- Dance With Him
No more hook-ups. No more fun romps in bed. That’s the vow Harper Spiers takes after he realizes he wants something more than just a one-night fling. Harper isn’t quite prepared for the sexy cowboy who sweeps him off a nightclub barstool and onto the dance floor to be that connection.
All Cody Reid meant to do when he first approached Harper was talk, but he found himself totally smitten with the adorably awkward man and couldn’t resist pulling him onto the dance floor. After he makes a blunder and Harper runs off, Cody believes he’ll never see the man who intrigues him again. Until a happenstance meeting on a city street changes everything.
Harper is reluctant the cowboy would truly want someone like him. But Cody thinks Harper could be the man he’s longed for all his life. Now all he has to do is convince Harper that he’s meant to Dance With Him.
Publisher: Independently Published
Heat Level: 4
Romantic Content: 5
Ending: Click here to reveal
Character Identities: Gay
Protagonist 1 Age: 26-35
Protagonist 2 Age: 26-35
Word Count: 66854
Languages Available: English
Series Type: Same Universe / Various Characters
An Adam Lambert song began, and I hummed along. Caught up in the tune, I failed to notice a presence slide in next to me. Which meant I squeaked the second a voice spoke right in my ear. Yes, a squeak came out of my mouth, high-pitched and everything.
“One of my favorite songs too.” The deep tone sent a shiver down my spine. I turned my head to see Loner Guy taking residence on Jordan’s vacated barstool. Why the fuck is he sitting right there when half the barstools are empty?!
My lips parted to say something, but the words caught in my throat at the sexy smile lighting up his face. And holy sweet baby Jesus, what a face. Rugged and warm and friendly and well, complete, utter drool-inducing sexiness. He screamed cowboy. Real cowboy, not show-off cowboy.READ MORE
Anyway, tan skin, square jaw with the faintest hint of a five o’clock shadow, straight nose, and one of those perfectly shaped cupid’s bow mouths. The kind meant for kissing. And with that scruff… rubbing against my scruff… raspy and rough…
Stop it. No kissing. No hook-ups. How many times you gonna have to remind yourself? Do you need a freaking cock cage with evil spikey things to keep yourself under control?
Irish green eyes stared back at me while I mentally chastised myself, sparkling with mirth and a friendliness I rarely saw in clubs from strangers. They lacked that Club Predator vibe from a guy on the prowl. Then again, this gorgeous man probably had zippo desire for a hook-up with me—a nerdy guy with glasses who looked beyond out of place in a club full of sexy men.
I took a deep breath and finally sputtered, “Um, yeah, it’s uh, a good, uh, song.”
I inwardly slapped myself upside the head. Can you not sound like a moron at least once?
“Your friend,” he said, his eyes twinkling, “seems to have commandeered one of my friends. I figured I should return the favor.”
Oh, fuck. Was I wrong? Was he hitting on me? I gulped, hoping to swallow the baseball sized knot lodged in my throat. Mercifully, the bartender broke the moment by putting my drink down in front of me. I took a large sip—and by sip, I mean, I swigged down over half the glass—and felt the liquid burn down my esophagus and warm my chest. “Yeah, uh, he has a thing for cowboys.”
Less stutter. Good. I might survive this conversation in one piece.
A dark brow arched upward. “Does he now? Well, my friend has a thing for sassy men with pink lipstick. Match made in heaven. What about you? Have a thing for cowboys too?”
He might have noticed the hitch in my breath as his knee brushed against my thigh, even though I attempted to cover it up because he pressed it a little more firmly. I could feel the heat exploding across my face as if someone lit a match and held it against my skin.
“I, uh, um…” Back to stuttering. How am I supposed to respond to that anyway?“They’re okay,” I shrugged as nonchalantly as possible.
Although, after I said it, his eyes dimmed. And wasn’t that sucky? And not the good sucky, more like when your phone charging cord gets caught in the hose of a Hoover and you can’t yank it back out kind of sucky.
“I mean,” How to fix this?“Cowboys are great. They’re um, fun and all that muscle and they smell good most of the time unless they’ve been rolling in cow patties, then not so much and um…” Jesus Christ this is getting worse the more words plop out of my flappy mouth.“Please shut me up.”
He burst out laughing—so deep and rumbly, I almost came in my pants from it—and held his hand out. “I’m Cody.”
I stared at his hand confused for a split second. Did people even shake hands in nightclubs? Wasn’t there a code or something, no hand shaking, just dick shaking? Then again, it felt rude not to, so I did it. Please don’t turn me over to the Nightclub Rule Violation Committee. Sliding my hand into his tentatively, I plastered a smile on my face. “Harper. Nice to meet you.”
“Pleasure’s all mine, Harper. So,” he drawled in a mind-numbing, sex-infused voice. “How about a dance?”
Dance? Fuck. I needed more liquid courage, I drank the rest of my drink quickly. Which, I choked on. Because, of course, I did. Why not add to the spectacle of incompetency I was making of myself?
Doubling over as I coughed, I felt a large hand against my back, rubbing in slow circles as I tried to catch my breath. The heat of his hand burned through the thin material of my shirt and I think the man branded me right there. Probably with a great big ‘moron’ symbol of some kind.
“Sorry,” Cody murmured as he leaned closer. “I take that as a no?”
“Um, no. I mean yes. I mean… I don’t dance.”
“Really? Everyone dances.”
“Nope. Believe me, the Club World is safer if I stay as far away from that dance floor as possible.”COLLAPSE