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“My dad is in Echo Park. My mom passed away when I was ten.” As soon as the words left my mouth, Elliott reached over and squeezed my hand in support.

“I’m so sorry for your loss,” Malcolm said.

“She was great. I miss her so much. The two of you remind me of my parents…so happy and in love. Even as a kid I could see it.” I shook my head, a little embarrassed when I felt myself tearing up.

“Hey.” Elliott scooted closer to me on the couch, our hands still entwined and our legs resting against one another. He was a tactile person, I’d noticed, and a part of me I hadn’t even known was there wanted to soak that up. “You good?” he asked softly.

“Yep.” I cleared my throat. “Thank you.” Christ, he was really, really sexy. The stubble along his jaw was a little thicker than usual, his lips full and wet from his tongue. None of this would have ever happened if I wasn’t so damn attracted to him, which had gotten me into trouble more times than I could count.

There was a knot in my throat I couldn’t seem to work out. I tried to breathe around it, to swallow it down. Elliott gave me a knowing half-grin and a wink.

When Malcolm gave what was clearly a fake cough, I snapped out of my Elliott-induced lust, and the motherfucker laughed.

“Elliott Delgado Weaver. You be nice to your husband,” Cat said, making it obvious she too knew I’d gotten a little caught up in him and that he was teasing me about it.

“He’s very cocky,” I said because why ignore the elephant in the room?

“You’re supposed to look at each other like that. Just not around us,” Cat teased. “Do you dance?”

“Um…depends on what kind of dancing you’re talking about.”

“He was dancing with the vacuum this morning,” Elliott teased.

“Oh my God. I hate you!”

His mom got up and turned on some music…salsa, maybe? It was Latin with fast beats and numerous instruments.

“I can’t believe Elliott hasn’t taught you to dance. We started when he was young.”

She called him to his feet. The living room was large, with a lot of open space. Elliott didn’t look embarrassed or nervous at all as he and his mother began dancing together, synchronized in choreographed movements. He was good, really fucking good, the two of them dancing and laughing together. When the song ended, Cat held her hand out for Malcolm, who took it, and then the two of them were dancing, much closer than she and Elliott had been.

When my gaze found his, he held out his hand and crooked his finger for me to go to him.

“I can’t do that.”

“I’ll teach you.”

“No.” I shook my head.

“Come here, beautiful, and dance with me.”

Damned if I could stop myself from pushing to my feet.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Elliott

“I don’t know how to do this,” Parker said, stopping in front of me.

“You forget I’ve seen you dance.”

He rolled his eyes. “I don’t mean with a vacuum. Is this salsa? Mambo? I don’t even know, but I can’t do it.”

“I’ve seen you dance in a club too. You definitely have moves, beautiful. I couldn’t keep my eyes off you in Vegas.” It was honest, so why not tell him? The truth was, the main reason I said it was because of the way trembles ran through him, the way his lips parted, his breaths quicker and needier. I liked teasing those reactions from Parker. It was different from flirting with other men. It made my pulse beat harder and a strange joy fill my chest. “I got you. Come here.”

I held his waist and tugged him closer. Parker came easily, his arms wrapping around my neck.

“There’s a lot of hip movement, so follow the beat…and me. We’ll start there, purely for reasons that aren’t selfish, I swear.”

Parker shook his head. He didn’t want to like my teasing and flirting, but I could tell he did. And I enjoyed making him smile or blush, even liked being the one to make him roll his eyes.

I moved against him, holding his hips. Parker did the same, with a little more sway and less smoothly than me, but it was enough to make my dick take notice. Down, boy. As much as I wanted him, in the living room with my parents wasn’t the place for it.

“There you go. Just like that. Mmm, check you out. You’re a natural.” That made him do better, work harder, circle his hips more and thrust against me in a way the dancing didn’t call for but I liked. I dropped my head so my mouth was close to his ear. “Good boys get their husband’s dick hard, but maybe wait till later for that…”

He tensed, gritting out, “I’m not trying to. I’m in the same boat here. You’re the one who started this.”

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