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I reapply my lipstick, adjust my hair and hat, which has gone askew after being pressed against the wall, and make a quick exit, hoping to get back out to the showroom in time to cheer for my vampire.
I’m looking toward the stage, not watching where I’m going, when I bump into a man coming out of the adjacent doorway. His arms immediately reach out to stop me from falling, and before he steadies me, I end up with my face pressed against bare pectoral muscles so strong they feel like they could stop a train.
CHAPTERSEVEN
His mouth moves in apology, though I can’t hear him clearly over the vote-by-yelling that’s in full swing.
“I’m sorry. That was my fault,” I say in a near-shout, as I fix my hat again and take in his costume, which is one of the most unusual I’ve seen tonight.
He’s wearing a wild gray and white wig, the hair sticking out in all directions. There are thick steampunk goggles covering his eyes, with lenses so dark that I wonder if he actually can see where he’s going.
A white lab coat completes his mad scientist persona, though it’s completely open, which is why I had the opportunity to make direct contact with his rock solid muscles.
Even though I’m firmly on my feet now, his hands are still on me, holding me in place. Those hands squeeze my arms as a big smile erupts on his painted face, which is made up to look like an invention has exploded on him, streaks of sooty-looking paint splattering across his features, though the makeup doesn’t hide the fact that he has a great smile, a perfect match for his stunning body.
He takes my hand and spins me around, checking out my costume as he does a little dance in his. He nods, and his eyebrows, barely visible above his goggles, wiggle in approval, making me laugh.
When he ushers me away from the restroom doors, I expect him to leave me, but instead, he keeps hold of my hand and continues to dance with me, even though the music is barely audible during brief gaps in the crowd’s cheers.
“Don’t you need to be on stage?” I gesture toward the costume contest to help him understand, since he probably can’t hear me.
He turns his head in that direction, shrugs, and spins me around again before pulling me in close, up against that stunning chest of his again.
“Oh!” I’m startled by the move, but not at all unhappy about it. This is officially the best Halloween party I’ve ever attended, and when I find Autumn later, I’m going to thank her for inviting me. Once I’m done dancing with all of these hot men, of course.
A recent memory of the vampire comes to mind. Even though he didn’t speak, I distinctly got the impression that he’d seek me out again. Is it going to be a problem if he finds me dancing with this merry mad scientist, who seems reluctant to let me go?
The man spins me again, then puts his arms around me from behind, his hard chest now pressing against my back, his hands roaming my body.
It’s a ridiculous thought, but I feel like I’m cheating on the vampire. The vampire kissed me, and I’d enjoy kissing him again, but I don’t even know him. This is a party where we’re all meant to mingle, and if these Club Red dancers want to get a bit handsy, I’m not going to stop them.
Not when it feels this good.
His hands are rough in the very best way, creating a delicious friction as they slide over my arms, then drag across the fabric of my dress, making me wish I was naked. He traces the curves of my waist and my hips, and I let out a sigh as my body melts into his.
When he leads me to a chair and has me sit down, I’m relieved, since my legs were starting to go weak.
Despite being seated, my entire body feels weak when he straddles the chair I’m sitting in and starts to dance, his glorious bare chest just inches from my face, his hips moving like they have a mind of their own.
When I was here for the regular show, I saw women on stage getting lap dances. At the time, I envied them, but I also felt like I’d be too embarrassed to enjoy the performance if I were in their position.
I’m not embarrassed now. Maybe it helps that everyone else in the room is focused on the stage and cheering for the costume contest. It’s like I’m getting a private dance, but I don’t think I’d care if others were watching, because this man and his moves have me enthralled.
The way his body swivels …I can easily imagine another way for him to put those motions to use. And when he pumps his hips, thrusting them forward—give me strength!
The mad scientist—or as I’m going to call him now, the sinfully sexy scientist—takes my hands in his and encourages me to touch him. His hands covering mine, he presses my palms against his chest and slides my fingers down over his rock-hard pecs and across his pebbled abs, all the while rippling his torso in a way that’s utterly hypnotic.
His skin is warm and smooth, and the muscles beneath are solid and strong. I could spend days happily touching the front of his body, but he has other ideas.
He slides my hands over the ridges of muscle at his waist, around to the back, and then downward, until I’m cupping his ass cheeks through his snug gray pants.
He thrusts his pelvis to the left, to the right, and then directly toward me, and I start to wonder if there are any men costumed as doctors in the house, because my heart is threatening to give out.
As his hips gyrate, light from above illuminates the bulge in his pants. It appears that I’m not the only one being turned on by this dance.
Dark shadows define the shape of his erection, which grows larger as I watch. My mouth goes dry, and when I glance up, his goggle-covered eyes are aimed at me, a smirk playing on his lips.
I’ve been caught looking, and I’m sure it’s clear how much I like what I see.
