The song playing over the speakers is too fast and too upbeat to get down and dirty to, and there’s a fair amount of space between Damon and his dance partner compared to the people around them, but that doesn’t make me feel any better as I watch them.
Damon is an incredible dancer, and he’s poetry in motion as he moves sinuously to the music.
My eyes roam over his long, lean muscles, and heat pools in my balls as my dick thickens.
He’s not overly big, but he’s lean and solid. His wide shoulders and thick thighs emphasize his slender waist, and hisass is incredible. It’s full and round, and more of that heat curls in my stomach as my gaze lingers on his backside.
I’ve never looked at another guy’s body and felt even a hint of attraction, but there’s no denying that Damon’s very male body turns me on.
Memories of a hot mouth and powerful hands tug at my consciousness, and before I can think about what I’m doing, I step out of the shadows.
Almost as if he senses me, Damon’s head turns, and I feel his eyes lock on me. His movements become less graceful, and he loses the beat a few times, but he doesn’t look away as I stand there, letting him look back at me.
The girl he’s dancing with presses closer to him, obviously trying to get his attention. He turns his face toward her, and I slip back into the shadows in the brief moment he’s looking away.
Dark amusement moves through me, chasing away the sour displeasure from before, when he does a double take as he looks back at where I was standing.
If not prey, why prey shaped?
I chuckle to myself and weave through the crowd, using the dancers around me as cover as I cross the room and stand against the far wall.
I watch as Damon keeps looking over to where I was standing and wait patiently as he looks around, like he’s searching the entire room for me.
His dance partner presses right up against him, drawing his attention away from his search and back to her. Not missing a beat of the song, he spins her around so her back is to him and pulls her against his body.
A flare of something dark and angry tugs at my chest, but it’s extinguished a moment later when Damon lifts his head and looks in my direction.
I’m not hidden in the shadows this time, and I stay still as his gaze once again seems to lock on me.
His movements falter a bit as he loses the beat, but he recovers before his dance partner can notice his distraction.
We stay like that for a full twenty seconds, just staring at each other while he dances and I let him look at me.
I can’t see his face, so I have no idea what he’s thinking or if he recognizes me, but he knows someone is watching him. He knows, and he’s still not afraid.
The music changes to a sultry R&B song from the ’90s that’s been heavily remixed, and Damon steps away from his dance partner.
Still keeping him in my sight, I retreat to the shadows while he’s distracted.
He leans in and says something to her, then starts to walk away as she spins on her heel and heads off into the crowd.
He’s only made a few steps when another girl, one I recognize, grabs his arm and pulls him to a stop.
He’s closer now, and I can just make out his expression as he leans in as she says something, then he smiles at her as he nods.
A flash of what I can only describe as possession bubbles up in my chest as Becca moves right into his personal space and drapes her arms over his shoulders.
Damon loosely holds her around the waist as they dance together, and I zero in on the smooth sway of his hips and the graceful arch of his back as he moves, completely ignoring the gorgeous girl in his arms and the barely there white bodycon dress she’s wearing.
Almost as if my feet are moving of their own volition, I walk forward, stopping when I’m just inside the throng of dancers. I’m close enough to see glints of the silver jewelry he’s wearing in his lip and nose piercings, and a prism of colors radiating off his crystal earrings every time the light catches them.
Slowly, like he senses me watching him, Damon turns his head and looks at me. I still can’t see his eyes, but Iknowhe’s looking right at me by how he misses the beat and struggles for a moment to catch it again.
Taking slow, deliberate steps, I walk through the sparse crowd. His head follows my every move, and I pause when I’m in his line of sight and about a dozen paces from where he’s dancing.
I can see him better now, and the silver chain necklace he’s wearing flashes in the light, drawing my attention to the edges of his tattoo peeking out from the open neckline of his shirt.
The lights around us suddenly go out, then the room starts glowing purple as the black lights come on.
