Watching her dance is like foreplay, teasing and stimulating while leaving you desiring for more. I’ve always found the club scene a provocative hot box of lust and desire. Dancing with Ava beats that tenfold.
By the time we reach the middle of the dancefloor, the song is halfway through. I place Ava onto her feet and circle my arms around her, protecting her from the mass of people surrounding us. I may have failed at protecting her last time, but that will never happen again.
Her chest expands with every deep breath she takes. She looks clearly worried. Staring into my wild, heavily dilated eyes, the concern on her face vanishes. The pounding of my heart increases when she flashes her killer smile before she starts ponying on the spot. Although she follows similar dance moves as she did last week, she adds an edge of seductiveness to it, sparking my dick to harden.
When it reaches the part of the song requiring her to bend over and flick her knee, she spins in my protective circle and attaches her backside firmly onto my crotch. Even with the hum of the vast gathering of people around us, and the blaring music, I don’t miss the hiss that seeps from her lips when she brushes past the thickening of my cock. She braces her hands on my legs, digging her nails into my tense muscles as she bows forward and grinds herself against my crotch.
When she straightens her spine, her hair flicks my chin from my abrupt movements, engulfing me with her sweet smell. I find it amusing that someone who is a dentist smells so sweet. Ava’s lips taste like candy apples, and her smell is even sweeter.
I grip the curve of her hips and swing mine, swaying to the beat of the new song playing. Ava dances around me, staying within the invisible safety bubble I’ve formed around us. Over time, the mass gathering of bodies in the small space soon has my body temp rising.
Sweat glistens on my skin, and my throat is parched from spending the past hour dancing. A new type of thirst awakens in me when Ava pivots around to face me. Her cheeks are flushed, and her nape is dripping with sweat, giving her the alluring look of someone who is sexually sated. She runs her tongue along the seam of her mouth as her smoky gaze lifts to mine.
No longer able to inhibit the desire of tasting her lips again, I tilt down and enclose my mouth over hers. Her husky moan fans my lips with the scent of strawberry lip gloss. I groan as her delicious flavor hits my taste buds. Her mouth has the intoxicating mix of the sweetness of candy mingled with the fruity cocktails she has been drinking.
I cup the curves of her ass, yanking her close to me, not leaving an ounce of air between us. Fisting her hair, I tilt her head back, demanding control of her mouth. A shuddering moan rumbles through my lips when she gives me complete control without a single protest.
I kiss her violently, stealing every little moan whimpering from her mouth, and making up for the years we missed. For the past two years, my mom has regularly said, “One day the right woman will knock you on your ass.” Little did she know, she already did.
Catcalls pelt through my ears when Ava lifts her legs and wraps them around my waist. A hiss of air whizzes from my lips when she rubs her warm pussy against the hard-on my jeans is failing to conceal. Taunts about “getting a room” and “give it to her” continue when I pace through the horde of writhing bodies grooving in the middle of the dance floor with Ava still wrapped around my waist.
When we enter the quietness of the corridor, Ava pulls her lips away from mine. Her eyes shift around the space, gathering her surroundings. Still striding, I pace to the office at the end of the hall. When we enter, Ava’s eyes dance around the office with eagerness. Once she has absorbed the space, I place her onto her feet.
Pulling a strand of hair off her sweat-drenched neck, I tuck it behind her ear, ignoring the tremor that has encroached my hands. My heart is beating fitfully in my chest and my palms are sweating. I’m the most nervous I’ve ever been.
I cough, clearing the frog in my throat. “Did you want to go out?” I ask.
Fuck, that sounded nothing like I’d envisioned in my head.
“To the movies or something?” I blurt out, trying to save myself from an embarrassing situation.
Eighteen
Ava
When Hugo asks me out, my eyes zoom to his, certain I didn’t hear him right. When he finalizes his question, I inwardly sigh. I thought my every dream was about to be fulfilled. Hugo curses softly under his breath while running his shaky hand over the top of his head. I remain quiet and study his posture.
A nervous twitch is hampering his jawline; his brows are furrowed, grooving a deep line between his eyes, and his posture is stiff. He is clearly nervous. I smile. I’ve never seen Hugo nervous before and I find it endearing that asking me out has made him this way. When he mumbles something about not listening to Jorgie’s relationship advice, lucidity forms in my skewed brain.
“Are you asking me out on date, or to be your girlfriend?” I ask, masking my excitement with a neutral tone.
His eyes missile to mine. When he spots the excitement I'm unable to contain, his eyes fire with his regular cheekiness.
“I guess that will depend on what your answer is going to be?” he responds.
“Is there a maybe box?” I’m pretending like I’m not in the midst of a panic attack. I swear if my heart keeps thrashing like it is, it will burst out of my chest cavity.
My insides clench when an angry growl rumbles from Hugo’s chest. “You need time to consider?” Even though he’s asked a question, his eyes say it’s a statement.
I stand on my tippy toes so I can peer into his eyes. “No. But It’s not entirely fair to give a girl a mind-blowing kiss and then expect her to answer a life-altering question.”
He smiles a pussy-clenching smile. “Mind-blowing, hey?” His brows waggle, cockiness oozing out of him.
I shrug my shoulders. “It was okay,” I lie.
That kiss waswaybeyond okay. Fireworks exploding in the sky, I’m going to have nothing but smut dreams for a week is what that kiss was. I can barely stand as my thighs are shaking so much. All playfulness vanishes, and a new type of friskiness develops when Hugo’s fire-sparked eyes glance down at me.
My eyes dance over his face, drinking in every spectacular detail. He truly is a beautiful man. A straight, sculptured nose, plump lips that taste as delicious as they look, and dark, thick luxurious hair that frames his ruggedly handsome face perfectly. The intense pull I’ve always felt tugging between us strengthens, tethering my heart to him even more than it already is as we stand across from each other, staring but not speaking. He cups the edge of my jaw and stares into my longing eyes.
