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Trent, but it had mattered to the group. It was just another thing Trent regretted from high school. However. he and Carson had worked past that a long time ago and he usually appreciated his company and down to earth ways, but his blood boiled at the nickname.
    “Don’t call her that.” Trent took another sip of his beer, angry with himself more than he was angry with Carson. But of course Carson knew that. Hell, he knew more about Trent’s past than anyone else did. When his buddy winked, he realized it had just been to rile him. He flipped him off.
    Owen was oblivious to everything that wasn’t Daphne’s ass. He turned to look at Trent with a shit-eating grin on his face. “I don’t care who the hell she was. I just want to know if she’ll dance with me.” Before Trent could say something completely stupid, like telling his buddy to keep his paws off, when he had no claim over Daphne.  Owen slid out of the booth and claimed Daphne’s next dance.
    Carson looked over at him and just stared.
    “What?” Trent shifted in his seat.
    Carson smirked. “Why don’t you just go and ask her to dance?”
    “I don’t want too. Is that not a good enough reason?” Trent fiddled with the label on his beer.
    “No it’s not. Usually you’ve danced with half of the bar by now. But you haven’t gotten out of the booth since she got here. If you go dance it might ease that hardon you have for her.” Carson took a sip of his own beer and Trent tried to shift himself in his jeans again.
    He knew his friend was trying to help but that didn’t mean he wanted anyone to see the actual hardon he had for Daphne’s barely concealed breasts and ass cheeks that kept playing peek-a-boo as she moved around the floor. When he didn’t reply, Carson just shook his head.
    Owen danced two dances with her and then took her a drink. By the time she ended up in someone else’s arms, Trent had downed two more beers. Daphne’s skin now had a fine sheen of sweat and the guy who was currently dancing with her had his hand inching closer and closer to her butt. When his palm landed on the pert cheek, Trent slid effortlessly out of the booth.
    By the time Trent reached the dance floor, the song had switched and another man was approaching her. “Chrome” by Trace Adkins began playing over the speakers and Trent’s lips twitched. Daphne was turned away from him so she never noticed his approach. Before someone else could grab her, he placed his hand on her shoulder.
    When she turned to face him, her eyes widened in surprise. She opened her mouth to say something, but he slipped his hand around her waist and brought her arms up. Her right hand gripped in his left, and her left hand draped around his shoulder. The baseline was kicking up and Trent easily slipped into the rhythm of an easy two-step. She easily melted against his body, fluidly moving hers with his.
    Daphne curled her fingers tighter around his shoulder. “Why Mr. Bradshaw I didn’t know you could dance. Well dance like this, anyway.”
    Trent slid his hand a little lower on her waist, enjoying the feel of her curves in his hands. “Ms. Brooks, you haven’t seen anything yet.”
    As he came around the corner, he led her through a series of turns and twist and was delighted as she followed his every lead, making her body an extension of his. When he spun her back around, he placed her body next to his so that their hands were in a figure eight and she was tucked next to his side. She surprised him even more by staying completely in-step with him and meshing her body flush up against the side of his.
    His cock stiffened more in his jeans. She smelled like expensive perfume and sweat. The smile on her face was teasing and the laughter in her eyes provided a challenge. When the chorus came up he caught her mouthing the words and when he spun her back to face her, he sang a long in her ear, which brought another smile to her gorgeous, glossy lips.
    He knew she would probably feel