Here's another snapshot of Callum and Starr in OVERTIME IN THE BOSS'S BED:
Just one quick spin around the floor. She couldn’t stand much more of the tension, nor the constant nagging inner voice that continually whispered ‘you’re in too deep’.
He stopped dead, his serious expression belied by the naughty gleam in his eyes.
“I lied to you.”
He bumped her gently with his hip, pointed to his shoes. “I don’t have two left feet.”
“Proof of the pudding and all that.”
“I was junior state ballroom dancing champion for two years straight in high school.”
“You can dance?”
His self-effacing smile merely added to his charm. “Don’t sound so surprised. Do I look like a clumsy oaf to you?”
What he looked like was the ultimate dreamboat, every girl’s fantasy come to life.
“Now you’re just fishing for compliments.”
Tossing her hair, she took his outstretched hand. Could he be any more perfect? Next he’d be saying he adored sushi and funky jewellery and long, decadent baths.
With a toe-curling smile, he said, “Is it working?”
“I have a feeling you know exactly how good you are.”
“Hey, a guy can never have too much reassurance.”
“Come on, Mr. Ballroom Champ, let’s see what you’re made of.”
Tugging on her hand until she was plastered against his chest, he said, “I’m up for the challenge if you are.”
“I’m up for anything.”
She pinned him with a sultry stare, leaving in little doubt to what she meant.
Brushing the barest of kisses against her lips, he murmured, “Then let’s make this dance quick and get out of here.”
Finally, finally, they were on the same page. Trouble was she knew what the next chapter held but what about the one after that? And would this page-turner have a happy ending?
As the sexy soulful music filtered through the club, Callum held her tight, his feet never faulting as he guided her through a perfect rumba.
She should’ve been in her element, oblivious to everything but the music taking her to the special place it always did but with Callum’s arms around her, his body deliciously close, all she could focus on was him. Only him.
As the music changed he released her, tipped up her chin.
“Care to rate my performance?”
“On a scale of one to ten?”
Trailing a fingertip down his cheek, she said, “Nine point five.”
“What did I lose the half point for?”
“Doing the dance upright.”
His eyes widened, darkened, at the innuendo and before she could lose the advantage along with her bravado, she grabbed his hand and made a break for the door.