Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 91595 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91595 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
I haven’t seen her smile like that in years.
I move through the crowd, getting slaps on the back, shaking hands with folks as I make my way to the bar. Even with people speaking and trying to offer me a drink, I keep my eyes on Kenni. She’s just so damn beautiful. Time has done nothing but make her even more striking than she was before, and boy am I jealous of anyone who has gotten her full time.
She must feel me looking at her because as she comes out of a spin, she stops, her hooded eyes locking with mine. My heart stutters when her lips curve up into that huge grin, and she yells out, “Well, hot damn! Dean August Moore!”
I can’t even register that she just said my full name because she takes off at full speed, projecting herself off the bar and slamming into me like a flying monkey. Air is knocked out of me as I stumble back, wrapping my arms around her to catch her. Her laughter is intoxicating as she wraps her arms and legs around me like a koala. She squeezes me tight, and I relish the feel of her body against mine. I haven’t touched her like this since we were kids.
But Kenni is no kid anymore.
She’s lush in all the right places—her ass juicy, her thighs soft, and her breasts full against my chest. My cock comes alive at the feel of her, and when she pulls back, her laughter loud and wild, I can’t help but gaze up at her like she is a goddess sent down just for me.
“Good catch,” she giggles, her eyes locking with mine. I’m holding her by the backs of her thighs, my fingers digging into her flesh as she grins down at me. I can smell the Fireball on her breath, and I want nothing more than to taste it on her bee-stung lips. Her eyes are half lidded in a way that has heat gathering in my spine. She moves her eyes lazily along my face before she reaches out to twirl my stache with the tip of her finger. “Look at you with your slutty little stache. I can’t even.”
Yup, I think I came.
A chuckle bubbles out of me as I shake my head. “You are trouble.”
She shrugs. “You’ve known that.”
I have, but I don’t get to say that. She smacks my chest, and I put her down as “Head Over Boots” by Jon Pardi plays over the speakers. She lets out another whoop before looking me up and down. Heat spreads through my body under her gaze as she asks, “Can you dance in those pants?”
I scoff, about to tell her I’m not here to dance, but she has my hand, pulling me to the floor. I hear people yell my name, cheer me on, but I’m locked in the blue of her eyes as she turns and flashes me a sweet little smirk. She takes my hand fully in hers, and I grab her waist automatically.
Then we’re moving.
I love to dance. It was ingrained in me when I was younger and the girls would drag me to the community center for line dancing classes. I was always Kenni’s partner since Missy would dance with whoever she was dating, and Sadie was in a long-term relationship with Mick Little all through high school. Tuesday night was my favorite because I got to dance with Kenni. Of course, line dancing isn’t what it was back then, but I still love doing it. I’m no stranger to coming to the Thirsty Pine once a month to do just that. I enjoy the feel of my boots on the floor, the freedom of moving, and the bass of the music. I have danced with girls I’ve taken home, but no one has ever felt as good as Kenni does in my arms.
We move together like we weren’t meant to do anything else. The lights above shine in her eyes, her grin unstoppable and her hips moving in a way that should be illegal. I can tell she’s blitzed by the way her eyes are drooping and she’s swaying, but I’m not ready to let her go. I knead my fingers into her hip when she steps a bit closer, her sweet scent mixed with Fireball and making me forget that I’m on call and supposed to be saving the good people of Thistlebrook from this crazy trio.
She flutters those dark lashes at me and then slurs, “Hi.”
I grin, shaking my head. “Hey there, darlin’.”
Her cheeks fill with color as she slides her hand up my shoulder to the back of my neck. Chills run down my spine before she flicks the brim of my hat. “Still wearing this old thing?”
“Of course I am. It’s my favorite.”