All You Can Handle (Moments In Maplesville Book 5) Read Free Page A

her favorite toe ring gleamed under the lights. She set her elbow on the tabletop and rested her chin on her fist.
    “It sure took you long enough to notice me,” Sonny opened. “I’ve been sitting over there trying to snag your attention for nearly an hour.”
    “Have you?”
    “Don’t bullshit me,” she said. “You’ve been watching me all night. I just said that to stroke your ego.”
    He chuckled. “Okay, so maybe I’ve been watching you too. I’ve been trying to figure out those mixed signals you’ve been tossing my way.”
    She released an exaggerated gasp. “Mixed signals? I have not been sending you any such thing.”
    “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” he drawled, his eyes dancing with amusement. “You can save that drama for the stage. I’m not buying the innocent act.”
    “I wasn’t acting,” Sonny said. She traced her finger along the rim of the table. “I was trying to decide if you were worth it.”
    A curious brow peaked over those gorgeous amber-green eyes. “And?”
    His voice had dipped several octaves, making her skin tingle with that single word.
    Sonny matched his raised brow. “We’re sitting here together, aren’t we?”
    A slow smile stretched across his lips, and for the first time she noticed the small dimple in his cheek. Just like that, she was toast. Resisting that dimple was out of the question.
    Sonny lost track of time as minutes meandered into hours. Their conversation spanned the entire spectrum of ridiculousness, from arguing over the casting in the Marvel Comics action movies, to agreeing on the brilliance of McDonald’s perennial McRib. She’d never imagined there could be so many double entendres about a sandwich.
    With every sexy, flirty innuendo that passed her lips, the fake, cloistered Madison White she’d been molded into over the course of her life died a little more. She felt emboldened; the wild and free Sonny she’d embraced didn’t hesitate when it came to asking for what she wanted.
    And right now, she wanted Ian.
    “So, why don’t you dance?” she asked him.
    He shrugged. “Just not my thing. Why don’t you?”
    “Because I look like a drowning duck whenever I try to dance,” she said with a laugh. “Even years of classes couldn’t help me. I’m living proof that the ‘all black people can dance’ stereotype is just a myth.”
    “You can’t be that bad.”
    “You wanna bet?” She asked. She tipped her head back and downed the remainder of the drink she’d been nursing for the past half-hour, then grabbed Ian by the wrist.
    He tugged. “What are you doing?”
    “Come on,” she said. “I demand we get on the dance floor and make fools of ourselves.”
    Pulling him out of the booth, she grabbed him by the lapels of that nice-fitting suit and didn’t stop until they were smack in the center of the dance floor.
    She didn’t worry about learning the dance moves. She could get what she wanted by simply moving her hips from side to side. She turned around and fitted her back against his front, pulling Ian’s right hand around her waist and placing it over her bellybutton. He flicked his thumb back and forth over her bellybutton ring.
    “This is so damn sexy,” he whispered in her ear.
    Taking full control of the brazenness she’d been cultivating over the course of the evening, she rubbed her backside against him and was rewarded moments later with the reaction she’d hoped for. The telltale bulge that hardened behind his zipper spurred her on, feeding her self-confidence, daring her to be bolder than she ever thought she could be. She ground herself even more against him, her stomach fluttering at the desperate moan he made in her ear.
    “You okay back there?” Sonny asked over her shoulder.
    He answered with a deep chuckle, the rumble cascading down her spine.
    She swayed her hips again. “Just let me know if there’s anything I can help you with.”
    His other hand came around her waist, his fingers locking just above the snap of