Bianca Covington is the type of woman who could steal a man's soul and then destroy his existence when she’s done. If I had any sense, I’d stay far away. She stops moving, that gorgeous smile falling off her lips as thunder booms above us. “Please.” Like a moth to a flame, I find myself moving closer, drawn to this frustrating—yet fascinating paradox of a girl I have no business fooling around with. I grip her waist. “I don’t dance.” But I do…for her.
