How to Rope a Real Man Read Online Free

the day.”
    The dare had her tsk ing good-naturedly. “That’s not what I meant, though I have no doubt that in a dance-off, I’d shine the floor with your ass.”
    Continuing with a basic one-two-three around the floor, he laughed through his nose, his eyes twinkling. “You talk a big game, darlin’. Makes me concerned about what other challenge you think I’ve laid down for you.”
    The song ended and they slowed to a stop on the outer edge of the floor. People moved around them as a new song, a faster song, picked up pace. She traced the edge of his chiseled shoulder muscle below his chambray shirt. This is how it would be between them if they were a couple—smooth and romantic, like the waltz.
    She moved her fingertips from his shoulder to his jaw. “Matt Roenick, one of these days you’re going to tell me all your secrets.”
    He swallowed and his focus dipped to her lips, so she angled them up, parting them, closing her eyes. All he had to do was lower a few inches and she’d finally— finally— know what his mouth felt like on hers. Didn’t matter that they were surrounded by people. She’d waited eight long months for this. Come on, Matt. Kiss me already.

Chapter Two
    Any guy who’d ever thought dancing was unmanly had obviously never danced a waltz with Jenna Sorentino.
    All his childhood years of being forced by his parents to attend cotillion classes, the innumerable dance partners throughout his life who’d stepped on his toes, and too many late nights in loud, smoky country-western bars were all made worth it with the look Jenna gave him when she realized he knew what he was doing.
    It was a breathless look of arousal that sent a surge of lust and machismo pumping thick and fast through his veins. Those same men who thought dancing was for sissies were probably the same ones who thought anything more than a hard, fast fuck was a waste of time. Their loss, his gain, because dancing with Jenna was one of the most erotic forms of foreplay he’d ever experienced.
    Dangerously so. Every swish of her hips and arch of her back led him deeper into wanting. In his hand he held her delicate fingers, which ended in white-tipped nails. He could imagine those nails, those fingers, grazing him all over, wicked and hot. Her skin and hair smelled of honey and almonds, and damn, he wanted to feast on her something fierce.
    He’d never danced a waltz with a hard-on before. Any dance, for that matter. Probably should’ve expected as much tonight; after all, a man didn’t want a woman for as long as he had Jenna without experiencing some sort of visceral reaction the first time he touched her body. And Jenna was, quite simply, the sexiest, most luscious creature he’d ever laid his hands on.
    He should’ve never dared to dance with her.
    But the alternative would’ve been that slick rodeo cowboy taking her for a spin around the floor, and there was no way in hell he was going to watch another man leading her in Matt’s favorite dance while he stood on the sidelines.
    What a crazy, messed-up way of thinking. It didn’t matter how much hot-blooded testosterone pounded through his body when he was dancing with Jenna or how many nights he’d dreamed of holding her, because none of it meant shit when all the chips were down and she was standing there, pressed into him, offering her lips. He may have wanted her worse than he’d ever wanted a woman, but he still wasn’t going to kiss her.
    He didn’t date single moms.
    Not anymore. Not even those who were beautiful and smart and got his engine revving like Jenna did.
    The policy sounded arrogant and callous. Even knowing the reasons behind it, he disgusted himself. Looking down at Jenna’s sweet, rosy lips, he knew he was the most pathetic man in history. But precedence and fear had a way of settling priorities. After everything he’d been through the past eleven years, there were only a handful of things in the world he feared more than single