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He curled his hand around hers and gently brought her right up against his chest and oh my God, that felt so good. He felt good and smelled good. It was utterly natural to rest her head against that broad shoulder, close her eyes, and just relax against him. No need to think of any fancy steps.
She didn’t have to think, she didn’t have to do anything but sway and breathe. Her body was taking care of her, drinking him in.
Raul bent his head down to her, speaking directly into her ear. His breath against her ear gave her goosebumps. “Not much of a dancer, sorry.”
Emma smiled against his chest. “They should take away your Hispanic last name and call you Jones. The Dance Police should just cart you away.”
There was a deep rumble in his chest it took her a moment to recognize as laughter. “You have no idea. My sisters and female cousins make fun of me. No one wants to dance with me at weddings and quinceañeras. It’s one of the tragedies of my life.”
How could any woman not want to dance with Raul? Never mind the boring things their feet were doing. Above the ankles, it was sheer heaven. Her legs brushing his, chest to chest. Holding one hand, the other around her waist. Basically, she was in Raul’s embrace.
Maybe the two-step was underrated? Because it was lulling, like being rocked to sleep. Except sleep was the furthest thing from her mind, even though her eyes were half closed. The two step was basically swaying, back and forth. She felt him against every inch of the front of her body. Like being pressed against a warm wall. Except one part wasn’t a wall. With every movement, their hips met and he was becoming aroused. He wasn’t obnoxious about it, not pressing against her in any way. It was just so natural, feeling him swell and start to rise.
Because, well, she was feeling aroused too, only in a way that wasn’t obvious. Her entire body had turned into an erogenous zone, her breasts and sex glowing with heat. The only place where their skin touched was her hand in his, everywhere else was covered with clothes.
But her body didn’t care. Her skin prickled all over and she was filled with heat, like a bonfire had been lit inside her. With her face pressed against his shoulder, she could barely see the rest of Heaven, and didn’t care. More people had come onto the dance floor and she had a vague impression of crowds now. Buzzing noises of voices came to her dimly. She herself was in a cocoon of intense pleasure and heat, in Raul’s arms, gently moving to a beat she was barely aware of. Her entire world was Raul, her senses weren’t sending her messages from the outside world, they were sending her messages from Raul. His strong steady heartbeat against the ear pressed to his chest was louder than the music. His scent – soap and somehow leather – was stronger than the scent of bar food and liquor. Somehow, he’d brought her even closer to him, and he rested his cheek against the top of her head, completing the Raul Force Field.
Was dancing supposed to be like this? Why hadn’t she known? All those dance classes and it had all been in her head and her feet. Memorizing the moves, counting steps. Her partner had been secondary in all this. Now it was all her partner, who was turning her on, making her feel so alive, while moving slowly.
The music stopped but they continued their slow shuffle. After a moment, Emma lifted her head. They were almost alone on the dance floor, people in a circle looking at them like the dorks they were.
A sultry tango started up and she looked up hopefully at Raul, hips already moving to the beat. A tango with him would be really sexy. He smiled down at her and oh God, he was so sinfully handsome at this moment. The lock of black hair falling over his forehead, dark eyes dancing, firm mouth lifted up at one corner. He brought their clasped hands to her face and stroked her cheek.
“Sorry honey, the tango’s too –”
The words were lost. Emma was ripped from his arms by a smiling, horsey-faced guy dressed in blinding white, with gelled bleached white hair.
“You should be ashamed of dancing like that with this fine woman,” the guy said, laughing, and swept her into his arms.
And just like that, she was in the tango.
6
Raul was sorry to see Emma go. He immediately missed her warmth and softness in his arms. But he’d been well on his way to a full woodie, on a dance floor, no less, so maybe it was for the best. Not having her plastered to the front of his body was a loss, but life was full of them.
Plus, he got a front row seat to Emma dancing the tango andman. He wouldn’t miss this for the world.
She was a natural.
The guy who grabbed her was a little odd-looking, but you forgot that immediately once he started moving. And Emma … wow. Just fucking wow.
The music was all instrumentals at first, the tune vaguely familiar. Emma and the guy somehow fell into this instinctive thing, circling around each other as if they’d known each other forever. Movements sinuous, echoing. Tango had a whole vocabulary to it. His second cousin Jorge, who fancied himself a ladies’ man, had tried to explain it to him once, with thesacadasand theochosand thegiros, but Raul lost interest after about a minute. If you had to learn something physically complex, well then shooting fit the bill. Raul was really good with guns. That was enough for him.
But watching Weird Guy and Emma, well. Maybe there was something to it. They couldn’t possibly have worked out the moves beforehand but they moved in instant sync, just like in the Teams, where if you zigged, your teammate zagged. Only his teammates weren’t as pretty to watch as Emma and the guy.
The steps were complex and perfect, and perfectly in time with the music. How the fuck did theydothat?
And then a woman started singing the song and Raul laughed out loud.I Bust the Windows Out Your Car.A song that had been imprinted on him at the age of nineteen when a casual girlfriend who mistook his signals actually broke the windows of his ancient Fairlane he’d bought with high school graduation money.
Emma heard him laugh, looked over her shoulder and smiled at him. While executing some ridiculously complex steps. He was frozen solid to the spot as she twisted and twirled and let the music run through her while he felt a wave of desire so strong it nearly brought him to his knees.
He wasn’t the only one watching. The other dancers had moved to the periphery of the floor and most had stopped dancing to watch two masters at work. It was like the ceiling opened up and a huge spotlight lit Emma, a star so bright he couldn’t see anything else. Just Emma, an incandescent woman moving to the music, moving with the music. Shewasthe music and she was so desirable he could barely breathe for wanting her.
The two were twirling, using everything in their bodies—arms, legs, head, chest--the steps becoming incredibly fast. Emma hooked her leg around her partner’s leg – there was a word for that but Raul was so blasted with lust he could barely remember his own name – and flung her slender pale arms in the air, arching backwards, the guy’s arm around her waist for balance. For as long as he lived, Raul would never forget the picture she made, pale skin, red hair, body flung out in abandon and he had a sudden image of how she’d look during sex.
It bloomed in his mind—Emma under him, in bed. Arms flung up over her head, eyes closed, coming around him, buried deep inside her.
Fuck!Now he had a massive hard-on. In public. Shit shitshit!The last time that had happened to him was when he was seventeen and Mary Knudson bent down in class and he saw her nipples. But he wasn’t seventeen now, he was thirty-four, and used to controlling his dick. Men didn’t have woodies in public, they saved it for when they were alone with the woman.
