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I would have tried to make her mine, convinced her this attraction was off the charts… was real.
But she stared right there with me, letting me touch her, and that pleased the fuck out of me. I took a step closer until our chests almost brushed. Her pupils dilated the longer she stared at me, and my damn dick grew hard, insistent, and so fucking needy to feel her pussy clamping down on me that I groaned. I knew she couldn’t hear me, which was a good thing, because it might have scared her off.
I let my arousal take the lead as I pulled her forward until her tight little body pressed against mine. Fuck, she felt good. Even with the noise all around us, I heard her gasp of surprise. The heat that came from her and the way her eyelids fluttered told me she was feeling this just as deeply—badly—as I was. I couldn’t help myself as I leaned closer so our mouths were only separated by an inch, and then I just stared into her eyes.
Without saying anything, I wrapped my hand around her waist and started moving with the music, going slow, more erotic, to the beat. This wasn’t about dancing. It was about feeling her against me.
Flashes of light swept across the dance floor, and despite everyone all around us, we continued to stare into each other’s eyes. The song changed, the DJ switching it up a notch. Couples moved closer together, started fucking each other with their mouths and tongue. I could see that shit in my peripheral, but right now, it was just her and me.
I couldn’t deny the atmosphere, the look and smell of her, and the way she melted against me turned me the fuck on. Who was this woman?
Why was she causing this kind of reaction in me?
My dick was a steel rod between us, pressed tightly against her belly and all but throbbing in time with my pulse. Taking my other hand and sliding it over the small of her back, lifting the hem of her shirt up slightly, my breath quickened as my bare skin touched her.
I wanted her right here and now, wanted to place my claim, mark her, show everyone that I could have her and they couldn’t.
We moved fluidly to the music, and as she turned in my arms, I let my finger skim along her bare skin as her shirt rode up even more. I was sober, but I smelled the beer on her. A part of me wondered if she’d be this free if she weren’t intoxicated.
I wanted her clearheaded when I tasted every inch of her, and I would. That was a fucking guarantee.
“Tell me your name,” I said by her ear, letting my lips brush against the shell, feeling her shiver for me. I skated my fingers along her arms and felt goose bumps on her skin, knew my voice had done that to her. But she didn’t respond, and I was so immersed in the feeling of her moving against me, rocking back and forth, that I didn’t press her for the information.
I don’t know how long we danced, but the songs changed, and still we moved the same. Erotic. Sexual. Ready to fuck.
God, she was perfect, not just in the way she looked but in the way she felt against me, the way she smelled, and all the things I wanted to do with her. It wasn’t just about sex but about getting to know her better, learning what made her tick, what she liked, disliked. I was shocked I wanted to know those things after saying no more than a handful of words to her. But they were real and raw, and I latched onto those emotions like I’d fucking die without them.
But when the song changed, the crowd became more frantic, wild. They pushed and pulled, as if trying to separate us. That seemed abhorrent to me. I had to be with her, had to keep her close. But before I could hold onto her, the people were moving back and forth, dancing, swaying, pushing me farther back.
And as I watched her disappear in the crowd, the only thing that kept playing through my mind was… I won’t let her get away.
Chapter Five
Izzy
We stumbled into the hotel room, giggling, overly loud. Even I could sense we were obnoxious, but I felt good, light and free… alive. My body was still humming, electricity still racing along my arms and legs from that sensual, sexual dance with that stranger.
But just as I was about to be bold and wonton with him, let the alcohol lead the way, suggest we go somewhere quiet and “talk,” get to know each other more, he was gone, skirted away by the crowd as the music turned up and became fast and frantic.
