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I’m in big trouble.
Rhys’s challenge is a cock blocker I could do without.
Fuck.
“Can I get your attention, please,” Cesar says into a microphone, walking up onstage.
“The show is starting,” Arianne says before tearing her gaze away from mine.
The moment is gone.
Cesar invites Cienfuegos to the stage. A short black guy sporting a dyed platinum blond afro introduces the group. In heavy, accented English, he lets us know the first song is a salsa rendition of an old chart-topper. Something about a special request. After roaring applause, Cienfuegos kicks things off with a bang. The second the song blares through the speakers, everyone, including Arianne, recognizes it and cheers. I’m clueless, but I can handle the animated beat.
I grab my dancing partner by the waist and we start moving to the music.
I make out the words of the bridge.
Amigos con derecho.
The irony is uncanny.
I search the crowd for Cesar. He’s dancing with his fiancée. That ridiculous grin stretching his lips says it all.
“Fucker,” I mouth.
“Friends with benefits,” he mouths back with a wink.
I shake my head.
Thank God, Arianne is oblivious to our sparring.
She’s already lost to the music.
Wow. She can dance.
She can really dance.
There’s no hesitation in her bold movements.
I could watch her body sway so bewitchingly to this seductive beat for the rest of my natural life.
Damn.
It’s like she’s in a trance. My cock is this close from busting a vein just from watching her.
I can’t even adjust myself inconspicuously.
After an hour of feverish dancing, my cock is aching, an annoying reminder of my vow of chastity.
I shall not succumb to temptation.
I keep repeating the mantra over and over in my head, although I know I’m only kidding myself. The woman dancing in front of me is on fire. Her messy updo is a lot messier. Strands of hair caress her cheeks. Without thinking, I unlace our fingers and brush a few of them behind her ears.
Arianne’s eyes move up to mine.
I read something I haven’t seen so far.
Lust.
