Free Seeking Her by Cora Carmack Page A

leaning against the bar. This way I could talk to her, but stare out at the dance floor.
    I said, “I could do that . . .” But then I was certainly, completely fucked and wouldn’t have a chance at following her without being recognized.
    “But it’s so much more fun to keep picturing the look on your face as it was happening.”
    She made an almost identical look of horror before settling into a pout, and this time I didn’t manage to stifle my laugh before it escaped.
    She leaned into me, her chin tipped up toward me. Her warm arm brushed mine, and I thought, who was I kidding? I was already fucked. I might as well pack my bags now.
    She said, “I can think of a few things that would be more fun.”
    I looked over at her, even though I was supposed to be looking at the dance floor. I berated myself to look away even as my gaze trailed up her legs. It wasn’t like I hadn’t seen her before, in much less clothing even. But something about the fact that she was right in front of me, within touching distance, and that she knew I was looking made it even harder to look away.
    When I got to her chest, a vision of that emerald green bra from the botanical gardens in Kiev popped into my head. I yanked my gaze away, my thoughts squealing like a train dangerously close to derailing.
    A thought was forming in the back of my mind. An incredibly dangerous thought.
    What if I didn’t have to follow Kelsey?
    What if I traveled with her?
    I heard Kelsey huff beside me. “Well, this has been interesting . I better get back—”
    No. She couldn’t leave.
    “To the dementor out on the dance floor? Really?” I might have protested a bit too quickly there, and she must have known it.
    She took a few steps, her hips swinging and smiled. “You got a better offer?”
    Did I?
    One part of me screamed, “Hell, yes,” while the other was busy urging me to pull away. I leaned toward her, but my fists stayed clenched on the bar top behind me, locking me in place.
    Starting something with her would end badly no matter how I planned to proceed. I couldn’t follow her anymore for fear of being recognized. And I couldn’t travel with her because not a single guy she’d met so far had made it to day two with her.
    So, no. I had nothing I could (or should) offer to her.
    I slumped back against the bar, silent.
    She followed my retreat, stepping up toward me and laying a hand on my chest. My muscles flexed involuntarily, and I had a very hard time remembering the argument I’d laid out only seconds ago in my head.
    What if I could manage a second day with her? And a third? Maybe even more?
    While I was struggling to maintain my control, she pulled the cup of water between us, wrapping her full lips around the straw. She took a long drink, and my blood migrated south.
    I cleared my throat, not to say anything but because I needed something to do to keep from dragging her lips to mine.
    She said, “Let me know if you change your mind.”
    I was changing my mind every 2.3 seconds.
    And while I struggled with my thoughts, she sashayed back to the dance floor, back to the Hungarian guys I could have stolen her away from.

 
    9
    I WATCHED K ELSEY dance with another local guy from the group she’d come with, and she was a force to be reckoned with. I didn’t know how anybody said no to her. She closed her eyes as she danced, and she was magnetic as always—drawing more than just my stare.
    I turned, tearing my eyes away, and realized where I’d been left. Alone. The bartender came up, mixing a drink, but looking at me in question.
    I opened my mouth.
    I thought about ordering a beer. Would a beer really be so harmless? As long as I stayed away from the strong stuff . . .
    No.
    Goddamn it. No.
    I shook my head at the bartender. “I’m good. Thanks.”
    And then I shot out of there, needing to put as much distance as possible between me and the bar.
    I chose a spot in the first room, where I entered the building. It was a little more