Page 17 of Dance This Song With Me?

LUCAS

It was one week since our after-lesson dinner at the Thai place with the amazing food.

Now a knot formed in my guts, a nasty ball of tension that ached like an uneasy stomach in a shifting sea.

This was goodbye.

I'd had my six free lessons with Emilio and he'd declared me good enough to dance with any guy, so I should have been happy. I was on track with my plan to get close to that guy I'd been dreaming about for weeks.

Only, lately, when I'd been taking care of myself, it hadn't been that guy who'd come to mind. More and more, it had been thoughts of Emi that had invaded my fantasies, and I'd been powerless to stop them. As a result, I hadn't jacked off for a couple of weeks - since I couldn't do that and then face him at lessons. Consequently, I was now distinctly, desperately, horny. But more than that, I just didn't want to say goodbye.

I liked Emi.

Sure, he'd had made it clear he wasn't looking for a relationship with anyone. 'One and done,' he'd told me. Fair enough. That didn't mean we couldn't have a little fun though, especially as this was our last lesson. After today, I'd have no reason to see him again, but equally it meant there was nothing stopping us from making the most of our last hours together.

Sure, I'd kinda sworn off hookups, but that was mainly from boredom. Emi was anything but boring. He was lively, outgoing, funny, and sexy as fuck. This afternoon's lesson had been no exception, he'd had me in stitches a lot of the time, though I suspected it was in part to get past the awkwardness of the sensual moves I was trying to master. We'd spent the entire lesson so close up in each other's business that I could almost inhale him. The heat of his skin where my arm lay over his, the scent of his cologne mixed with a hint of male sweat, his hot breath on my neck... it wasn't surprising I lost my concentration from time to time. Trodden on toes were the least of our problems.

By the end of the lesson, I was convinced I needed to fuck him, just to get him out of my system. After that, we'd both go back to our regular lives without a backward glance. I had a hot guy to pursue and Emi wasn't interested in repeats anyway. No problem. Except I wasn't 100 percent sure he was interested in following through on his flirting. It had been six weeks and he hadn't made any kind of move. Maybe flirty was just his default setting.

"You're a good follower now," said Emi. He looked hot as fuck running both his hands through his sweaty hair making it look even wilder than usual and triggering a bit of a situation for me down below. "I'd be happy to dance with you if I saw you at a dance."

"Thanks Emi. I really appreciate it."

"So that's the end of our professional relationship, okay? We're done here, right?" Emilio seemed to be closing the door on us. Done with the lessons, done with me.

The knot in my stomach dropped lower, disappointment turning it into lead. The flirting had really just been that, with no serious intent to follow through.

"Oh. Uh, yeah, I guess." My shoulders sagged, but I did my best to muster a smile. It felt fake even to me and I dropped my gaze.

"Hey," Emi's voice had taken on a different timbre... deeper, warmer, more suggestive. My head swung up at the change. A twinkle of mischief highlighted the dark chocolate brown of his eyes making them breathtakingly sexy. The rings he wore in each ear caught the studio lights, twinkling like stars. A smirk tweaked the corner of his mouth, drawing my eyes to his soft, mobile lips. He leaned in closer, his warm breath feathering over my ear sending shivers down my spine.

"So if we aren't teacher and student anymore, that changes everything, right?" One dark eyebrow raised suggestively. "Wanna go for a drink? Or can I just drink you down here?"

Fuck, that was... unexpected. I swallowed. Hard. And yeah, that too. Instant boner.

Emi's smirk widened. Fuck, he knew.

"O-okay, let's go for that drink."

◆◆◆

One drink became two. Became three. We talked less than usual, the weight of what we both knew was going to happen filling the gaps in the conversation.

All my awareness was focused on the heat of Emi's hand where it lay in the small of my back as we left the pub an hour later, slightly buzzed but only enough to take the edge off any nerves. It was that in-between hour - still early, the darkness only just beginning to claim the sky in the east, a golden glow silhouetting the buildings off to the west. A few cars had their headlights on already and the footpath was crowded as offices emptied out for the day and people made their way home.

"Where are we going?" I asked.

"My place. I'm a couple of blocks this way," replied Emilio. A cool space opened up on my back where his hand had been, but even as I registered the loss of his touch, his hand found mine. We'd held hands plenty as part of the lessons, but this was different. This held intent - intent felt in the warmth blossoming between his skin and mine, the rough scratch of the callouses on our palms, the brush of a fingernail against softer skin. A fizzy, happy feeling bubbled up inside me.

I must have looked weird or something because Emilio laughed, a wide open-mouthed laugh full of good humor.

"Come on, guapo, I can't make out if you're terrified or you've seen a ghost. I'm not a serial killer, you know."

"I'm just surprised. I thought you were going to kick me out of the studio today without even a proper goodbye," I protested, "and now this! I wasn't even sure you were into me."

Emilio snorted as if this were stupid.

"I'll give you a proper goodbye, don't worry about it," he grinned, pulling me closer. His chest brushed up against mine. At this distance, the faint yeasty scent of the beer on his breath tickled my nostrils and his dark chocolate eyes looking into mine promised all sorts of unspeakable things. I wanted those things. It was hard to breathe, looking into those intense eyes. I shivered, the pressure in my pants uncomfortable.