What the actual?—
I’m about to propel her wrist away when I feel the shape of a finger sneaking into my pocket. I don’t have to look down to know she’s just slipped me a note.
“I feel real awful about your pants.” She goes to dry the cotton with her tissue once more, but this time, her hand doesn’t land; it hovers as though held back by an invisible force field.
“Can you stop fucking touching him?” Electra rumbles, and damn if her little growl doesn’t straighten my shoulders and spine.
Lara eyes her, then me, then finally backs away. “I’m here every Sunday with my BU girls if you ever want a vibe change.” She adds a wink before heading off toward the bar.
“Do you get that a lot?” Electra asks, stare taped to the two girls Lara joins at the bar—new recruits or paid extras to pad her college clubbing story?
“Get groped by overeager women?” I shrug. “It happens. Mostly at work, though. You’d be surprised by how many people don’t make a distinction between a dance coach and an exotic dancer.”
“And you just stand there and take it?”
Annoyance flares beneath my ribs, making my arm drop. “Of course not. The only reason that girl’s hand landed on my thigh is because she caught me by surprise.”
Electra’s lids spasm like she’s jealous. Or maybe, she doesn’t believe me?
“You think I enjoy being groped?” I lift my cap and scrape my fingers through my wayward strands before jamming the hat back in place.
“Don’t know. Don’t really care, though.”
“I think you do.”
“That’s because you’re stuck in the delusion that I’m going to fall for you.”
I step into her body, touching her not with my hands but with my chest and erection. “Not a delusion.”
She could step back or shove me away with her magic, but Electra does neither, allowing me to invade her space.
“You’re relentless.” Her murmur ghosts across my Adam’s apple.
I can’t tell if she means it as a compliment or as an insult. Since she hasn’t pulled away yet, I’m going with theory number one.
The slow beat of the performers trickles down my spine like a warm drip, causing my hips to roll. When I grind against her lower body, her exhale bursts out of her like a gunshot. I lower my head and part my mouth to trap it.
I am so fucking turned on it’s almost painful. I must have a forbidden enemy kink—or whatever the hell they call it in those romance novels she enjoys so much.
I skim her cheek with my mouth, charting a course to her ear. “One chance, Electra. That’s all I want. One real chance.”
Her breathing pattern quickens like the scudding behind her rib cage. Behind mine, too. My palms find her hips. When she doesn’t freeze or growl at me to unhand her, I slide them to her ass and press her close, move her again.
“Your body,” I groan. “It’s my fucking kryptonite.”
Her pupils are blown wide, but so are her lashes. Desire pulses in her stare, but it’s shadowed by such fear that I hold still.
The brave little goddess is scared.
My dick nosedives before I’ve even let go. I may be playing with Electra, but I draw the line at sexually terrifying women.
I tuck a stray lock of hair behind her ear. I wish I could say my touch makes her shiver, but what racks her is an unmistakable shudder. “Do you want to go home?”
She recoils as though I’ve burnt her. “I-I-I…” Her throat moves over a swallow. “No.” She shakes her head. “I don’t want to go home with you, so stop asking. Desperation isn’t attractive.”
“That’s not—” My knuckles pop from how hard I ball my fingers. “I only meant, do you want me to drop you off at your house?”
Her eyelids spasm. “I’ll get myself home.” And then she’s streaking away.
