Only in Vegas by Lindsey Brookes

than hair talk right now. 
    “Do your lips taste as good as your hair smells?”
    Her heart skittered.  “Dance is over.  Here comes our waitress,” Angie blurted out, pulling away.
    He reached out for her and missed.  “Angie?”
    “Sorry, Trey.  Time to order,” she tossed back over her shoulder as she flew off the dance floor toward the safety of their dinner table.
    She watched him from her seat as Trey returned to the table in long, unhurried strides, his eyes holding more than a glint of humor. 
    “I didn’t realize a woman could move so fast in heels,” he told her as he settled back into his seat.
    “You’d be amazed at what we women can do in heels when we put our minds to it.”
    His dark brows lifted.  “That so?” 
    But it was the twitch in the corner of his mouth that told Angie her words hadn’t come out the way she had meant them to.  She grabbed for her menu.  She was supposed to be the one in control here.  It was her plan after all.  Only it wasn’t supposed to start until they got to Vegas. 
    Angie flipped open the menu.  “Let’s see what they have here.  I’m starving.”
    “For food?”
    The menu slipped from her hands, clattering onto the empty bread plate in front of her.  Trey’s deep, rich laughter followed.
    “Come on, Angel.  Sexy is in the way a woman reacts to the things a man says.  You can’t get all flustered over the slightest mention of something sexual.”
    She knew that.  She just couldn’t help it. 
    His smile widened.  “Don’t worry.  It’s nothing a little practice can’t fix.  That’s why I’ve been testing you tonight.”
    Testing her? 
    Shouldn’t that come with some kind of warning like they give on TV?  THIS IS ONLY A TEST.  Disappointment slid through her.  She wanted it to be real.  Wanted him to really want her.
    What had she gotten herself into?  They hadn’t even made it out of Pittsburgh and she was already turning into a big pile of lust induced mush.  Not a good start. 
    “I wasn’t aware we had started the lessons.”
    “No time like the present,” Trey replied, opening his menu with casual air.
    He was right.  Time for her to stop growing weak-kneed over his words and practice being the siren she needed to be to keep a man.
    Angie reached for her water glass with renewed determination.  She could do this.  “Good idea.  The sooner, the better.”
     
    Trey hid his grin behind the list of Today’s Specials .  “I suppose we do have to eat first.”  Angel’s reaction to the sexual innuendoes he had put out to her gave him hope.  She might just back out of this crazy plan of hers yet , he thought with a mental grin.
    He thought too soon.
    This time it was his menu falling onto the table, clattering silverware, as Angel’s bare foot glided unexpectedly up his pant leg.  Heads turned their direction at the commotion, forcing him to smile and act as casual as a man could with a sexy female’s foot stroking his leg beneath his pants.
    “What are you doing?” he asked with a raised brow.  His breath caught as her foot pulled out and then returned to bury itself intimately between his thighs.
    Her brown eyes twinkled with mischief.  “Taking your advice.”  Her reply was followed by a teasing wriggle of her nylon covered toes. 
    Trey forced himself to keep his voice down, even if another part of him was doing the complete opposite.  Thankfully, the linen tablecloth hung low enough to cover Angel’s foot pressed against his telltale arousal. 
    He sat stock still, wondering what had just happened.  One minute he was in control, purposely using an in-your-face type of seduction to make Angel rethink her decision to have him go with her to Vegas.  Suddenly, the shoe was on the other foot.  Or in Angel’s case, not on her foot, which was placed strategically against his crotch. 
    “Funny, but I don’t recall telling you to pretend my groin was a shoe,” he managed, his voice strained.