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Her breathing ceased when he cradled her face with his hands, and slowly rubbed, back and forth. So achingly so, that it was hard to breathe. She gazed into his eyes, unable to look away even though it made her squirm. Part of her wanted to run, but the other part was nailed to the floor. Couldn't move if a tornado swept the house away. 


She felt as though she was in a beautiful, wicked, and  seductive dream.


And she didn't want to wake up.


"You're so beautiful, Annabelle." His eyes darkened as he caressed her cheeks between his palms, which felt warm like  a potbelly stove on a frosty morning from his touch. Good grief if standing this close to him with clothes on, she could only imagine if they were naked. Goodness, but it had been a long time since she'd been thoroughly kissed.  

"Would you like to dance?" she asked.


He raised his eyebrows, then held out his hand. "Sure, I'd love to."


The moment he wrapped his arms around her, she easily fit into his embrace. Neither one said a word, as the sensual lyrics about making love flooded the air, growing out everything else around them.  Her breath caught in her throat, as his hand caressed the small of her back. Then damned near stopped, as he maintained eye contact, took her hand, and gently rested it against his chest, folding his own over hers. 


Charlie couldn't break eye contact if she tried.