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Thomas couldn't hold a candle to him on Latin moves, and Marcus knew it well enough that it could be called cheating. But watching Marcus dance Latin, who the hell could possibly care? Marcus was just so easily sensual. . .
When he pulled off those decidedly macho sequences, his expression going all serious and stern, moving around Julie, to all appearances holding her bound to his will, Thomas couldn't even think about dancing. Marcus finished with a quick throw that brought her up against him and slid her down to a resting place on his thigh, his hand low on the small of her back.
Ellen was chuckling. She rose onto her toes and spoke into his ear breathlessly. "I think we're going to have to surrender on that one. " She didn't know the half of it. Trying to take his mind off the desire to get Marcus alone somewhere and rape him, Thomas gave her a mischievous grin. "How about a nice, slow shag then?"
A giggle escaped her at the double entendre. She put her hand to her mouth, embarrassed, but he caught her fingers and whirled her into another dance.
* * * * *
A half hour later, Julie collapsed in a booth and accepted the rum and Coke Marcus brought her. He sat down next to her, knee bumping hers companionably. "Wow," she said. "I haven't danced like that in forever. And look at them - still going. Oh Lord, the Macarena. If they burst into YMCA, I'll have to go back out there. "
"It's a provincial gay dance club, dearest. Count on it. " Marcus gave her a smile, tapped his Shiraz against her glass.
"So. " She cocked her head. "You're even deeper gone over him than you were before he left. That must suck. "
Marcus lifted a shoulder. "Relationships move on. I'm glad he at least wanted to visit. Ah. . . Christ. You little bitch. " He stopped, squirmed, stuck his hand down his shirt to grapple with the ice cube she'd dropped down the front of it.
"God only knows what's been done in the shadows of this booth, probably ten times already tonight," she said dryly. "I don't want to be up to my knees in bullshit as well. "
Marcus lunged at her, ice cube in hand. Shrieking, she knocked it out of his
grasp and sent it skittering over to the next table, earning a startled look from the group of men there.
"Straight girl. " Marcus waved apologetically. "Loss of motor control due to all the unavailable testosterone in the room. "
Satisfied, they went back to their conversation. He narrowed his gaze at her.
"Revenge is best served cold, anyway. No pun intended. "
She smacked him in the arm. "Asshole. "
"Busybody. "
"So why not just chain him in your secret dungeon room this time? Surround him with canvases, take away his clothes?"
"Are you trying to turn me on?"
"When it comes to Thomas, it doesn't take much. It never has. Being around you two is like being around an erotic film fest, all that barely suppressed sexual heat. I've burned out vibrators in one night after hanging out with you two for an hour. "
"There's a visual I'm not sure I needed. "
"Oh, shut up. " Julie settled back, laying her head on Marcus' shoulder and subsided, sipping her drink.
"You really need to get yourself a man and stop being such a fag hag. " He made his tone light, teasing, but she rolled her head around and looked up at him, brushing his chin briefly with her fingers.
"You know that night, why I never tried to get you to make it an annual event, like any sane woman would have? Hell, weekly. It's the way the two of you did it. So in concert, as if reading each other's thoughts. Then the way you looked at one another. If you don't have that, and you really want it, then it's too hard to be around bare naked displays of it too often - no pun intended. "
She smiled. "That vibrator's the best lover for me right now. I haven't even gotten close enough to the real thing to have my heart broken, not really. The guys who hurt me, they hurt me because they didn't love me. When your heart's broken by someone who loves you back, that's the only heartbreak that's worth the risk. There's always a chance it will come back to you even after the heartbreak. If I can't have even a chance at that, I'll settle for something I know up front is fake. " Marcus wasn't sure what to say to that. He watched Thomas try a new step with Ellen. She was the instructor this time. She laughed as he took the step, made it his own and gave it a little more panache.
"Sometimes I think when he walks out, that'll be it. I'll just. . . break. Never pull it back together again. It's like somehow he crawled in and replaced all the shit I'd been using as glue, and now. . . " Marcus stopped, realizing he'd never spoken such thoughts before. He'd barely acknowledged them in his own head. He shook his head. "Never mind. "
"Marcus. " Julie put her hand over his, her face reflecting her surprise. He pulled away from her touch, ostensibly to pick up his wine. "You aren't giving up, are you?" Wistful piano notes and a sax accompaniment introduced Aretha Franklin's Ain't No Way. Her poignant opening line, about loving someone who wouldn't let her give him everything that she was, filled the club. The song was so powerful a stillness spread into every corner, pushing the fast dancers to the shadows and bringing lovers to the floor.
Marcus shook his head. "Hell, no. " He downed the rest of a whiskey he'd bought to chase the Shiraz. Rising, he offered her a hand. "Help me go do a partner switch. I don't want to cut in on Ellen and leave her hanging. "
Ellen had looked uncertain when the slow song started, but Thomas drew her into his arms and was doing a slow mix of waltz and two-step movements with her, holding her as she relaxed in his arms. The music was far too loud for talking, so she'd just put her head on his shoulder and swayed with him. To make her smile he'd been making short comments in her ear about the other dancers.
He'd noticed her wedding ring. Though it was on her left hand, the way she touched it so often, as if for reassurance, he was willing to bet she hadn't lost her husband to divorce.
