Coming Up for Air. Karen FoleyЧитать онлайн книгу.
her face alight with anticipation.
“Watch and learn, oh young one,” Jenna replied, waggling her eyebrows.
“Wait!” Jenna watched as Laura dragged her pocket-book from the back of the bar stool and began rummaging through it. “Here, take this. I always keep extras, just in case.” She pushed something into Jenna’s hand.
Jenna stared down at the shiny foil packet and gave a huff of astonished laughter. “A condom? Seriously, Laura, I don’t think—”
“You’re right—one’s not enough. Take two.” She shoved another small packet into Jenna’s fingers.
Afraid that someone might see, Jenna stuffed the two condoms into the front pocket of her jeans. “You’re unbelievable. This is just a dance.”
Laura rolled her eyes. “Yeah, right. And the Beatles were just a band. Now, go!” She made a shooing motion with her hand.
Inside, Jenna’s heart was beating fast. She was going to ask him for a dance, and whatever happened after that would be up to him. If they only ended up dancing, it would be no big deal. As she approached the group of men, he straightened and leaned against his cue to watch her, masculine appreciation in his expression. By the time she reached him, the other men had stopped to watch, too.
Jenna halted mere inches from the man, deliberately invading his personal space in what she liked to think of as her first test of compatibility. At five feet, eleven inches tall, she was nearly eye-level with him. She’d learned from experience that some guys found her height a little unsettling, but he seemed unfazed. The warm gleam in his eyes and the hint of a dimple in one cheek made her feel as if her approaching him had been a foregone conclusion, but instead of annoyance, the thought drew a reluctant smile from her.
“Hey,” she said in greeting, letting her gaze slide over him.
Up close, the guy was absolutely mouthwatering, from his translucent green eyes, alight with interest, to his square jaw and sensuous smiling mouth. His brown hair was cropped close to his head, but Jenna could see bronze-and-gold glints in the short strands, and guessed he spent a lot of time in the sun, which made sense considering his line of work. He crossed his arms over his chest, and Jenna found herself transfixed by the way the material of his shirt strained over his thick biceps. She swallowed hard and silently acknowledged that she’d be more than a little disappointed if all she got from him was a dance. It seemed every cell in her body suddenly stood at attention, eagerly waiting to obey whatever command he might want to give.
“Hey.” He grinned, revealing dimples deep enough to drive a truck into.
Jenna pretended to lean negligently against the pool table, needing something solid to support her as her knees weakened beneath his smile. What had Laura said his first name was? Jenna couldn’t think clearly, and hoped her sudden confusion didn’t show on her face.
“So, Rawlins,” she said, deliberately using just his surname, “You wanna dance?” Her voice sounded both seductive and challenging.
“You bet.”
Without taking his eyes from her, he thrust his cue toward the nearest man and caught her hand firmly in his own as he pulled her toward the dance floor. He swung her into his arms, and finally Jenna knew firsthand what it was like to have all that strength and grace surround her. For as long as she could remember, she had struggled to come to terms with her height. Next to other women, she usually felt like a galumphing elephant, but she’d learned a long time ago not to let anyone see her insecurities. Right now, though, despite the fact he was only several inches taller than her, she felt fragile in his arms.
He splayed one hand at the small of her back, while his other held hers captive. There was nothing tentative or polite about the action; it was uncompromisingly confident, bordering on possessive. He maintained just enough space between the framework of their bodies so that they weren’t actually touching, but Jenna could feel the heat he generated.
“I haven’t seen you in here before.” His voice was warm and rich, with a distinctly Texan drawl.
Jenna suppressed a smile, enjoying the easy way he maneuvered her body to match his movements. “That’s because I’ve never been in here before.”
He drew back slightly and his eyes narrowed as they traveled leisurely over her features. “Have we met?”
Her breath caught as he suddenly spun her into a neat turn beneath his hand, before bringing her back into his arms. “Oh, wow.” She laughed. “Wasn’t expecting that.” She regained her focus, feeling a little off-balance, steadied only by the warm hand at her back. “Um, no. We haven’t actually met, unless you count the time I nearly ran you over in the grocery store last week.”
“Ah …” he said meaningfully, as if something had finally clicked. “I knew I’d seen you before.” He increased the pressure of his fingers, urging her closer. His warm breath fanned her ear. “So how do you know my name?”
Jenna leaned back enough to stare boldly into his eyes. “I asked.”
Their gazes held for a long moment, before his lips curved in a slow smile. He gave a soft laugh of either amusement or admiration and then he eased her body closer, sliding his palm up to rest between her shoulder blades, while he curled his other hand around her fingers and pressed them to his chest. The movement brought her up against his hard contours, and beneath the fingers of her free hand, his shoulder muscles bunched and relaxed.
Jenna’s heart beat faster than necessary; too fast for such a slow dance. She was acutely conscious of how well their bodies fit together, their hips perfectly aligned. If she turned her face even fractionally, her lips would brush against the smooth, tanned skin of his neck. She breathed deeply, inhaling a scent that was intensely clean and yet unmistakably masculine. His soap, or a subtle cologne, maybe. Or some crazy, secret pheromone designed purely to arouse the opposite sex. She wanted to rub herself all over him.
“So, do I get to ask your name?” His voice rumbled softly against her ear.
“Hmm.” She dragged her mind away from the indecent thoughts swirling through her head to concentrate on his words. “Jenna Larson.”
“Are you from around here?”
“No,” she replied, thinking of her home on Cape Cod, in Massachusetts. “Just passing through. And you?”
“Originally from Texas, currently assigned to Fort Bragg. But I guess you know that, too, huh?”
Jenna glanced at his face, but his expression gave nothing away. His good looks aside, she liked his easy smile and the warmth that lingered in his eyes when he studied her. “Actually, I didn’t know you were from Texas. But it wasn’t difficult to guess you’re in the military,” she admitted. “Just about every guy in here tonight is. All you have to do is look at the haircuts.”
The music came to an end, and Jenna reluctantly allowed Chase to lead her from the dance floor. His gaze flicked to his buddies, still congregated around the pool tables, but he didn’t make an immediate move to separate from Jenna.
“Well, thanks for the dance,” she said brightly. But when she would have stepped away, he caught her wrist. She turned back, expectant.
“Do you wanna get out of here? Find someplace a little less crowded?” His voice was low … compelling. His eyes searched hers, and Jenna felt her insides churn with anticipation.
“Maybe. What do you have in mind?”
He shrugged and his thumb rubbed the inside of her wrist. “A bottle of wine, an old army blanket and an outstanding view of the jets taking off and landing at Pope Field.” His mouth lifted in a lopsided grin. “I happen to know they’re doing night maneuvers, and I promise you, it really is spectacular to watch. We don’t even need to go on base. There’s a field beyond the perimeter that provides a great view.”
Jenna considered him closely. Was it possible he didn’t realize she was also in the military?