Most Seductive Beach Scene

Laura Breck

Here's a teasingly hot seduction scene. I love writing the tempting sexual tension scenes as much as I love writing love scenes. I think the spicy dialogue, sensual touches, and deep, dark looks zinging between characters is as exciting as what happens in the bedroom. I hope you enjoy this scene from Dancing in a Hurricane.

"Put your bikini on," Sixto said. "Let's go to the beach."

A half hour later, they lay on a blanket on the warm sand, facing each other, their heads propped up on their arms. The beach was quiet, kids were in school, and the clouds kept most sun lovers away.

Bree smiled in catlike contentment as he ran his fingers down her arm, onto her ribs, over her hip, and back up again. The movement was hypnotic.

"Are we going in the water?" she asked.

"No."

"Then why are we at the beach?"

He grimaced. "Self preservation."

"Hm?"

"I wanted to see you in your bikini, but things get out of control if we're alone."

"Oh." She smiled wryly. "The beach is safe?"

"Mmm hmm." He stopped tracing her curves at her bikini bottom and snuck a finger under the band. He looked at her and grinned. "Maybe not."

"My turn to touch you," she whispered.

He groaned.

She felt his pecs, brushed his nipples with her fingers, and watched his eyes grow dark, almost black. Tauntingly slow, she moved her hands down his ribs, over his abs. When she touched the waistband of his trunks, she stopped and smiled at him. "Am I going too far?"

"Don't tease me."

His tone did not sound amused and she pulled her hand away. "Sorry."

"Don't apologize, just know that I take this very seriously." He reached into the cooler and took out two bottles of water.

"Maybe too seriously?"

"We've talked before about how a relationship can only progress to a certain point if there is no physical intimacy."

She thought about that lately. A lot. "But kissing? Isn't that intimate?"

He touched his lips to hers but moved back. "It is, but nature intended us to do more. Marriage was not instituted by God, but by man. It's part of our being human to consummate our affection for each other."

She nodded. "In theory, that makes perfect sense. But personally, I can't leave behind the beliefs I was brought up with."

His face grew intense as he considered her words. He asked, "Okay, what if we flew to Vegas tonight and got married."

She started to stand. "Okay. Let's go!"

He laughed and gently pushed her back down. "That wasn't a proposal, it was a theoretical supposition."

"Oh, sure. Big words, meaning we're not going to Vegas." She knew where he was headed with his theory and it wasn't fair. He was attacking on two fronts—sexual and emotional.

He opened her water bottle and handed it to her. "If we were married tonight, would your feelings for me change? Would you feel we were any more ready to make love because we exchanged vows and signed a piece of paper?"

She shook her head. "I see your point, but to me, marriage isn't a five minute stop in Vegas. It's months of preparation and classes with your pastor, it's writing vows that actually mean something. The piece of paper makes it legal, but the promises, the connection between two people, make it spiritual."

His eyebrows drew together. After a moment, he conceded. "Good counterpoint, but I'm going to get out my psych books when we get home." He grinned wickedly. "This discussion isn't over."

"You don't like losing an argument, do you."

"Hush." He put a finger on her lips. "Drink your water."

She laughed and lay on her stomach. "Would you put some sunscreen on my back?" Pulling her hair to the side, she laid her head so she could see him. His eyes traveled down her body and turned dark with passion.

He sat up, she closed her eyes, and within seconds, she felt the squirt of lotion on her back. He sat on her butt, his knees on each side of her hips.

Her eyes popped open. "Jeez!" She started to push herself up, but he unfastened her bikini top and she quickly flattened herself on the blanket to protect her modesty. "Sixto! Do you want me to flash everyone?"

He laughed. "Cariña, there are twelve people on the beach and the closest are a half-mile away."

She wiggled her bottom. "You're heavy."

He sat heavier on her. "What have I told you about wiggling that juicy behind?"

She sighed and held still. "No wiggling?"

He eased some of his weight off her. "Damn right no wiggling." Rubbing his hands together, he massaged the sunscreen into her skin. The sun appeared as the clouds drifted past and warmed her as his fingers massaged her back, her sides, shoulders and arms. "Legs?" he asked.

She'd already put some on, but his touch was heaven and she said, "Yes, please."

He got off her, but turned around and sat back on her butt.

"Oohf. Would you stop that? You're going to flatten me."

"With your big ass? Impossible."

"Oh!" She reached around and yanked his ponytail. "You're horrible."

"Yeah." He squirted lotion down one thigh and up the other. "You love it."

She did. Every minute of it.

He rubbed the lotion in, massaging deep between her legs and on the outer thighs. Moving lower, he rubbed her calves, her heels, and the soles of her feet.

"Mmm. Sixto, that's marvelous." She almost fell asleep.

"Turn over."

"Fasten my top."

"Am I your entourage today?"

"Mmm hmm. Today and every day." As long as she could keep him.

He hooked the ends together and ran his hand down her spine to the curve of her lower back. "Beautiful."

Turning over, she felt beautiful when he looked at her with his expressive eyes. He sat next to her hips, his gaze sliding over her body, heating her blood and making her core tingle as he stared at her V zone. She closed her eyes as flutters began deep inside her belly.

He squirted sunscreen on her stomach and palmed it into her skin in a spiral motion. His hand brushed the underside of her breasts and snuck under the band of her bottom. He finished by circling a finger in her belly button. It sent a jolt to her womb and her body shuddered with pleasure.

"Sorry, cariña. Couldn't resist." He rubbed his hand over her stomach again.

"I thought you said the beach was safe?" Her voice came out raspy.

"Spread your legs."

Opening one eye, she said, "No."

He smiled and grasped her ankle, moving her legs apart. "This won't hurt at all." He knelt between her knees.

She closed her eyes again. "Just make it fast then."

He laughed and squirted a zigzag on both her thighs. His big hands rubbed the lotion in. "Bree, it's going to be slow." His voice dropped lower. "Hot and slow." He spread lotion on her shins and the tops of her feet and in between each toe. He rubbed one foot with his fingers, pressing his thumbs into the muscles.

"Oh, yes, that feels good." She never had a foot massage before. Kyle didn't like bare feet. She wiggled her toes and he moved on to her other foot.

He ran his hands unhurriedly up her shins and over her knees.

Looking into his eyes, his need heated her. Between her legs, she quivered.

His gaze traveled down her body as his hands slid up her thighs to her bikini. He whispered, "I want you."

Her breath came in tiny gasps, but she managed, "No, Sixto."

Instantly, his hands were gone from her, he stood. "Oh Christ." His breathing huffed as unsteady as her own, his hard cock pressing against the fabric of his trunks. He grabbed his towel and walked away. "I'm gonna hit the shower."

 
********

As this post publishes, I'll be on a white sand beach in Florida, reading romance novels and sipping slushy drinks. Knowing my hubby, there won't be any seduction happening on the public beach. What are your favorite things to do on the beach?

Laura

~Smart Women ~Sexy Men ~Seductive Romance

LauraBreck.com

Dancing in a Hurricane is available in digital and paperback formats at Amazon and in paperback at Createspace

Win a Copy of Dancing in a Hurricane

Laura Breck

I've never loved any job as much as I love writing. It's creative; finding characters, detailing a plot, writing emotional, steamy love scenes. Woo-hoo! And it's technical: grammar, spelling, deep point of view - the craft of writing. The two sides of writing keep both sides of my brain working.  

When I start plotting a book, I usually begin with something I've dreamt about, or a situation from real life. Reading other author's work has never triggered ideas for my own books. Of course, what I dream about may be the byproduct of what I read the night before, but that's the tiny miracle of my subconscious at work. 

If I'm writing a long book, I will plot it on the computer. I write plot points, sometimes dialogue, and will often write a whole scene that is in my head, just so I don't forget it. The plot for one of my first books ended up at 30,000 words, so you can imagine how long the book was. 

With Dancing in a Hurricane, the plotting was fun because of the setting and the multicultural aspect of the book. Sixto is a Cuban-American, and he and his friends use Cubonics - slang words that capture their culture. 

It was important to me to have a very accurate view of Miami. I did extensive research online, and spoke to people who live there, asking them dozens of questions, some of which I'm sure they thought were very strange. 

Reading the Miami papers online helped me develop the conflict for the story; a controversy which is still a hot topic for the city. After I wrote the first draft, I contacted the local Romance Writers of America chapter and asked for a reader to critique the story from the cultural point of view. I was lucky to find a woman who was married to a Cuban-Amercian man and she gave me some wonderful input. 

While each story is different, the process is usually the same. 1) dream up a story, 2) plot it out, 3) research like crazy, 4) rewrite, rewrite, rewrite until it's as close to perfect and I can make it. 

What is your favorite part about your job? Do you like the creative process, or does the logical side of your work appeal to you more? Leave a comment for a chance to win a copy of Dancing in a Hurricane.
 

Good Luck, and Happy Monday!
Laura
~Smart Women ~Sexy Men ~Seductive Romance
LauraBreck.com
Dancing in a Hurricane is available in digital and paperback formats at Amazon and in paperback at Createspace

Meet Sixto Doria of Dancing in a Hurricane

Laura Breck

Today we're having coffee with Sixto Doria at his home in Miami, Florida. Besides strong, black coffee, he's set out a plate of pastelitos, traditional Cuban pastries dripping with guava jelly. Thank you for having us in your home today, Mr. Doria.

~
It's Sixto, please, and the pleasure is all mine.

Q: Will you tell our readers a little bit about yourself?

I'd be happy to. I'm a second generation Cuban-American. I'm finishing my masters degree in psychology, and am looking forward to working with marginalized youth as a social worker.

Q: Impressive. Are you a full-time student?

No, part time. I work a few side jobs for income and…side benefits. *grins*

Q: Would you like to explain the 'side benefits'?



Sixto Doria *

I work as a model. It's easy work and lucrative. And I work a few weekends a month as a bartender at a bar on South Beach. The side benefits are the interesting women I meet.

Q: Ah, yes. I can just imagine. What's one thing about you that would surprise us?

I'm also on the payroll of a very profitable, but controversial, enterprise.

Q: Controversial? Would you care to explain that?

No. *laughs* The business model has been in the news lately. It's being called 'immoral', but as of right now, it's still legal. *shrugs* I'm not proud of it, but I have my reasons for needing the extra revenue.

Q: I won't pry any further into that. So, what happened the day you met Bree?

*smiles* I walked in on her as she'd just come out of the shower. I thought she was my roommate, her sister, Cloe. We both received a shock that day.

Q: Really? That sounds like a good story.

It is. Bree had inherited half of the house her sister owned, and I lived in the other half. I didn't know Cloe was dead, and Bree didn't know that I was a man. It's a crazy, amazing love story that really began…with a dance.

Q: What a lovely story, Sixto. What was your first impression of Bree?

Bree lived her while life in a small town outside Seattle, Washington. You can imagine the culture shock of moving to Miami. *wiggles eyebrows* Especially moving in with a very culturally-rich guy like me.

Q: You are definitely rich in something. What was Bree's first impression of you?

Well, she was wearing a towel, I walked in wearing the clothes I'd worn at a photo shoot for a motorcycle company, and I'm sure she was close to fainting. *chuckles*

Q: Tense moments, I bet. What happened that changed your mind about her, and hers about you?

We talked. Long, deep talks about why she was estranged from her sister, about why she was waiting for the right guy to come along, and about why I though she should take advantage of her sexy roommate - me - while she waited for that perfect man.

Q: Did everything go smoothly after that?

Oh, hell, no. Pardon my language. *winks* She dated, with appalling consequences, I dated with some bizarre results, my family got involved and made a mess of things. It wasn't smooth by any definition of the word.

Q: So then it was happily-ever-after?

Not for a long time. It took a major fight, a bad separation, and my finally coming to my senses to get there.

Q: But the story ends well?

I am the happiest man in the world. *smiles*

Q: Thanks for being with us today, Sixto, and we all hope you and Bree have lots of dances and a few mild hurricanes in which to enjoy them!

Thank you, and enjoy the hot Miami nights while you're here.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

EXCERPT: Sixto's photo shoot ended early. The lighting wasn't right on South Beach, but he got to keep the swim trunks. He pulled into the garage at 1:30 and saw the Miata. Bree had the contents of Cloe's desk and if she'd found what he thought she might find, she'd be waiting inside for him. With a shotgun.

The management company listed his name as an employee. He hadn't mentioned anything about it to her. Maybe he should tell her about his role in the business. It might save his ass later, if she dug deeper into the company structure. He could still play ignorant about the moneymaker in the east warehouse.

He tossed the mail onto the table and picked up a used plate and fork. Okay, so she was that kind of roommate. Walking toward the kitchen, he glanced out at the pool and stopped so suddenly, the fork slid off the plate onto the carpet.

He blinked to clear his vision, but it was as perfect as he first saw. Bree, in a skimpy bikini, floating on a flat raft, her long, blonde hair swirling in the water like waves of silk. Her big, red sunglasses covered half her face. With her arms out to her sides, he could see every inch of her perfect breasts. He swallowed, felt himself move in his trunks. Her little pooch of a stomach was his undoing and a full woody grew.

The bikini bottom barely covered between her thighs and her legs went on forever, so long, they overshot the raft and her feet trailed in the water. He had a difficult time catching a complete breath. Her face was the only thing on her that resembled her sister. Where Cloe was hard, Bree was firm. Where Cloe was concave, Bree was round and soft. And personality. Bree had one, Cloe didn't.

He picked up the fork and set the dish in the sink. The smart thing to do would be to take a cold shower and do some studying.

He wasn't in a smart mood.

Sixto went into his bedroom and opened the patio door. He heard the noise. The Beatles played on the outdoor stereo and Bree sang along. Not well.

"Hey, Ringo! Mind if I join you?"

She lifted her head and visored her hand over her eyes. "Oh. Hi." She slid off the raft into the water, got out and grabbed her towel, and wrapped it around her.

For a long moment, all he could do was stare at her fine booty and incredible legs. Then her actions registered. "You're leaving?"

"I'll be right back." She walked into her bedroom.

He dove into the deep end and stayed down, enjoying the cool quiet under the water. He surfaced and tread water, looking into her room to see what she was doing.

She walked out wearing a long, white t-shirt over her suit.

"You don't have to cover up for me."

She shook her head and descended the steps into the pool. "Oh, yes I do." She struggled to climb back onto her raft.

He would have helped, but he still had a high hard one and she didn't need to see that.

She made it aboard, lying on her stomach. Pulling her hair off to one side, she crossed her arms on the raft and rested her head on them. "What happened to your modeling?"

"Cancelled. They want to do a morning shoot instead." He swam to the stairs and sat. He needed his sunglasses, but it would be a few more minutes before the cool water helped get his body under control. "They let me keep the trunks."

"Purple. Interesting."

"GQ Magazine."

"Ah." She was quiet for a few minutes. Was she checking out his muscles from behind her sunglasses?

He smiled, tightened his chest and fisted his hands, effectively bulking up his arms.

She jerked and after a moment, laughed. "Ick. Stop it. You're all steroided out."

"Hey, I've never taken a 'roid in my life."

"Mmm hmm. Just your strenuous work as a bartender and model that keeps you pumped up like a hot air balloon." She laughed. "Or is it lifting all those heavy textbooks?"

"Chica, you're a ball buster." He nodded toward his bedroom. "You've seen my weight equipment. I work out every day." He posed, looking at his pecs. "My body is my instrument," he teased.

"Oh, please spare me." She splashed him.

He chuckled and jumped out of the pool, walking toward his bedroom to get his sunglasses. Turning, he asked, "Would you like a drink."

"Okay."

"What sounds good?"

"Mmm. Something fruity, refreshing, with an umbrella."

"So, I'm your personal bartender now?"

"I tip very well."

He laughed. "I've gotten fifty dollar tips before. Think you can match that?"

"Fifty bucks? That must have been an incredible drink."

He shrugged. "She was trying to buy my affection."

"Really. What kind of a bar do you work at?"

"Perfectly respectable." He wagged his brows at her. "With a few exceptions. It's on South Beach. Come with me some night. My friends are usually there and if you don't want to stay all night, I'd trust them to give you a ride home."

"I'll think about it."

"Right." He went into the house. He'd learned long ago that, coming from a woman, "I'll think about it" meant "no." In the kitchen, he stirred up a concoction of tequila, cassis, lemon and ginger ale, found a paper umbrella and stuck a slice of lemon on it. He'd also learned that liquor made women easier and he reached for the tequila bottle to fortify her drink. At the last second, he pulled back. What the hell was he thinking? He didn't get women drunk.

He brought her drink and all the ingredients out to the pool bar, grabbed a beer from the fridge, poured it into a plastic glass, and slid on his sunglasses.

She still floated on her stomach and the way the t-shirt clung to her ass should have been illegal. So round and irresistible, it made his mouth water. Keeping his eyes off the temptation, he waded in and handed her the drink.

"Thank you. I'll get the next round."

The image of her standing up and walking around in a wet t-shirt gave him a heart palpitation. "To our friendship."

"Friendship." She touched her plastic glass to his and sipped. "Oh, Sixto, this is really good. If I had a fifty on me, I'd definitely tip you."

"Chicks like that drink."

"Mmm. What do you call it?"

"Sixto on the Beach."

She laughed, that crazy, snorting, loud laugh that made him warm inside.

BLURB: A Seduction as Overpowering as a Hurricane

When her twin sister dies, Bree Prentis moves from Seattle to Miami to inherit a shadowy business, an upscale house, and her sister’s sexy Cuban business partner and housemate, Sixto Doria. She adjusts to the vivid culture of Miami, but constantly bumping into Sixto is straining her hands-off vow. Bree is looking for a man to give her a happily ever after, and Sixto has sworn off relationships. He knows it’s wrong to want her, but she makes him forget why he's not right for her, makes him crave her natural honesty and wholesome beauty.

When he teaches her to dance the Salsa Cubana, then suggests she spend the night in his bed, Bree is shocked—and tempted. In the midst of a hurricane, Bree surrenders to her reckless desire and makes love with Sixto. Could Bree be the one Sixto's been waiting for? If she finds out he’s hiding a nasty truth from her—their company is a façade for a semi-legal business—she will shut it down, and Sixto will lose the income his family depends on. And more frightening for Sixto, he would lose Bree.

When she researches their company’s outrageous revenue, she sees a pattern of untruths leading back to Sixto. The word ‘love’ enters their relationship, and she prays his duplicity is all a misunderstanding, and his seduction is not merely a distraction to keep her from discovering the truth.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Enjoy your coffee and pastelitos!

Laura
~Smart Women ~Sexy Men ~Seductive Romance
LauraBreck.com
Dancing in a Hurricane is available in digital and paperback formats at Amazon and in paperback at Createspace
*photo of Sixto Doria purchased from RomanceNovelCenter.com

A Video You Can Dance To

Laura Breck

I love writing, but I also love creating video book trailers for my books. This is one of my favorites. I love the music, it makes me want to get up and dance. And the scenery isn't too bad, either! Jimmy Thomas is on my cover, and there's also another very sexy picture of him in the video. The photos of him with his ponytail are exactly what I pictured my hero, Sixto, to look like. Here's the video. Let me know what you think. Did you have to get up and dance? ;-)





Book Blurb: A Seduction as Overpowering as a Hurricane

When her twin sister dies, Bree Prentis moves from Seattle to Miami to inherit a shadowy business, an upscale house, and her sister’s sexy Cuban business partner and housemate, Sixto Doria. She adjusts to the vivid culture of Miami, but constantly bumping into Sixto is straining her hands-off vow. Bree is looking for a man to give her a happily ever after, and Sixto has sworn off relationships. He knows it’s wrong to want her, but she makes him forget why he's not right for her, makes him crave her natural honesty and wholesome beauty.

When he teaches her to dance the Salsa Cubana, then suggests she spend the night in his bed, Bree is shocked—and tempted. In the midst of a hurricane, Bree surrenders to her reckless desire and makes love with Sixto. Could Bree be the one Sixto's been waiting for? If she finds out he’s hiding a nasty truth from her—their company is a façade for a semi-legal business—she will shut it down, and Sixto will lose the income his family depends on. And more frightening for Sixto, he would lose Bree.

When she researches their company’s outrageous revenue, she sees a pattern of untruths leading back to Sixto. The word ‘love’ enters their relationship, and she prays his duplicity is all a misunderstanding, and his seduction is not merely a distraction to keep her from discovering the truth.

Excerpt:

She brought the phone back to the living room. Sixto stood at the stove, cooking again.

"Is it supper already?" She sat on a stool at the counter.

He shrugged. "I eat a lot.

"You're a big guy."

His shoulders started to shake. "Yesterday I was macho. Today I'm a big guy."

"Are you laughing at my lack of subtlety?" She did have a habit of blurting things out.

He turned and smiled. "You just can't help flirting, can you?"

"I…" Was she flirting? Evidently he thought she was.

Had he been flirting with her this morning? All his compliments about how she'd make a great girlfriend. Was she just too naïve to catch his meaning? He reached into the refrigerator and she stared at his fine butt. When he turned and caught her, he gave her a wink.

The gesture warmed her blood and flooded her brain with too many visuals of her in Sixto's arms—something that she just couldn't let happen.

Okay, they were both guilty of making flirty comments and it had to stop before things went too far. She wasn't interested in a physical relationship without a commitment, and he'd just admitted that he only tended bar for the "social benefits." Sexually, he was way out of her league.

It was time to tackle the issue head on. "Sixto, we've been dancing around it since yesterday, but…"

He looked over his shoulder at her. "What?"

"We both know our boundaries, right?"

He closed the fridge and went back to the stove.

She smelled onion, garlic, peppers, and some fantastic spices. Over the sound of her stomach complaining hungrily, she heard him mumble, "Yeah."

She waited, but he didn't say more. "I mean, we live in the same house and you and my sister were…" She searched furiously for the right word.

"Roommates." He turned toward her. "We were roommates. Nothing more." He stalked toward the counter where she sat.

Bree braced her hands on the counter, expecting some kind of disclosure. Sixto squatted down on the other side of the counter and opened the cabinet underneath. He wasn't going to say any more?

She stood on the barstool's foot rail and leaned across the counter, looking down at the top of his head as he rooted through the contents of the cabinet. "You never dated? Like boyfriend/girlfriend?"

He looked up at her. "I know the meaning of the term dating, thank you." He went back to rummaging. "And no, we didn't click that way."

Maybe she shouldn't ask what kind of clicking they did do. But she was perversely curious. "So, what kind—"

He pulled out a small kitchen tool—a mystery item to her—stood and slammed the cabinet door shut all in one motion.

Before she could pull herself off the counter, he leaned down close to her face and annunciated, "Just. Roommates." He stared into her eyes for a few provocative seconds before he turned and walked to the stove.

That look. He melted her inside with just his sexy brown eyes. She slithered back into her chair, flustered speechless, staring at his broad back.

~ ~ ~ ~

Hope you enjoyed the video!

Laura

~Smart Women ~Sexy Men ~Seductive Romance

LauraBreck.com

Dancing in a Hurricane is available in digital format at Amazon and in paperback at Createspace

New Release - Dancing in a Hurricane

I love it when a new book comes out. It gives me a chance to show off my beautiful cover art. This one features a very steamy picture of Jimmy Thomas. 

Book Blurb: A Seduction as Overpowering as a Hurricane

When her twin sister dies, Bree Prentis moves from Seattle to Miami to inherit a shadowy business, an upscale house, and her sister’s sexy Cuban business partner and housemate, Sixto Doria. She adjusts to the vivid culture of Miami, but constantly bumping into Sixto is straining her hands-off vow. Bree is looking for a man to give her a happily ever after, and Sixto has sworn off relationships. He knows it’s wrong to want her, but she makes him forget why he's not right for her, makes him crave her natural honesty and wholesome beauty.

When he teaches her to dance the Salsa Cubana, then suggests she spend the night in his bed, Bree is shocked—and tempted. In the midst of a hurricane, Bree surrenders to her reckless desire and makes love with Sixto. Could Bree be the one Sixto's been waiting for? If she finds out he’s hiding a nasty truth from her—their company is a façade for a semi-legal business—she will shut it down, and Sixto will lose the income his family depends on. And more frightening for Sixto, he would lose Bree.

When she researches their company’s outrageous revenue, she sees a pattern of untruths leading back to Sixto. The word ‘love’ enters their relationship, and she prays his duplicity is all a misunderstanding, and his seduction is not merely a distraction to keep her from discovering the truth.

~ ~ ~ ~

Picture it, Miami, Florida, a hot, seductive night. Bree and Marisa are at the nightclub where Sixto works as a bartender. Since she's met him, she's tried hard to keep her distance. He's sexy, tempting, and too much for her to handle.

Excerpt: James turned to Sixto. "Your roommate here doesn't think she can dance."

Sixto glanced at Bree. "Anyone can dance."

She couldn't read his mood, but he seemed closed in, somehow.

Marisa and Rico came back to the bar, breathless. She asked Bree, "Why aren't you out there?"

She made a face. "Too fast for a first-timer."

"No it's not." Marisa eased onto her stool. "Sixto, take her out there. Show her how to Salsa Cubana."

He reached down into the beer cooler and opened a fresh one for Rico. "Too busy."

"Busy?" James laughed. "It's dead in here, bro. Go on, I can handle it."

Bree caught Sixto shooting a meaningful look at Rico. Great, not only were Marisa and Rico conspiring, now Sixto and Rico had secrets, too. She shook her head. "I'd rather watch. Thanks anyway, Sixto."

Marisa scowled at her brother. "You leave James alone at the bar all the time to dance with the chicas."

Sixto sighed and stalked away.

Bree released her pent-up breath and took a sip of wine. That was uncomfortable.

Sixto appeared on her side of the bar, right in front of her, his hand out. "Dance?"

Bree considered saying no, but would that give everyone the idea that she was avoiding him? That there was something going on between them?

She set down her glass and put her hand in his. His big, warm hand. The tingling sensation started in her palm and raced up her arm, spiraling through her to end low in her belly.

He led her to the floor. He stood stiffly, put his hand on her waist, and took her other hand in his. The other couples pressed against each other and she waited, breathlessly, for the crush of his body to hers. It didn't come.

He danced slowly, their hips a foot apart. His face seemed pinched, his eyes unreadable. She followed his lead, he told her when to step a different way, or turn under his arm. She forced herself to forget that where he held her hand, her palm warmed at his touch. She tried to ignore where his palm pressed hot and firm against her hip through the thin fabric of her dress. Her hand on his muscular bicep felt every sexy flex of each tempting muscle in his arm. She made herself forget that, too.

In less than a minute, the song ended and she stepped away from him.

They dropped their arms, and Bree sucked in air. Without his touch on her skin, her heart slowed from its manic race, and the heat drained from her cheeks. The next song started. A slower, song with a tantalizing rhythm.

She looked at him, his face looked fierce, his eyes severe.

"One more?" he grumbled.

He wanted her to say no, wanted her to run from him and be her usual cautious, conservative self. Well, she'd had enough wine tonight that her backbone was right where it should be. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction of saying no. She nodded and stepped closer to him.

A muscle in his jaw worked for a moment, as if he considered walking away. Taking her hand in his, he put his other palm on her waist. He taught her the steps. They were easier than the last dance and she didn't have to concentrate as hard. The song grew more intense, the primal beat stirred her soul, made her warm deep inside, made her feel sexy. She watched other women gyrating their hips and she let her body move to the rhythm, taking away her inhibitions.

"Goddamnit, Bree." His eyes burned with passion. "What the hell are you doing to me?" He stared into her eyes, put his hand on her lower back, and pulled her tight against him. Pausing for a moment, he groaned and began moving again, sensually, demanding her response.

She gasped, his hard body pressed along her soft one. Breasts, stomach, thighs. A mudslide of sexual awareness covered her, tingled in her nerve endings. He moved his hips the same way she was grinding and she felt every inch of his hardness against her stomach.

She told herself to move away, but it was too intoxicating for her body to ignore. He spun them to the middle of the floor, away from the prying eyes at the bar. His breath caressed her face, hot and fast. He stared down at her, her gaze collided with his.

"You shouldn't be in my arms." He tightened his hold on her. "Next time I ask you to dance," he said between clenched teeth, "say no."

~ ~ ~ ~

¡Muy Caliente! Hope you like the book!
Laura
LauraBreck.com
Dancing in a Hurricane is available at Amazon