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The song ends, and the music changes to a slower tune. Most people leave the floor, as do I, until I’m pulled back with the warm, callous hand of a man I long for and fear intimately dancing with.
He doesn’t give me a chance to dispute him as he pulls me into his chest, placing a hand on my back and closing the distance between us. My hand melts into his as I settle my other one on the space between his heart and shoulder. Together, we dance to the music, our feet in perfect sync to the beating of my heart. He turns elegantly, his body in tune with the slow music. Yet there’s a sort of harshness to him, like he wants me closer, tighter … forever.
I allow him to move my body anywhere he pleases. After all, tonight, we’re supposed to be living.
He leans his head toward my neck, his breath tickling my ear. “Who knew you knew how to moonwalk? Any other surprises?”
“It’s my only move. I went to a slumber party in grade school, and my friend was desperate to teach me.”
“So, that’s what you girls do at slumber parties. Here I was, thinking it was about pillow fights and braiding hair.”
I giggle. “There’s a little of that too. Mostly, we talked about boys.”
“Oh, yeah? What kind of guy did a young Jillian like?”
There’s a pause as I groan a little. My mouth skims his collarbone. My lack of heels puts me at a height disadvantage, and yet it’s a blessing, as I don’t have to look at him when I sigh into his chest.
“Brown hair, blue yes. Likes to dance. Charming.”
His mouth moves to my cheek, and I feel his smile graze my skin. “I always liked blondes.”
My heart falls to my stomach, and I feel my body give way to his words.
The vibration of his chest dances against mine. “Until I met a fiery redhead with piercing green eyes and the most gorgeous smile I’ve ever seen. Even since then, I’ve only had eyes for red.”
My eyes lift to his.
This is where I stop breathing. Stop living and give my soul back to Luke.
I don’t want him to have it, but damn if this man doesn’t know how to steal it.
With the smolder of his stare.
With the lick of his lips.
With the twist of his hips and tightening of his arms that pulls my body closer to his.
To his body.
To his heart.
To his every panting breath.
Nothing seems to matter as I follow him around the dance floor. His heart is racing in his chest, and I feel the power of it charging toward my palm, into my veins, and into every vessel of my pulsating body.
I move with him. He dips left. I fall into him.
We become one with the song. One with each other, basking in the heat of our flesh, igniting in a fiery storm, billowing heavier than the flames the moment we reconnected. My arms glide up to his neck, and I weave my hand in the curls of his hair. His hands move to my hips and dig into my jeans, gripping me with a fierce desire.
I lift my chin. He dips his.
Our mouths are closer as I drink in his breath and look into his eyes. Those soul-searing navy eyes that look as intense as the intimacy of a kiss.
Except we’re not kissing.
We’re dancing.
And when the song ends, the spell breaks. Luke blinks at me and slowly moves away, taking five steps back, furthering the distance from me.
