Hope Smolders by Jaci Burton Page A

she’d been to a movie that wasn’t animated or rated G? She couldn’t remember. He let her pick and she decided not to torture him by choosing the romance she’d been dying to see, instead selecting a comedy.
    It was a good choice. She laughed until her stomach hurt,clutching Will’s arm during some of the really funny scenes. He laughed, too. It was a great movie and they left the theater arm in arm, talking about some of their favorite parts.
    “Thanks for picking that movie,” he said as they climbed back into his car. “I’d been wanting to see it.”
    “So you secretly hoped that was the one I’d choose.”
    “Yeah. I was sending you psychic vibes.”
    “Apparently you’re good at it. I was going to choose the romance.”
    He made a grimace. “Really?”
    “Would you have gone if I did?”
    At the red light, he turned his head toward her. “Of course. Why wouldn’t I?”
    “Even though you would have hated it.”
    “I didn’t say I would have hated it, but it wouldn’t have been my first choice.”
    She laughed.
    “There’s a new club in Tulsa that plays country. Do you like country?”
    He was being so nice and entertaining. But she wanted to be alone with him. “How about we go back to my place. I can play some country.”
    He gave her a look. “Yeah? You know any moves?”
    She arched a brow. “I know a few.”
    “All right.”
    There was no way she wanted to waste any more time. She’d already wasted enough by being stupid and afraid. After they got to her place, she pulled out her keys and tried not to appear too anxious or in a hurry as they made their way to her front door. But her fingers fumbled with the lock. He put his hand over hers to steady her.
    “That’s not helping,” she said, staring at his hand.
    “What’s not?” he asked, his body nestling very nicely against her—and her backside.
    “You. Touching me.”
    He stayed right where he was. “So, you don’t want me touching you?”
    “Oh, I most definitely want you touching me.”
    “Then move your hand out of the way so I can get this damn door unlocked before we end up doing something indecent on your front porch.”
    Her lips curved at that thought, and at how scandalized her neighbors would be. She moved her hand and his deft fingers—oh, she really liked the things his fingers could do—had the key turned and the door pushed open in a few seconds, his body propelling her inside.
    She flipped on the light, then turned around and took him by the hands, leading him into her living room. She grabbed the remote and turned on the TV, scrolling through until she found the music channels, selecting country.
    His lips curved. “You gonna show me your moves?”
    She held out her arms. “You don’t really want me to line dance for you, do you?”
    He swept an arm around her and tugged her close. “Hell no. Not when I can hold you against me.”
    They swayed together to the rhythm of the music, though she had to admit she had no idea what song was playing, whether it was a driving beat or something sweet and slow. All she knew was the length of Will’s body pressed up against hers, and melting into the way he looked at her. And when he cupped the side of her neck and leaned in for a kiss, she was lost.
    And all those reasons for avoiding him seemed so stupid, because she had been missing out on his incredible mouth, the way he teased her by brushing his lips across hers. He deepened the kiss and held her head with his hand, his tongue sliding in to possess.
    She felt dizzy, mesmerized with each stroke of his tongue against hers. She reached for his shirt, lifting it up so she could palm the warm skin of his stomach and stroke his rock-hardabs. They quivered under her touch and she moaned against his lips.
    Her world turned topsy-turvy when he picked her up in his arms and carried her to the bedroom.
    This was all very romantic. She couldn’t remember ever being carried to the bed before. If she knew how to swoon,