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The Do-Over (The Miles High Club #4)(37)

Author:T.L. Swan

Laughing and lapping up all the attention. Every now and then I see him say something to Bodie and Basil, and they listen intently. He’s coaching them how to pick up and what to say.

I’m standing near the dance floor, watching everyone. I hear a soft voice from behind me. “Grumpy.”

I smile into my drink. I kind of have to agree with him; he does make me grumpy. “Hello, Christopher.”

“Christo,” he corrects me.

“Is it?” I raise my eyebrow.

He twists his lips, amused. “It’s Christopher, but don’t tell anyone.”

“Do you think Christo sounds hotter?”

“Don’t you?”

“Definitely not.”

He chuckles and takes a swig of his beer. “Are you having fun?”

“I am.”

An awkward silence falls between us. He’s not all flirty and playful with me like he is with everyone else.

“How was taxicabbing today?”

“Hell on a stick.” He swigs his beer again.

“Didn’t you just get here? Why are you working already?”

“Had my credit card stolen and my bank account wiped on my first day.”

I screw up my face. “Ouch.”

“Hmm. Don’t talk about it.”

The DJ gets on his microphone. “Women, turn directly to your left,” he announces.

To the sound of giggles, all the girls turn to their left.

“Grab the man’s arm closest to you,” he continues. I smile. He’s been doing weird games like this all night.

I grab Christopher’s forearm.

“Now, after three . . . take his hands in yours and stare into his eyes.”

“What?” I frown.

Christopher chuckles and puts his beer down onto the ground. Everyone is laughing and joking as they take each other’s hands.

“As we wait for the full moon to come in, we are going to do two things,” the DJ calls.

Christopher and I laugh. This is ridiculous.

“We are going to count down, and then you are going to look the person in the eye. Tell them how many people you have slept with, and then you are going to tongue kiss them.”

The bar erupts with laughter.

What?

“Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one.”

“How many people have you slept with?” the DJ cries.

Christopher’s eyes hold mine. “I don’t know.”

“One,” I whisper.

I take his face in my hands and kiss him. My tongue slowly slides through his big lips, and he kisses me back.

Slow and tender, and his eyes flutter closed.

Oh . . .

His arm snaps around my waist, and he drags me closer. The kiss deepens.

And as I hear cheering and laughing in the background . . . we keep kissing.

Just the right pressure and a little suction.

He pulls out of the kiss and stares at me. His forehead crinkles. “What was that?” he snaps.

“I kissed you.”

“One?”

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