Chapter Six
BEA
‘Who was I dancing for?’ The dim lighting crests his head as he nods, bringing out unusual threads of roan and red. ‘That’s an awfully particular question.’
‘I’m told I’m a particular kind of man.’
‘What if I told you I was dancing for myself? Dancing for the joy of simply dancing?’
‘I’d probably nod and say fair enough. Then I’d walk away.’
‘And if I told you I was dancing for you? Imagining my hands as your hands...’ My words trail off sort of seductively. This is mad—so mad. Yet the air is alive between us like static electricity right before a summer storm.
He leans closer still and slips his index finger in the wide neck of my sweater-cum-dress. He begins running it back and forth, from collarbone to shoulder, electrifying my skin. A hundred tiny alarm bells start ringing. Unfortunately, those bells are in my panties rather than in my head.
‘If you told me that, I might be inclined to do this.’
His lashes cast dark shadows against his cheeks right before he slants his mouth over mine perfectly. Because we’re kissing, and it’s so divine. There’s a hint of tongue, testing, and then teasing as his kiss deepens. And when I return the motions, he hums in appreciation, and I feel the deep vibration all the way to my bones.
Before I realise he’s done so, the hand curled at my shoulder has me pushed against the wall.
‘You liked me watching you.’ His mouth is hot against my ear, and God, that husky voice has my knees feeling like rubber.
If I had words, I’d answer him, but I only have halting and rapid breath as his warm lips press against my neck and jaw. His teeth skimming my bare shoulder causes me to moan, and his hand to slide under my woollen dress.
‘You okay there, honey bee?’
Am I okay? I think so. At least, I am if I don’t think about what this means.
He laughs softly, and I ignore the part where I said that out loud.
‘It means I’m fucking hard for you.’ His forearm slides from the wall, taking my hand in his. ‘And I want to know what you liked best. Me watching you, or knowing you made me feel like this.’
‘Oh!’ Such an inadequate exclamation—tiny, really—as compared to the monster he pushes into my palm. My hand in his, my fingers point down to the tips of his shoes, yet my hand doesn’t cover the whole length of his dick. If I let him near me, he’d probably split me in two!
And what’s more, I think I’d let him because my slutty senses are totally tingling.
I change the angle of my hand and tighten my fingers, swallowing hard at the feel of him. Blessed with girthandlengthandstellar kissing skills.
Andhe’s bisexual, it seems. Why is that so hot?
I press harder, and he groans rough and sweet, which makes him hotter still.
‘It’s huge,’ I whisper, awed by the feel of him against my hand.
His smile is part tease and part wolf as, with another groan, he pulses in my hand.
‘It’s good?’ My question hits the air all ragged edges. I inhale and start again. ‘I mean, it’s just so big. I’m not used to...’ I curl my lips in on themselves, refusing to say another word abouthim.The other dick.
‘For the record, hearing that never gets old.’
Is it the darkness of the hallway that makes the moment feel intimate? His lips tremble slightly as though attempting to suppress a smile, his lashes casting dark shadows under his eyes as I contemplate so many things.
His fingers now running the gauntlet of the waist of my lacy panties.
The pound of the beat from the club.
The squeak of the ladies’ bathroom door as it opens and the sound of the women spilling out.
