Eleven
Jase couldn’t move.
He stared into Carey’s eyes, the vivid blue awash in heat and desire. His full lips were parted, waiting, his body pressed tightly to his.
It’s not a dream. This is really happening.
“Jase?” Carey’s thumb traced along his jaw, leaving tingles in its wake. “I want you to kiss me.”
Every nerve ending Jase possessed was on fire. Even as he longed to bend his head and take Carey’s mouth with his, the faint tinge of uncertainty that lingered in his gaze warned Jase to take it slow.
“Mmm.” He swept him into an ostentatious turn. “The song’s not over yet.”
Gasping, Carey clutched onto him. “I’m asking you for a kiss,” he groused, “and here you are trying to trip me.”
“Trip you?” Jase sputtered in mock outrage. “What I’m trying to do is lead, but my dance partner
