I have no idea what I’m doing. I’m dancing in a night club and I can’t stop, that’s what. I’m surrounded by other dancers, the music is so loud that I can’t hear myself think, and I don’t mind Nico watching me like he wants to see me take my silver dress off like some stripper.
He’s leaning against one of the tall tables surrounding the dance floor, holding a tumbler of scotch, the design in the crystal catching and cutting the strobing lights sharply. But not as sharply as his eyes are sharp. Raw primal need—a predator’s hunger—is in them. And it’s all for me. He wants to ravage me. And I wouldn’t mind that at all.
What is wrong with me?
Even though that thought sounds loud and clear in my head, I just let it ring out.
I stop dancing and walk to him, realizing it’s not uncomfortable to walk in the heels anymore. Probably because I can’t feel my feet, but that works too.
“You didn’t tell me you could dance like that,” he says as I stand in front of him.
“No?” I say. “Well, now you know.”
I don’t actually dance much. Hardly ever. Maybe once or twice when I’m really drunk. Which is no more than once or twice a year, if that. But I did used to love dancing, back when I was much younger. Dance class was the only time I could let go of all my worries and all my shame over what Gael was doing to me and just be. But I stopped dancing when we established the MC and I became the Sarge.
I can’t believe I’ve forgotten how much I loved dancing. And I can’t believe I’m remembering it now when I’ve so successfully not thought about Gael for at least the past two hours.
I take the tumbler from his hands, finish his drink, place it on the table, then take both his hands. “Come on, come dance with me.”
He shakes his head, smiling mischievously. “Oh, no, I don’t dance.”
But he’s letting me pull him to the dance floor regardless.
“And I don’t party,” I counter. “It’s only fair that both of us do something we never do tonight, don’t you think?”
“How can I argue with that?” he says with a wide grin.
As we reach the dance floor, a slower song comes on and he wastes no time in placing his arms around my waist and starts swaying with me to the music, his hips dangerously close to my belly. I’m not quite as tall as him in these heels, but I’m tall enough to not have to crane my neck to look into his eyes.
What the hell am I doing dancing sensuously with a man?
My body wants to freeze, wants to push him away because he’s too close. But my mind is fighting it. Successfully.
So I just follow his lead, sway to the music, lean in closer than I’ve ever willingly leaned against a man. For this song and the next. And the next one after that.
No matter how fast or slow the song is, we’re just holding each other, just standing too close, just opening doors I thought were locked to me forever.
And when he leans down and kisses me, I let him. I return it. I think of nothing else but the sweet taste of whiskey on his lips and the sheer pleasant warmth the touch of them brings to my chest. Thawing stuff. Rearranging stuff in my mind. Even though my body still wants to shove him away.
But the mind is winning. The kiss is winning.
I don’t have to think when I’m with him. I just have to be. I can just let go.
That’s his draw. His pull on me. And I’m sure it can only work late at night when I’ve had too much to drink and did too much dancing. But that’s where we are now. On a night like that.
And I don’t want this night to ever end. Or this kiss.
14
Nico
Kissing her is exactly like that first kiss I ever had that I enjoyed. The one that made me addicted. The one I forgot, because there’s so many other enjoyable things to do with a woman. But it’s all coming back to me.
The magic of the first kiss. The first touch. The anticipation of spending that first night with the person who lights a fire inside you that nothing but endless nights of passion can quench.
Something usually does quench it. Time. Familiarity. Excess. But I don’t want to think about that now.
And I don’t think that’s gonna be the case with this silver goddess I’m currently kissing like there’s no tomorrow.
