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They reached the door a couple minutes later. They’d had a pleasant conversation, sans references to sex, about their lives since the last time they’d seen each other. She mentioned the bookstore, he told her about his position as a museum curator. All talk of threesomes had been dropped.
But then they walked inside, and before she knew it, they were on the dance floor. Even without benefit of alcohol, she liked to dance. She didn’t do it often, because she had a personal preference not to look like an uncoordinated Amazon. But here she could be anyone she wanted to be and no one would notice or care.
Paul, she discovered, had progressed way beyond the jerky rendition of the electric slide he’d performed the one and only time she’d ventured to a club with him during college.
Now he had moves. Smooth, sensuous moves.
He danced close as his hands slid down her arms. “Almost as good as sex,” he said, lowering his mouth to hers though he hadn’t moved to kiss her.
Thank God. Enough parts of their bodies were making out already.
She wore one of the two dresses she’d bought today. Short, black and backless, it revealed the requisite amount of skin, which made her feel entirely too exposed when the hands on her body weren’t Spencer’s. Especially when those hands were now on her shoulder blades, on her bare skin, and she wasn’t shaking them off.
Paul’s head dipped toward hers as he picked up the pace. The expression in his eyes was hard to read in this light. One thing that wasn’t hard to notice, however, was the sizable erection digging into her belly.
To avoid having to tell him no again, Kelly whirled around and linked her arms around his neck. She swayed against him but her mind was working way too fast for her to lose herself in the dance. His arms came around her waist, holding her nice and snug while the heat between them climbed exponentially.
Spencer, where the fuck are you?
All around them couples were in the same sorts of clinches and she was willing to bet none of the women were missing a man who hadn’t bothered to show up.
She tried to tell herself he was busy. The lure of work was one she understood well. But he knew what kind of place this was, and he’d picked the damn time.
Did hewanther to hook up with some other guy? Maybe that had been his twisted agenda all along. He’d stepped between her and Gary, but he’d invited Dan to join them, hadn’t he? For all she knew, he’d set up their meeting tonight as a test.
If so, she had a feeling she was about to fail.
She still hadn’t called him. So what did that say about her? Did some part of her want him to find her with Paul?
A wave of longing swept between her thighs at the memory of the other night. The look on Spencer’s face when Dan had been touching her, when he’d been fucking her breasts…
Yeah, she wanted him to find her. More than anything, she wanted him to watch, however far things went. She’d never guessed she’d be into performing for a man—or in this case, a crowd—but knowing how turned-on it made him turned her on just as much. She just plain liked being the center of attention for once. Not all the time, but right now she was having fun.
Was that wrong?
It wasn’t cheating, not if her guy was okay with it. And he wasn’t even technically her guy, so where was the harm? She knew how she felt about Spencer, and no orgasm given or received from another man would change that.
“Looks like your guy’s not here.” Paul’s breath felt warm and silky against her neck. “And I am.”
Perhaps she should cut her losses and enjoy Paul. After all, a man in the bush beat one who’d gotten lost in the forest any day.
She closed her eyes. Why couldn’t tonight be like the other night, when Spencer had shown up at the perfect time? She was enjoying herself, or she would be if she weren’t so tied up in knots about what was right and wrong. Nothing that had happened or would happen was to make Spencer jealous. It was just a natural response to a man she liked who found her attractive.
It wasn’t as if she had a claim on Spencer, or vice versa. Most likely, she never would. Even if she spilled her heart at his feet like so much red goo, he’d step over the mess and keep right on going.
Maybe sleeping with Paul was exactly what she needed to forget that for a little while.
Forget?Yeah, right. And maybe she was kidding herself.
“I take that back. I think your guy’s here.” A soft chuckle ruffled her hair. “Either that or I’m getting a death stare from some random stranger.”
Her heart leapt against her breastbone. She almost imagined she could smell his crisp aftershave over the mix of leather, smoke and sweat that filled the room. But she didn’t look. That was part of the thrill.
“Describe him,” she murmured, hoping Paul heard her.
“Hard to see details, but he’s clean-cut. Well-dressed. Doesn’t look like he belongs here. He’s watching you.”
Her pulse spiked. “Keep dancing.”
