Page 101 of New Nebraska Heat

Ceci made a face. “Eww. I know, right? That guy’s a total creep, and his wife gives Osric too many eyelash flutters. Ugh. Did you see the size of her diamond necklace, while her husband goes round begging for donations? Damn grifters.” She leaned in, her eyes widening. “Osric was almost killed by a lion pride of Temple followers. They attacked him when he was drunk. He hates them with a passion. I swear, if Blunton wasn’t a senior citizen, Osric would have punched him out.”

I snorted. “I bet my jaguar cop would pay to see that—he thinks the Temple could be wrapped up in dealing drugs to kids. Apparently, he’s winning big at the tables right now. Would Osric go for it?”

She laughed, but before she spoke, I corrected myself. “What am I saying? He’s a prince. He doesn’t need the money.”

“No,” she acquiesced with a smile.

I whispered, “Must be so nice being with a real Fae prince. Didn’t you luck out.”

She giggled. We were like teens. It was fun.

“I lucked out? What about Bryce freakin’ Harding? Anyway, Osric’s main passion, apart from me, and hating the Temple, is New Nebraskan politics. So, we’ll see how that goes. I’m not so enthusiastic about it. He talks about congress, the senate, the governorship like he’s aiming for a seat.”

We kept chatting, the guys joining in as I continued fulfilling my promise to have fun. I switched between water and champagne, but even two glasses had me tipsy.

When Ceci suggested we all go back inside for dancing, I was worried my legs, weighed down by steak and wobbly from bubbly, wouldn’t want to co-operate. Thankfully though, I felt fine after a few minutes walking, with Seb and Hunter linked on either side of me.

Ugh, I saw Monique, ultra glamorous in gold, fluttering at the far end of the casino area. I hoped she’d stay there. Where were teams of bodyguards to hide behind when you really needed them? Thankfully she seemed to be winning at roulette and was oblivious to my presence.

We got to the dance floor and were happy to see it had a good portion left to dance on without bumping into people. A live singer had appeared on the musicians’ stage and was oozing out honeyed songs perfect for slow dances.

“So, who wants first dance?” I asked over the music, looking at Seb and Hunter.

Hunter rubbed Seb’s shoulder and said with a dry smile, “I tell you what, I’ll fight you for it.”

Seb laughed and shook his head. “No thanks, I prefer all my limbs attached to my body. You should watch out though, I’m catching up with you.” He held his arm up, flexing.

Hunter had a squeeze, his eyebrows raised. “Shit, kid, you’re hiding steel under there. When did that happen?” He lookedbetween us, like he suspected I was the reason, but there was no jealousy on his face. “Impressive.”

“Yeah right,” Seb scoffed. “You’ll always be the king of the streetfighters. Everyone knows it.”

“Would you two like to dance with each other?” I asked. “Get a room, perhaps?”

Hunter pulled me into a tight embrace, his face inches from mine as I saw his eyes turn a burning yellow. “Keep up the sass and I might have to get a room with you.”

“You’d like that?” I asked, breath quickening.

“I’d love it,” he rumbled, our mouths millimeters apart.

“Well, if you keep speaking with that jaguar growl”—my voice trembled—“I might just have to let you get that room.”

“Fuck,” he rasped.

I wound my arms around his neck, heartbeat pulsing between my legs. Maybe we really could have some fun tonight. Maybe I was ready, after all those nights wrapped safe in his arms. But… not right this second.

“I still want to dance,” I said, letting my bottom lip brush his.

He whisked me off the dance floor’s edge and into the thick of it so quickly that I squealed in surprise.

My feet followed his firm lead, and his arms kept me swaying with the tempo he set.

I rested my head on his chest, hearing the primal hammer of his jaguar heart, letting him spin, dip, and caress me through three songs.

When we were both acting a little dizzy, Hunter slowed and nodded toward Seb. “Kid’s like a racehorse waiting for the off. I think it’s his turn now.”

“Thank you for my first dance,” I murmured, cupping his cheek. I hadn’t danced with a partner since an awkward Spring Fling when I was thirteen.

He dipped his mouth to mine in a warm kiss that ended toosoon, moving to my ear to whisper, “I hope you know I treasure every first you choose to give me.”