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Of their own accord, my feet carried me toward the mistress of seduction with bare feet and dainty, muddy toes.
Her eyes stayed closed when I stood in front of her, abruptly asking, “Who are you?”
As if entranced by her own sex appeal, her head lulled to the left to eventually hang back, exposing the most perfect neck I’d ever seen. “Anyone I want to be.”
I’d never heard such a voice. It was warm, sultry, yet wholesome and genuine.
I asked, “Do you know that everyone is staring at you?”
They were. Even the other dancers who were now faking it to watch this mysterious woman.
Not that she gave two fucks, which she proved by replying, “What does it matter?”
Baffled, and a bit frustrated even though I didn’t know why, I proclaimed, “They’re judging you.”
Not missing a sultry beat, she dismissed my concern. “They can waste their energy if they wish.”
Was her sass adding to my instant infatuation? Better-fucking-believe-it.
Swallowing down desire, I jolted when realizing I was about to snarl at the onlookers.
Can’t lie... Even though it made no sense, I was already feeling selfish. I wanted to be the only one who witnessed this dancing miracle.
Am I losing it?
As if reading my mind or sensing my possessiveness, she grinned. “Your strength may serve me well.”
I was ready to serve her, all right.
“You will get me to Miami.” she declared., her hips circling, enticingly.
At that point, I would have found a way to get her to the moon if that’s where she wanted to go. Not that I was going to let her know that. “Depends,” I pretended no to be affected by her. Taking a step closer to the magnificent being, my harsh tone added, “Your name?”
Arm enticingly folded over and around her head as she continued to sway to the beat, she asked, “Which one do you think is as beautiful as me?”
I licked my lips, hungry to pluck her flower. Flower. I smirked. “How about Rooose-a.”
Those incredible fingers of hers ran down her neck as she moaned, “Spanish, yes. I’ll speak that language.”
I lifted a curious brow. “Just picking one from midair?”
With grace, she twisted an arm in front of her to place the back of her hand against my left shoulder then slid it down my arm. “I’m choosing a preferred language. And accepting the offered name.” She switched to Spanish, “And I’m willing to pay the price.”
Instead of questioning her about such a statement and the ability to merely ‘choose’ a language, I focused on how she wasn’t seeing me—her eyes still closed—yet knowing exactly where I was.
Had to be a ruse, right? My brain understood this, but my body didn’t give a shit about the trickery.
Watching her touching me, I shuddered. Relentless yearning threatened to wreck me, or at least deepen my fading self-control. I rubbed my beard, wishing she was sitting on my face. “I’m also willing to pay.”
A flip of the wrist had her fingertips now grazing my chest, top to bottom. “So it seems.”
If I had appreciated the back of her hand, I was downright maddened with her fingers’ graze, praying they would sink even lower. Like, past my belt and into my jeans…
“But,” she warned, “you can’t keep me,” she finished in Spanish.
She was stunning, no joke, but now I was starting to think her ego was slightly unchecked. That is, until she opened her eyes.
Nothing, and I mean nothing could’ve prepared me. Once they opened, I became hers.
