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“We’re doing this together whether you like it or not. Stop making it hell, Presley, life is shit enough already. You don’t want to dance, don’t dance, but don’t be a dick to her because of it.” Then he took my hand in his and we left, came to his barn and have been dancing ever since. Nothing weird happened… until now. And I suppose it’s my fault for trying such a move.
“Your dick is huge,” I say before I can stop myself.
His lips stretch into a slow, lazy, arrogant smile. He rolls his hips, grinding against me, and we both groan. “Wanna touch it?”
I wet my lips. “Can I see it?”
His smile fades and his cheeks pink either side of his nose. “Seriously?”
“Yeah.”
“You’ve never seen a dick before?”
“Not properly, no.”
He blinks, surprised. “You’re a virgin?”
I laugh nervously and clear my throat, closing my eyes when he grinds against me again. “I’m not a virgin, I’ve just never explored a man’s body.”
“Well, who am I to deny you such a request?” Then he taps his nose against mine. “On one condition.”
“You want me to kiss you.”
“Exactly. You’re smarter than you look.”
“Fuck you, pretty boy. I look smart.”
He laughs and descends, cheeks still flush with excitement and embarrassment from my request.
When his lips touch mine, I melt into the floor, a puddle of electric goo wanting to be molded back to shape with his hands. He groans, touching his tongue to my own. He tastes minty and sweet, just like last time. His cock between us gets harder and his hands, that I mentally begged to explore my body, start exploring my body.
The one that pinned my right hand slides down my bicep, to the side of my breast, to my waist, and then it curves under me and grips my rear.
I inhale slowly and he groans when he presses even harder against me.
Our lips continue to dance. Much like our bodies, we connect so well with such incredible chemistry.
His lips leave mine after a few more seconds and flutter over my skin, to my neck, shoulder, then back up again.
The music stops, leaving us in silence. All I can hear is the roar of my heartbeat, our heavy breathing mingling, and the shuffle of fabric as our bodies rub together.
He tenses and looks up, then dives off my body faster than I can catch with my eyes.
“Sit up, someone’s coming,” he hisses and the door opens with a groan.
I expected his mom or dad to walk in. I did not expect Presley.
Carter turns away, adjusting himself and turning on the music.
We are so lucky it cut off when it did.
“What are you both doing?” Presley asks.
I wonder if he can see my swollen lips and panic. “We were doing that lift at the end of Dirty Dancing, but Carter fucked it up.”
“Why that lift?”
“Because it’s fun,” I reply, wanting to say, “Duh” to him, but thinking better off it.
“I can do it,” Presley tells me and I snort. “No, seriously. I can do it.”
“Without dropping me on my head?”
“I promise.” There’s a sincerity to his tone that even I believe in. “You have my word, that if we dance together, I won’t be an ass and purposely hurt you.”
I consider it because he’s asking a lot of me right now. But Carter begs me with his eyes to make an effort, so with a sigh I stand and hold out my pinkie finger.
Presley wraps his around it much to my surprise and then Carter takes my other one so he doesn’t feel left out.
I giggle under my breath as I stand with crossed arms facing two teenage guys who are about to start throwing me around like a doll.
“You,” I say to Carter who is looking at me like he wants me alone in his bedroom, stark naked.
Presley isn’t looking at me like anything. He’s just blank.
“Get ready to catch me if he fucks up.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He takes point behind Presley who braces himself as I walk backwards to the far corner of the mat.
“Ready?” I ask Presley, begging him with my eyes to not drop me.
He shakes his hands and nods. “Go.”
I fly at him, my feet hitting the mat, and the second his hands go to my hips, I jump, holding my breath, trying not to scream.
He raises me up and goes back a step for balance. I straighten my legs and spread my arms, expecting to meet the ground at any second, but I don’t. I remain suspended on strong, unwavering arms, palms flat against my hips, fingers curving around my flesh.
“Oh my God,” I squeak.
“Don’t laugh, you’ll shake,” Presley urges, sounding strained.
“We so need to add this to the dance.” Carter walks around us and takes a photo.
“How do I get down?” I ask and Presley slowly starts to lower me towards his head. I tilt my body just so, until I’m sliding down his chest and my feet are on the floor. My body is humming from the excitement… and his body, but I’ll deny the latter. “That was… awesome.”
