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annoying kid who’d grown up to be one
of the most physically beautiful men walking the earth really, truly wanted her ,
Claire Reagan, the tall and plain size ten, twelve when she was feeling
bloated.
    “We started something,” he said next to her ear, just loud
enough she could hear him over the music.
    She peeled her eyes open and looked up at him when he raised
his head, not knowing what he meant until she realized other couples had
started dancing as well. Three of them, the one she could see over his shoulder
holding each other tightly, swaying together erotically, the woman looking
directly at Claire over her man’s shoulder. The moment Claire made eye contact,
the woman smiled suggestively.
    It was so intimate, so scandalous, moving in Diego’s arms,
her body on fire for him while someone else watched with a look in her eye that
said she knew . They were perfect strangers, but Claire imagined the
woman could tell how much she wished they were anywhere else but out in public
where she could really get her hands on him.
    Naked as the day he was born, preferably.
    Or maybe the woman wanted in on the action. It was hard to
say.
    All Claire knew was that she’d never been so turned-on in
her life, and the fact that someone else was watching only seemed to be adding
fuel to the fire. Sharp, zinging shocks of arousal through her sex and her
nipples—which was an entirely new sensation for her—caused her to shiver.
    She was aware Diego was watching her. His hands wandered
slowly, lightly over her back, her waist and hips, never losing contact with
her body. His eyes were so intensely riveted to hers she found she couldn’t
look away. All she wanted in the entire world was for him to kiss her, right
there in the middle of the dance floor.
    No. More than that, she wanted to drag his gorgeous ass to
the bathroom and let him have his way with her up against the wall. Any wall.
Cripes, a toilet stall would do.
    “You were my first crush, you know,” he said, completely
catching her off guard.
    They’d been talking all evening from the car ride to the
airport until the moment he asked her to dance, remembering things about
school, sharing stories about their adult lives. As Claire kept her gaze locked
on his she realized this was different, this confession, and she wasn’t quite
sure what it meant. All she knew was it cooled her off somewhat, and she knew exactly
why.
    “With all the girls you used to talk to in school, I’m
having a hard time believing that’s true, Diego,” she admitted, then regretted
it when it made him frown.
    They’d been having a great time the whole night, and she was
about to ruin it.
    One of his arms went back around her waist to hold her
close, the other continued to wander, and all the while the slow sway of his
hips never stopped. “Because no one could have possibly found the shy, chubby
girl of the class pretty? Or desirable?”
    She snorted up an embarrassing laugh. “Desirable? At eleven
years old?”
    He made an appreciative humming sound she heard above the
music. “You had that long, strawberry-scented hair that always got all over my
desk when you would flick it over your shoulders, like you knew it was
torturing me.”
    The fact that he remembered that little detail made her
blush. She’d used Alberto VO5 strawberry shampoo right up until she moved into
a dorm room with three other girls her freshman year of college. Her roommates
had teased her about using what they called baby shampoo until she’d switched
just to shut them up and get them to leave her alone.
    “It used to drive me out of my mind, watching you put
bubble-gum lip gloss on that sexy mouth of yours all the time. It gave me a
stiffy every time, right there at my desk.” He held up one hand, finger and
thumb an inch apart. “It was this big.”
    That made the flush in her cheeks go just a little hotter,
but she laughed.
    “It’s a little bigger now,” he added, and moved his fingers
another half inch