Then the three dots appear.
DK: Middle of the crowd. Densest part.
A slow pulse beats between my legs.I only meant to tease him. But?—
Me: What about Neo?
DK: He’s occupied.
Me: We’ll be seen.
DK: I won’t let that happen.
No bravado. Just a promise.
I lift my gaze. Stage lights flaring outward. Bodies pressed together, packed tight in the center. Shapes of people, no detail. Hands raised. Chants loud. The crowd zeroed in on Chaz’s entrance. He headlines every year, and he’s the fan favorite.
DK’s right. That’s the perfect spot to disappear.
Me: OK.
DK: Be wet and ready for me.
Me: I already am.
DK: Dammmn
His reaction only makes me hotter. I check in with my team one more time to confirm I’m not needed. Then, with my heart racing because I’m actually doing this, I tuck the staff lanyard into my pocket and weave between bodies. The closer I get to the center, the denser it gets. Sweat, perfume, and humidity hang thick like smog. I scan my immediate circle and don’t recognize anyone I know. The event draws people from other townships, Chicago, and beyond, so that’s not surprising. I just wanted to be extra sure.
Me: Here.
I text him and hit send. No doubts now. Just excitement.
Chaz steps onto the stage, and the crowd erupts. He flashes that dimpled grin and takes the stool behind the mic. “Any D’Angelo fans?”
The roar is deafening.
“That’s what I’m talking about.” He throws a peace sign toward the sky, lifts his guitar, and strums the first sensual notes ofHow Does It Feel. The kind of song that sinks into your bloodstream. Halfway through the second verse, my phone buzzes.
DK: Don’t turn around.
I feel him before he even touches me. A shift in the air. His unmistakable presence at my back. The space between us disappears, and a shiver slides down my spine.
The bass drops heavier. The crowd presses in. Someone bumps my shoulder. DK’s hand settles at my waist. Steadying to a casual observer, possessive to me.
He doesn’t speak, his silence only amping up the anticipation. I try to breathe normally. Then I feel it?—
His fingers trail slowly along my hip, tracing the curve through the lightweight fabric of my dress. The pace is agonizing. But still, he doesn’t hurry.
The song swells. So does my need as those fingertips crawl downward an inch at a time until they reach the hem.
He adjusts his stance behind me, one thigh between both of mine, canting me in place. Taller in wedges, his erection presses into my ass, luring me to grind against him. I feel his groan more than hear it. My passion for him is ferocious. I barely register the forward surge of the crowd as Chaz pushes into the chorus.
DK protects me from the frenzy with the shield of his arms around my waist, keeping me pulled tight against him. The combination of the music, our surroundings, and the heated feel of his body is doing insane things to my already raging libido.
I close my eyes, feeling the desire arc between us, pouring off him in waves and sinking into me until the ache in my core is almost painful.
Maybe sensing I’m reaching the breaking point, or maybe he is, DK drags his palm down to my thigh, hitching the front of the dress up far enough to push his hand between my legs.
