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While Ellister’s hand goes to my waist, he slides his foot back, and mine goes with it.
No pins and needles.
No pain.
Just relief.
Yet again, his presence has hijacked my horny body.
He taps my good foot with his right, encouraging me to go along with this silliness.
When I don’t comply immediately, Ellister uses his bossy tone when he orders, “Move with me, Hannah Wildwood.”
I swear, his voice goes straight to my clit, pulsing and throbbing between my legs. Oh, I’d love tomove with him.
He drags my foot again, and my mobile leg follows with the next step, staying in sync with him as I dutifully position my hands—one on his shoulder, and the other cradled in his warm grip.
“There you go,” he praises as we find a good rhythm.
“This is ridiculous,” I grumble, even though this is exactly what I’d wished for just a couple minutes ago.
“But are you having fun?”
I actually am.
Ellister’s a great dance partner. Despite doing more work than he should have to, he stays on the beat, and he helps me keep up with him. It feels weird to basically have one of my limbs being operated like a puppet, and our movements are clunky. Not to mention, people are still watching us. Out of the corner of my eye, I see them whispering behind their hands.
But any oddness about the situation is pushed out by the fact that I’m dancing.
I’m doing something I thought I’d never get to do again.
“Yeah, I’m having fun,” I admit.
“Good.”
“But I could collapse at any second. Just warning you.”
“I would never let you fall.” He holds me tighter, sliding his arm around my back more firmly.
Our bodies are pressed together, our fronts molded against each other while he keeps me propped up. The movements create some friction, which is inevitable when you’re dancing this close to someone, and there’s that tingle again.
This time, it’s not just in one place. It’s everywhere.
My entire body feels like it’s buzzing. Like the best adrenaline rush I’ve ever had.
Why does it feel so good to be near him?
Just like earlier, my symptoms have faded away, and I let out a sigh of satisfaction. Closing my eyes, I revel in the moment while resting my head on Ellister’s chest.
Since I want to stay in our little bubble, I keep my face turned toward his neck, and my nose ends up just inches away from his skin where the top buttons of his shirt are undone.
I just can’t believe how good he smells. After working in the stalls, he really shouldn’t. He emits a scent I can’t quite describe, yet it’s familiar in a way.
It reminds me of… belonging.
Man. I shouldn’t have taken those extra meds. Because now I’m just being crazy.
Soon, Ellister’s going to get back into his fancy car and drive off to wherever he’s from. Probably the city, where he most likely has a nice apartment. Maybe he’s got a girlfriend. At the very least, there has to be a string of broken hearts in his wake.
