Free Whiskey Kisses by Addison Moore Page B

entire body seizes.
    “Just me and you?” I touch my hand to my chest to further confirm my stupidity.
    “Well, we can ask your mom to join us, but it might get crowded.” He tilts his head, and his lips curl in a seductive manner that make my insides disintegrate. “Yes, me and you.” His lids hood low. “I won’t bite. I promise.”
    “Not even if I ask real nice?” I press my lips in tight. I don’t think I’ve ever felt so playful—so safe with anyone before.
    His brows knit. “Only if you say please. How about it? You in, Princess?”
    “Laney’s the princess around here.” I blow out a breath just looking at his expectant hand.
    “I think ‘kitten’ fits you better anyway.” We head over to the dance floor, and he weaves us deep into the crowd. His gaze never leaves mine, and I close my eyes a moment.
    Holt slowly interlaces our fingers with his warm flesh rubbing over mine. Here it is, the contact I’ve craved for so long. A part of me was afraid it wouldn’t feel right, that I would want to repel, but my insides are singing a song of their own, a sweet aching melody that drips right down to my thighs. I don’t need a man around the house to open jars. It’s moments like this I need him for. My mother flutters through my mind, and I’m quick to chase her away.
    Holt glides his arm around my waist, and I let out a sigh that was ten years in the making.
    “First slow dance?” He cocks his head just enough to make my bones melt.
    I give a slight nod. Each time Holt asks a question, I feel as if I’m giving him another part of the puzzle. Too bad I’m missing a few pieces—the ones that fit over my heart. My father took those with him.
    He leans in, and I groan as the warmth of his chest heats over mine.
    Who knew Holt Edwards had the power to reduce me to cinder. I’ve danced plenty in my life—dancing is my life. But I’ve never done it with anybody else—at least not in this close proximity—with someone like Holt. Not once did I imagine it would feel like this—like a dream exploding into life, and here it is. I glance down at our legs touching in all the right places.
    “Baby steps, kitten,” he whispers with his hot breath raking over my neck.
    I arch my head back and take in my fill, drink it down, savor it for later. This is it. My life has hit its zenith with Holt Edwards at the helm of this newfound revolution taking place inside me.
    “Baby steps,” I whisper.
    I run my hand over his back, lower still until my arm wraps fully around his waist. My body loosens as if I had just untangled a knot I’ve been working on for a decade.
    His cologne holds the scent of sandalwood and spices from the orient—something richer than the one he wore the first night.
    “So you still up for giving this beginner a few pointers?” I offer his back a light scratch.
    “You bet.” Holt smolders into me as if he’s ready to give me a whole lot more than I bargained for. “You did great at dinner. And you’re killing the dance floor.”
    “So what’s next?” I wet my lips without meaning to.
    A tall, dark-haired guy, the one that Roxy introduced as her boyfriend the other day, pops up with his phone pointed at us. “Anything you’d like to say to the happy couples?”
    “Not now, Cole.” Holt spins us around, but his friend is Johnny on the spot with the camera pointed right at us again.
    “Congratulations!” I sing into the small rectangle. “I wish you many happy years. You deserve it—all of you.”
    “Ditto,” Holt snarls at his buddy and tells him to take off by way of hitching his head.
    “What’s the matter, Holty boy? You a little tongue tied?” Cole breaks out in a wicked grin. It’s obvious he’s enjoying the hell out of this. “I tell you what. I’m about to turn on the kiss cam for the night. Why don’t you two kick us off?”
    “No thanks.” Holt pushes the camera away, but it’s becoming quickly obvious Cole is committed to the cause. “Listen up,