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“I’m too old to dance,” he refuses.
“How old are you?”
“Forty-one.”
“Well, I’m three hundred and six months. We’re basically the same age.”
He doesn’t miss a beat. “Fifteen years puts a large gap between us.”
“Quick mathing. I’m impressed. Do any of those years affect you getting up to dance with right now.”
His lips twitch but he still doesn’t get up from the couch. “Too many to mention.”
I scoff and move closer to him until I’m so close that I’m wedging myself between his legs, making room for my body there. He doesn’t move other than to tilt his head up to continue watching me.
“Don’t you ever cut loose, Kingsley the Uptight?”
“When I have reason to.”
I bend over, reaching for his Gucci tie, and gently pull. It comes loose with one tug, and I slowly wrap the silk around my fist until it comes away completely from his neck, then I drape it around my shoulders. “Better?”
The only response is a single deep rise of his chest.
Then I do something I know I shouldn’t but do anyway.
I swing one leg over him and straddle his hips, bracing my hands on his shoulders.
Eyes locked on his, my hips rocks once, then twice, agonizingly slowly against him.
He doesn’t move.
Not for the rest of the song, not for the entirety of the next song, as I grind over him, slow, sensual, eyes locked on his. Silently saying things with my eyes I have no fucking business saying to him.
My fingers dig so hard into his shoulders, I know tomorrow he’ll wake with my fingerprints on his skin.
The only sign that he’s even the slightest bit affected is his eyes darkening when I walk my fingers down his chest, and it tightens under my palms.
When the song ends, I don’t move.
His muscles shape my hands, and the only evidence he’s even a living, breathing human real is how hot he feels under my touch.
“Kingsley?” I whisper.
“Yes, Luna?” he whispers back.
“Can you do something for me?”
“I can try.”
“Can you… hold me?”
And I wait.
I wait for half a second, half of a second for the rejection, half a second for the rebuke, half a second for him to tell me I’m crazy.
Half a second before I feel his hands come up to slide up my back and pull me against him.
Half a second before my head falls to rest against his chest, and the tears come again, hard and fast.
