I look up into his face, my breath catching slightly as his hips press against mine. He really can move. It’s an absurdly graceful rhythm for a man built like a tank, but then again, I shouldn't be surprised. A man who performs the way he does in the bedroom was bound to have rhythm in the kitchen.
“You’re a nut,” I tell him, leaning my head back to meet his gaze. “A nut who can dance, but still…”
“I’m feeding you,” he says, his gray eyes flashing with a wicked, playful spark. He dips me back slightly, supporting my spine with one massive arm, his face hovering just inches over mine. “Which makes me the most important person in your life right now.”
“Jade makes a better margarita,” I tease softly.
Locke’s jaw tightens in a mock threat, his eyes darkening to slate. “Take it back.”
“Ma
