Page 3 of Tempting Miles
I shouldn’t be looking at Penny Levine. Definitely shouldn’t be drooling over the woman’s chest. She’s got her life completely in order. Successful, refined. And rich—filthy rich. And not just from working as Gio’s financial advisor either. From what I’ve heard, she comes from money.
Yeah, I definitely can’t go there.
I’m doing fine for myself, but I’m not built for a lavish lifestyle. I’m no man for a brat.
Although if she ever decides to test drive my dick, I wouldn’t be opposed to it.
Fuck, here I go again.
I press my lips together as Granny’s voice cuts through my thoughts.One of these days, that head you let do all the thinking is going to get you in trouble.
Shaking it off, I push the thoughts away and focus on my sister’s wedding.
Tonight is about Rain and Xander. Nothing else.
The reception’s in full swing, and Xander and Rain spared no expense. Three chefs are working different stations—a full seafood bar, a grilling station, and a spread of traditional Colombian food. I’ve eaten enough to knock me out for the night, but I’ll be damned if I tap out before the bride and groom.
Now that both my sisters are married, God knows when the next wedding will be. River’s too busy outrunning all his trauma to see what’s been right in front of him for a while now. Merlin—my youngest brother—just signed with an expansion team in the National Soccer League. Kid’s living his dream. And me? Yeah, no thanks. Everyone knows attachments aren’t my thing.
“Miles.”
I glance to my right at the sound of my name, but before I can place who it is, a hand taps my shoulder. I turn—and there she is.
Penny.
“Hey,” I say, the word slipping out on a breath.
She looks… gorgeous tonight. At some point after the ceremony, she ditched the long, flowy dress for a short-as-hell silver sequined mini that’s got more than a few of Xander’s teammates doing double takes.
Not that I’ve been checking her out all night or anything.
“Wanna dance?” she asks, casually.
Her honey-colored eyes catch the moonlight, her skin glowing—a mix of sweat and the night’s light making her infinitely breathtaking.
“I don’t know how to dance,” I answer, and yeah, it sounds as lame as it feels.
She rolls her eyes, grabs my wrist, and pulls me toward the dance floor anyway.
“Okay,” I mutter, hating the hint of panic creeping into my voice. I can manage a basic one-two step, no problem, but this music Xander likes—reggaeton—is a whole different game.
“Relax,” Penny says, hooking her thumbs into the belt loops of my pants.
Fuck.
I’m used to being this close to women, but I’m usually the one calling the shots. Something tells me Penny Levine could have me eating out of her hand if I let her.
She starts swaying to the rhythm, and magically, my body follows. My hips move with her like it’s second nature.
“Yeah, Miles. Just like that,” she says, flashing me a blinding smile.
I exhale through my nose, and the longer I let her lead, the better I feel. By the third song, my hands settle low on her back as we grind together.
“So how’d you learn to dance like this?” I lean down and ask against her ear.
Instead of pulling away, she turns her head, her cheek grazing mine. “My mom’s Colombian. She taught me everything—how to dance, cook, speak proper Spanish.”
Damn, this woman is full of surprises.
