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‘Thanks.’ He runs a hand through his already dishevelled hair. ‘So, no picturing people in their underwear. What’s the actual fix then?’
‘Dancing.’
Cameron laughs right up until Jules steals his palm cards from him. ‘That was the serious suggestion.’
All mirth drops off his face. The panic is adorable.
‘Dancing is—You want me to dance?’ He sounds like she’s asked him to walk backwards over hot coals.
Jules nods, bouncing a little on the balls of her feet. ‘Yes. It’ll loosen you right up.’
‘But I can’t get up in front of everyone and dance.’ His voice is strained.
‘Why not?’
‘Because I’m here in a professional capacity, and aside from that—’
Jules bumps her shoulder against his chest. ‘Another joke, sorry. Couldn’t resist.’
Cameron groans and runs his hands through his hair. ‘So I don’t need to dance?’
‘Oh no, we’re still going to dance.’
She shimmies over to the desk to put his palm cards away, then dances her way back over to him. The look of terror is still on his face, and he stands stiff as a flagpole. ‘Then tomorrow you can listen to whatever song we use now and your body will remember how it felt. Which should be relaxed,’ Jules adds, grabbing Cameron’s hands and putting them onto her hips which she sways from side to side. ‘It’s a pretty cool technique actually. Haven’t got quite the timeframe to repeat it as much as you should, but I think it’ll help.’
‘Jules. I’m not sure …’
‘Do you trust me?’ Jules lays her hands lightly on Cameron’s forearms, encouraging him into a gentle twist. She keeps moving her hips while Cameron thinks, a furrow on his brow.
The silence stretches a little long for her comfort, but with her hands on him and his on her, she’s not complaining. It’s not exactly how she imagined dancing with Cameron—not that it’s been one of her most prominent fantasies—but it’s still nice being so close to him, getting to see the little vulnerabilities beneath his cool, calm and collected exterior.
‘I trust you,’ he eventually says, stepping in closer until their hips are an inch apart.
‘Perfect. Do you dance?’ Jules moves her hands up behind Cameron’s neck, her fingers playing with the ends of his hair.
‘I had to learn a waltz for Carrie’s wedding.’
Cameron shifts without warning, taking her right hand off his neck and extending it out to the side, while his other hand shifts up to her waist.
Jules loses her footing but Cameron snaps her body up against his, causing a rush of air to puff out between her parted lips, and a pleasant zing to shoot down from her nipples to her toes.
Cameron smiles at her and Jules gets waylaid thinking about dancing him over to the bed. Her toes curl but she bats away the thought. He helped her this morning, now she’s helping him. With his speech, not with an orgasm.
‘Not this kind of dancing,’ she says. ‘I meant the kind of dancing you do after half a bottle of wine to an 80s playlist.’
‘I haven’t done that in years.’
‘What?!’ Jules pulls herself away from Cameron and goes for her phone, bringing up her pump-up playlist. ‘Well, we’re changing that right now.’
‘I don’t have a bottle of wine on me.’
‘You’ll have to work harder to let go of your inhibitions then.’
She hits play and drops the phone to the table. Synth chords sound out in the room and Jules starts banging her head along with the beat, raising her arm in the air waiting for the beat to drop.
Cameron watches her, back to being stiff as a flagpole. Jules skips over to him, picking up his hands and spinning him in a circle with her as the first verse kicks in.
Jules drags him all the way through the first verse, but his body stays tense. ‘Let go, Cameron.’
