by Janice Lynn
“Should I be concerned about how quiet you are?” he asked.
“Nope. I’m just enjoying the dance.”
“Any regrets?”
His question caught her off guard and she pulled back enough to where she could see his face. “About?”
“Coming to the party with me.”
“Not yet.”
He chuckled. “You expecting that to change?”
“Depends on your behavior between now and the time we leave.”
“Then I guess I better be on my best, eh?”
“Something like that.”
Not that she could imagine Lance not being on his best behavior at all times. He was always smiling, doing something to help others. Never had she met a man who volunteered more. It was as if his life’s mission was to do as much good as he possibly could in the world. Or at least within their small community.
The music changed to an upbeat number and they danced to a few more songs. The emcee for the evening stopped the music and made several announcements, gave away a few raffle items.
“Now, folks.” The emcee garnered their attention. “I’d like to call Dr. Lance Spencer to the stage.”
Lance glanced at her. “Do you know anything about this?”
McKenzie shook her head. She didn’t have a clue.
Pulling McKenzie along with him, he headed up toward the makeshift stage. She managed to free her hand just before he stepped up onto the stage. No way was he taking her up there with him. Who knew what was about to happen? Maybe he had won a raffle or special door prize or something.
“Dr. Spencer,” the emcee continued, “I’m told you make a mean emcee.”
“I wouldn’t say ‘mean,’” Lance corrected, laughing.
“Well, a little birdie tells me you’ve been known to rock a karaoke machine and requested you sing to kick off our karaoke for the evening.”
Lance glanced at McKenzie, but she shook her head. That little birdie wasn’t her.
Always in the spirit of things, Lance shrugged, and told the emcee the name of a song. As the music started, microphone in hand, he stepped off the stage and took McKenzie’s hand again.
“I need a singing partner.”
Her heart in her nonsinging throat, McKenzie shook her head. He wasn’t doing this. She didn’t want to make a spectacle of them by pulling her hand free of his, but her feet were about to take off at any moment, which meant he was either coming with her, hands clasped and all, or she’d be doing exactly that.
“Come on,” he encouraged. “Don’t be shy. Sing with me, McKenzie. It’ll be fun.”
By this time, the crowd was also really into the spirit of things and urging her onto the stage. She heard a female doctor whose office was right next to hers call out for her to go for it.
McKenzie’s heart sank. She wasn’t going to be able to run away. Not this time. She was surrounded by her coworkers. Her hand was held by Lance.
She was going to have to go onstage and sing. With Lance. Nothing like a little contrast to keep things interesting.
A singer she was not.
She closed her eyes.
What had been a great night had just gone sour. Very, very sour.
She blamed Lance.
* * *
Lance realized he’d made a mistake the moment he’d put McKenzie on the spot. Unfortunately, his request wasn’t something she could easily refuse with their coworkers now cheering for her to join him. She could either sing or be seen as a total party pooper—which she wasn’t and he knew she’d resent being labeled as one.
McKenzie’s eyes flashed with fear and he wasn’t sure what all else.
He’d messed up big time.
Faking a smile, she stepped up onto the stage with him. He still held her hand. Her palm was sweaty and her fingers threatened to slip free. He gave her a reassuring squeeze. She didn’t even look at him.
Lance sang and McKenzie came through from time to time, filling the backup role rather than taking a lead with him, as he’d initially hoped. Mostly, she mumbled, except during the chorus. With almost everyone in the crowd singing along, too, maybe no one noticed.
McKenzie noticed, though. The moment the song was over, she gave him the evil eye. “For the record, I don’t sing and if you ever do that to me again, it’ll be the last time.”
“That’s funny,” he teased, planning to keep their conversation light, to beg her forgiveness if he needed to. “I just heard you do exactly that.”
“Only a tone-deaf lunatic would call what I just did singing.”
“I thought you sounded good.”
“You don’t count.”
“Ouch.” He put his hand over his heart as if she’d delivered a fatal blow. “My references say I count.”
She flashed an annoyed look his way. “You’re really going to have to get over those references.”
“Or use them as a shield against the walloping you seem determined to deliver to me.”
“Not everyone enjoys being the center of attention.”
“Tell me the truth. You didn’t have fun onstage just then? Not even a little?” he coaxed.
McKenzie stared at him as if he was crazy. He was crazy.
“I detested being onstage in front of my coworkers.” She frowned as they moved onto the dance floor. Her body remained rigid, rather than relaxing against his like it had during their earlier dances. “For the record, I really don’t like people staring at me. Put it down to bad childhood memories of when my parents thrust me into situations where I got a lot of unwanted attention.”
When he’d gone after her to sing with him, he’d never considered that she might not enjoy being onstage. He’d just selfishly wanted her with him.
“I’m sorry, McKenzie. If I’d known how you felt, I wouldn’t have put you in the spotlight that way. I definitely would never intentionally upset you. It was all in fun, to kick off the night’s karaoke. That’s all.”
“I know you didn’t intentionally pull me up there to upset me,” she admitted. “I just prefer you not to put me in situations where all eyes are on me. I have enough bad childhood flashbacks as it is.”
“What kind of childhood flashbacks?”
“Just situations where my parents would yell and scream at each other regardless of where we were and no matter who was around. Way too often all eyes would be on me while they had a knock-down, drag-out. When people stare at me, it gives me that same feeling of humiliation and mortification.”
“I’m sorry your parents did that to you and that I made those negative feelings come to surface. But, for the record, maybe you’re finally getting past those old hang-ups because you were smiling.” She had been smiling. Mumbling and smiling.
“I was faking it.”
“Ouch.” His hand went to his chest and he pretended to receive another mortal blow. “Not good when a man’s woman has to fake it.”
“Exactly. So you should be careful what situations you put me into where I might have to fake other things,” she warned with a half smile. “I don’t sing. I barely dance. Take note of it.”
He pulled her to him, his hand low on her back, holding her close. “You dance quite nicely when you aren’t in rigor mortis. However, I’ll make a note. No more singing and barely dancing. Got it.”
“Good.”
“Also, for the record, when I put you in a certain situation, there will be no need for faking it.”
Her chin tilted up and she arched a brow in challenge. “How can you be so sure?”
“Because I’ll use every ounce of skill, every ounce of sheer will, every ounce of energy I have to make sure I blow your mind,” he whispered close for her ears only. “My pleasure will be seeing your pleasure. Feeling your pleasure.”
“That sounds...fun. Maybe you should have tried your hand at that instead of pulling me onstage with you.”
He swallowed. Was she saying...?
“I want you, McKenzie. I haven’t pushed because I know you still have a lot of mixed emotions about being with me, but when you’re ready I want to make love to you. I’ve made no pretense about that.”
“Sex. You want to have sex with me,” she corrected, resting her forehead against his chin. “I’ll let you know when I’m ready.”
Lance’s heart beat like a drum against his rib cage. “I’ll be waiting.”
“Don’t hold your breath.”
“I’d rather hold yours.”
That had her looking up.
“Kiss me, McKenzie.”
“Here? Now? On the dance floor? Around our coworkers? Are you crazy?”
He glanced around the dim room. The dance floor was crowded with couples, some of them stealing kisses. There were some single women who were dancing in a circle off to one side of the dance floor. One of the admin girls currently had the microphone and was belting out a tune. No one was paying them any attention.
McKenzie’s gaze followed his, no doubt drawing the same conclusions, but she shook her head anyway. “No. I’m not one of those girls who is into public displays of affection.”
“You kissed me in front of Bev’s Beauty Boutique.”
“That was different.”
“How was that different? Other than it being in broad daylight and in the middle of the square with half the town in the near vicinity?”
“I can’t explain how that was different, but it was.” Her lower lip disappeared between her teeth. “Don’t push me on this, please.”
He sighed. “It would probably have been a bad idea for you to kiss me here, anyway.”
“Why is that?”
Did she really not know how much she affected him? How much he was having to fight sweeping her up into his arms and carrying her out of the ballroom and straight to the first private place he could find where he could run his fingers beneath her sparkly green dress?
“I think I’ve already mentioned how much I want you and the effect you have on me.”
“But... Oh.” Her eyes widened as she moved against him.
“Yeah. Oh.”
To his surprise, her body relaxed and he’d swear the noise that came out of her mouth was a giggle. Not that McKenzie seemed the giggling type, but that’s what the sound had most resembled.
Regardless, her arms relaxed around his neck and just to prove how ornery she was and to his total surprise her lips met his in a soft kiss that only lasted a few seconds but took his breath and made his knees weak.
“There,” she taunted. “I kissed you in public.”
“Not sure what made you change your mind, but thank you.” He studied her expression and he’d swear there was a mischievous glint in her eyes. “I think. Because if I didn’t know better I’d think you were trying to set me up for embarrassment.”
There was the sound again. Definitely a giggle. “Would I do that after our conversation, with you pointing out the obvious differences in the way our bodies react?”
A grin tugged at his lips. “Yeah, you would.”
Her eyes sparkled. “Did it work?”
He pulled her close and let her feel for herself that his body was indeed reacting to her, making him uncomfortable in the process. Then again, he’d left her front porch this way every night the past week.
She tilted her face toward him. “I think it did.”
“You think?” He shook his head, then stroked his finger across her cheek.
He held her close until the slow dance ended then they moved to a couple of fast songs. Despite what she’d said, McKenzie could dance. She could definitely sing too if she wouldn’t let her own self-doubt get in the way.
Laughing, McKenzie fell into his arms. “Hey, Lance?”
“Hmm?” he asked, kissing the top of her head just because he could, because it felt right and wonderful.
“I’m ready.”
“Already?” He’d figured they’d be one of the last to leave, not one of the first. Still, if she was done partying, he’d take her home. Then he met her gaze and what she meant glittered brightly in her emerald eyes. “Really?”
She nodded. “Let’s get our coats, please.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Such good manners,” she praised.
Lance grinned. “Just wait until I show you what else I’m good at.”
CHAPTER NINE
YES, IT HAD been a while since she’d had sex, but McKenzie wasn’t a virgin. She enjoyed sex, was athletic enough to have good stamina and a good healthy drive so she felt she was decent in the sack. So why was she suddenly so nervous?
Because she’d essentially agreed to have sex with Lance.
With Lance!
Wasn’t that what the dress, the hair and makeup, the sexy undies had all been about? Leading up to his taking them off her, kissing her body, running his fingers though her hair, making her sweat from the intensity of their coming together?
Sex with Lance.
Lance, who did everything perfectly.
He looked perfect.
Danced perfectly.
Doctored perfectly.
Made love perfectly?
That was the question.
She gulped and had to fight to keep her eyes on the road and off the man driving his car toward her house. He hadn’t looked at her and seemed to have no desire to make small talk, which she appreciated. He was as lost in his thoughts as she was.
What was he thinking?
About sex? With her?
Sometimes she wondered why he even bothered. He’d been asking her out for weeks before she’d agreed to go to the Christmas show at the community center. Why hadn’t he just moved on to someone else who was more agreeable?
Ha. She was agreeable tonight. She was practically throwing herself at him.
When he’d realized what she’d meant, he’d taken her hand and, with a determined gleam in his eyes, had made a beeline for their coats, not stopping to chat with any of their coworkers and friends as they’d left.
She took a deep breath.
Lance asked, “Second thoughts?”
She glanced toward him. “No, but I feel like a teenager sneaking off from a high school dance to mess around.”
He wasn’t looking at her, but she’d swear Lance’s face paled, that his grip on the steering wheel tightened to the point his skin stretched white over his knuckles.
When he didn’t comment, she asked, “You?”
“No regrets, but we don’t have to do this if you’re not sure.”
“I’m sure.” He still looked way tenser than she felt a man on his way to getting what he’d been supposedly wanting for weeks should look. Which made her uneasy. Maybe they were talking too much and not having enough action.
Maybe she was boring him with all her conversation.
They were still another ten minutes from her house. What were they supposed to do during the drive?
Then again, she wasn’t the one driving so the possibilities were only limited by her imagination.
She’d always had a good imagination. A vivid imagination.
She wiggled in the seat, enjoying the car’s seat warmers. “Nice seaters you’ve got here.”
His gaze flicked her way. “Seaters?”
“Seat heaters. Yours are awesome.” Seat belt still in place, she twisted as best she could toward him and wiggled her hips. “I’m feeling all toasty warm.”
He kept his eyes on the road, but his throat worked and his fingers flexed along the steering wheel. “Things getting hot down there?”
As fun as she could imagine it.
With Lance her imagination was working overtime.
Odd because even though the thought of sex with him made her nervous, she felt no hesitation in unbuttoning her coat and slipping her arms free, and running her palms down her waist, hips, thighs, letting her fingers tease her skirt hem.
“Maybe. Give me your hand and I’ll let you check for yourself.”
“McKenzie.” Her name came out as half plea, half groan. “I need to concentrate on the road. I don’t want to wreck.”
“You won’t. I only need one hand. You keep your eyes on the road and your other hand on the steering wheel. No worries. I’ll take good care of you.”
“You think I can touch your body and not look?” His voice sounded strained.
She liked it that his voice sounded strained, that what she was doing was having a profound effect on him. “Can’t you?”
“I’m not sure.” He sounded as if he really wasn’t.
Which made McKenzie giddy inside. He wanted her. Really wanted her. She knew this, but seeing the reality of his desire was something more, was the cherry on top.
“Let’s find out.” She reached for him and he let her pull his right hand to her thigh. “See, I have faith in your ability to let your fingers have some fun. You’ve got this.”
“Fun? Is that what you call between your legs?”
Excited from how much she could see he wanted her, she reached her free hand out and ran her fingers over his fly. “It had better be what I’m calling between your legs by morning.”
“McKenzie.” This time her name was a tortured croak.
She smiled, liking the hard fullness she brushed her fingertips over. That was going to be hers before the sun came up. Oh, yeah. He really was perfect.
“You’re testing my willpower,” he ground out through gritted teeth when her fingers lingered, exploring what she’d found and become fascinated by.