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“You think not?” One of his dark blond brows rose.
Oh shit. My tummy flipped.
He saw me as a challenge, but I wasn’t. It wouldn’t take much effort for him to have me.
Knowing that, I dredged up his age and threw it at him. “You’re old enough to be my father.”
He was, but there were two more important reasons—his connection to Ally, and him banging my boss. He was and would always remain my secret fantasy.
Champion gave me a curt nod. “Right. Message received.”
He was angry. Darkness like a pileup of football players scrambling for a fumble slammed down over his expression. Removing his arm from my legs, he stood. With the setting sun behind him, his shadow fell over me. It was the tropics and the air was warm, but I was shockingly cold without his heat.
Unbalanced, I got to my feet slower than he did. My gaze fell to my black dance sneakers. I’d slipped them on sans socks after jumping down from the tree. Skittering back a few steps, I avoided his gaze and touching him, but I could feel the heavy weight of his stare.
“How old are you?” he asked, searching my eyes when I lifted my head. He was six feet five hunk-a-luscious inches tall. I had to crane my neck to look at him.
“I’m twenty-one,” I said, fighting the urge to squirm beneath his probing perusal.
“Okay.” He exhaled, obviously relieved. He was thirty-nine. There was a wide age difference between us, for sure, but it wasn’t an illegal one. His blue eyes suddenly twinkled with humor. “I’m not that old. I caught you, didn’t I?”
“Your legs are longer than mine,” I said, grumbling the excuse. “And I’m not a professional athlete.”
“Maybe not, but you’re in shape like one.”
He ran his gaze over me. I shivered, but not from being cold anymore.
“I don’t know what to say to that.” I struck a defiant pose with my hands on my hips and my nose in the air.
I didn’t want to talk. I wanted to jump him and explore that fiery tension crackling between us. I might be young and inexperienced in comparison to him. He might have my boss on standby to take care of his physical needs, and his choice of other women in reserve for variety. But right here and now, it was me he was focused on, me he desired.
“Say whatever the hell you want to. But you gotta give me your name.” He raked a hand through his hair, and I got lost again watching the sun shimmer in it. “I’ve never in my life been more attracted to a woman.”
My lips parted. “What?” I whispered. It was one thing for me to feel the sexual tension between us, and another for him to acknowledge it. “I don’t believe I heard you correctly.”
“You heard me.” He dipped his chin, seeming reluctant to confirm it.
Not surprising, I guess, given the difference in our ages that some would deem as inappropriate. But he didn’t make an excuse, nor did he retract his words. When his gaze fell to my mouth, my lips tingled. His eyes were darker when he raised his head.
“Go out with me,” he demanded.
“Electra,” I blurted.
It wasn’t wise to tell him my name, but meeting him had been completely unexpected. I wasn’t prepared. The walls I had erected around myself that kept me on one side and everyone else on the other wobbled around him.
“My name is Electra.” I held my breath, expecting to see a spark of recognition.
“And your last name?” he asked.
No recognition, which was surprising. We didn’t travel in the same circles, obviously, but there was some overlap.
Pressing my lips together, I shook my head. If he didn’t know I headlined at the club that Mercedes owned and his best friend frequented, I wasn’t going to tell him.
“Pretty name for a stunning woman,” he said, filling in for my silence.
Blood rushed to my cheeks as fire melted other areas. I was incredibly responsive to him, and his compliment pleased me.
“Don’t say no. You like dancing.” He tapped his chin. “So, go dancing with me.”
