I’m so entrapped in his performance, slowly inching closer, that I don’t recognize the heat at my side matching my steps until she speaks.
“Please tell me that’s him.”
I jolt, spell broken, and jerk my head to the side so fast, the room spins.
“Wh-what?” I gulp and meet Sarra’s heated gaze.
“If that’s him …whew.” She fans herself, dark lips spread into a huge grin. “He’s a cutie.”
My throat sticks on another swallow.
“Y-yeah,” I managed to rasp out, though I know deep down I’m agreeing to both statements and she pats my chest.
“Then don’t look now, boo, but he’s watchingyou.”
CHAPTER 12: MARLO
He’s here.
Holy shit, Lennix ishere. In my crowd. Next to my stage. And looking up at me like he’s about to fucking bust.
A nut or into tears, I can’t tell, butfuckI’m so glad to see him that I feel the same way.
I’m so amped that I cut the dance short and drop to my knees to climb off the stage.
It’s against policy to, and I’ve abandoned the few bills that were thrown my way during the show, but I can’t fucking help it.
I need to see him. To touch him again.
“You found me,” I say through my smile once I reach him, the crowd splitting to give us room.
He nods, though his eyes dance with possibility and fear all at once, his dark brows tipped up softly.
“Give me your phone,” I demand, probably too harshly, but his lips spread into a secret smile.
Putting my contact into his list feels like coming home after a long day, but opening the camera app and reaching high to snap a pic of us while his hand finds and squeezes my waist is even better.
“Jesus Christ,” the woman to his left mumbles, dark nails fanning her flushed face. “The fucking chemistry between you two …”
Lennix’s face flushes so deep, I can see it through the dim lighting of the crowd.
“Hi,” I say through my grin and offer her my hand to shake, which she takes almost instantly. “I’m Marlo.”
Saying my real name while in this mode feels weird but anything short of the truth to her feels even weirder.
“I’m Sarra—the bestie.”
A piece of me unclenches and I nod, though I can’t help the flush that clings to my skin at how close Lennix has stayed. His hand is still on my hip and his arm is warm across my back, the tip of his finger dipping below the string holding my thong up.
It feels teasing and claiming all in one.
I fucking love it.
Maybe a little too much when I feel a draft along my growing shaft.
Oopsies.
Smirking, I turn to the still silent Lennix to find his heated gaze already mapping out my face and hand his phone back.
