Trusting You, page 23
A little shiver raced up my spine. It was one of those shivers that felt so delicious I just wanted to have another. The sound of his voice was like the roar of a lion, the growl of an alpha, because it churned up some primal instinct in me to obey his every command.
Man, this place was starting to make me crazy. I had to get out of here.
“Thanks for the drink,” I said, spinning the stool around and getting ready to hop off.
“So you’re the new dancer?”
I glanced over my shoulder, looking around the curtain of my chestnut-colored hair. “That depends.”
“On?”
“On whether or not I have the guts to show up tomorrow night.”
A slow smile curved his lips. “Well, I sure hope you do.”
“Why is that?”
“Because I definitely wouldn’t mind seeing more of you.”
The bottom dropped out of my stomach and I’m pretty sure my cheeks turned bright pink. He chuckled, the low sound carrying over every other sound in the place and echoing through the deepest parts of my mind.
Then he picked up the empty shot glass and turned around. “See ya around,” he said, tossing the words over his broad shoulder.
It wasn’t until I was outside fumbling around with my car keys that I wondered if he meant he actually wanted to see me again… or just the parts of me I dared to bare.
L. P. Dover, Trusting You
