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Good idea. I counted, “Four, three, two, one…”

This time, we both stepped back. Oof. He wasn’t getting that you didn’t both step forward or back at the same time. If I stepped forward, he stepped back, and vice versa.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Mel cried, running over, as if we’d broken the law of swing dancing. Of course, the other couples stopped to stare.

“When one of you steps forward, the other steps back,” she said very slowly, like we were the class’s remedial students.

But it didn’t help. Poor Mel was defeated in a way I suspected she never had been. To cheer herself up, she turned her back on us and focused on the rest of the class, who were all doing pretty well.

“I guess I suck at this.” His shoulders sagged with defeat, which tugged at my sympathies—he’d been through so much humiliation with the tampon account. I couldn’t bear to see him suffer more.

I lowered my voice to a whisper. “Let’s just sneak out. Mel’s helping that couple over there. She won’t notice ‘til we’re long gone.”

He looked in Mel’s direction. “Okay. We’ll make a break for it.” He grabbed my hand and we flew across the dance floor to the exit. Once we were outside, I burst out laughing. I couldn’t help it.

“You know, maybe swing dancing just isn’t your thing,” I told him.

“Ya think?” he asked, rolling his eyes. “But I know what is my thing.” He moved closer to me until my back was against the brick wall and his eyes were burning into mine. Holy shit.

“What is your thing?” I asked in a breathy voice. My heart was beginning to pound. God, I was a slut. I swallowed as he tilted my head up, and his mouth moved toward mine. The distance between us closed in an instant, and I fell, deliciously lost, into his kiss.

At first, his lips touched mine softly, the kiss growing hotter and deeper until I melted against him with everything I had. Lance had never kissed me like that. Hell, I don’t think anyone ever had.

He pulled back to take his glasses off, stuffing them in a pocket. We returned to our hungry kiss before he stopped to look at me.

“You’re beautiful. Just fucking beautiful.”

I don’t know why, but tears stung my eyes. Thank god it was dark and we were far from the street lamps. I couldn’t have him thinking I was a complete nutjob, so I just looked down and murmured thanks.

Without a word, he waved down a cab and gave the driver his address. We held hands all the way across town, and when we arrived at his place, he turned to me.

“Would you like to spend the night?” he asked.

“I thought you’d never ask.”

Slut, slut slut.

Shut up! Not now.

His apartment about blew my mind. It was in this fantastic old building on Nob Hill with views toward downtown and the beautifully lit up Bay Bridge.

“This place is insane,” I said, doing a three-sixty to take in the entire vista.

He threw his jacket onto the back of a chair and walked over to a cushy velvet sofa where he sat, extending a hand to me. He might have been working freaking hard at the ad agency, but it would seem he was paid pretty well for his efforts.

I approached the edge of the sofa and stood directly in front of him. He wrapped his arms around me and stroked my ass through my skirt. He inhaled deeply, rubbing his face into my silk blouse. He was taking his time, and it was exquisite.

His hands traveled from my ass to the front of my blouse, where he opened its buttons one by one. If he hadn’t started to move a bit faster, I was afraid I might explode.

He pulled my shirt open and sat back, looking at the white lace of my bra, trickling his admiring gaze over my trembling body. The way he looked at me, like I was the most beautiful woman on earth, was so fucking hot, I had to put a hand on his shoulder to steady myself. He stood up and turned me around, unzipping the back of my skirt and pushing it down my hips until it hit the floor in a puddle around my feet. I started to kick off my heels.

“No. Keep them on,” he growled from behind me.

Allrighty then.

I stepped out of my skirt and kicked it aside. My blouse fell off my shoulders, and I was left standing in my bra, lace thong, and heels.

“Turn around,” he said in a quiet voice.

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