“Oh, I’m in the mood. I’ve been wanting to do it properly with you after that class debacle.”
Do it…with you. “Ah, yes. The moment when I decided there was more to your beastliness than met the eye.” I hit play.
He puts one hand on my back and lays his knuckles on my shoulder. As the music starts, the backs of his fingers glide down my arm to my wrist, raising goosebumps.
I make a circle around him. When the music shifts, he pulls me closer, and we’re moving. Now that I’m not in sneakers, it’s so much easier. I can relax in his arms and let him lead me as the soulful voice sings of heartbreak.
“I love dancing when it rains,” I say.
“Why?”
“It’s like creating a little eye of order within chaos. Listen to the sound of the rain. The tempo, the volume—it’s all at the whim of Mother Nature. But dancing is orderly. Structured. It makes me feel anchored.” And Grant feels like a safe haven, except I’m too shy to tell him. So instead, I say, “Actually, I love rain, period.”
“Then why didn’t you go to school in Washington state? It rains all the time there.”
“Because, silly, if I got it all the time, it wouldn’t be special.”
In the glow of the light, I can sense his confusion.
“Why do people think love is special?” I stop for a second, realizing maybe love isn’t the best analogy. But it slipped out, and it’s going to be weird if I try to take it back. “Why do we make thousands of movies and stories and books about it?”
“Because they’re profitable,” he says.
“No. Because love is rare, which makes it special. Some people never even get to experience it before they die.”
“If they never do, how do they know they’re missing anything?”
“I think part of their soul longs for it. They know, deep inside, the other half of their soul is out there.”
He laughs, more surprised than amused. “I didn’t expect this kind of romanticism from a girl who chased me down to the polo field.”
“This girl can be many things.”
He extends his arm, and I spin out, then make a circle around him. His fingertips skim my waist—setting my skin on fire—as I turn on the smooth floor. He catches me, abruptly stopping the motion, then pulls me tightly to him. I can feel his heart pulsing, and we’re so close, our breaths mingle as we stare into each other’s eyes.
He lowers his head until the tip of his nose brushes mine. I tilt my chin closer. He strokes my lips with his tongue like a gentle knock, seeking permission. I open my mouth, let him in, then meet his tongue with mine. He tastes so good, full of raw power and desire. My senses are full of him—the flavor of him, the smell of him and the heat of him.
He explores my mouth, drinking me in. I kiss him back just as eagerly. A tiny, cautious voice whispers I should give this more thought, but a long, hot stroke of his hand from my hip to the side of my breast snuffs it.
He’s the one.
Everywhere he touches tingles. I fumble, unsure how much to touch him—howto touch him so he can feel the same heat I’m feeling. The flesh between my legs throbs. If I were alone, I might relieve the pressure building there, but right now, Grant’s holding me tight and his rigid cock is pressing against my belly. My lungs fight for air, and I feel dizzy with a white-hot need I’ve never experienced before.
“You drive me crazy,” I say, breaking the kiss to draw in more air.
Ragged breaths puff out of Grant. “Turn off the music.”
“It’s going to cut off soon.” The playlist isn’t set to play indefinitely.
“Brace your hands on my shoulders and wrap your legs around me.”
My heart hammering with anticipation, I do as he asks. He puts his hands under my dress, on my bare butt to support me, and carries me up the stairs. One of his fingers slips under the thong strap between my ass cheeks and presses against the opening of my pussy.
Oh my God. I squirm at the shallow dipping in and out of his finger with each step. What I sometimes do with my finger is nothing compared to what he’s doing with his. It’s bigger, thicker and slightly callused. Not to mention it feels incredibly illicit. It sends shivers along my spine, makes my toes curl.
“Jesus, you’re so wet for me.”
His raw words leave me slightly shy, but also excited. He reclaims my lips, and I’m utterly lost as his tongue invades my mouth while his finger pushes deeper.
