will be easier.”
He gulped and stared right back. But they didn’t move, and then the band began a new song, this one eliciting universal approval from the crowd.
“Popular song?” he asked.
“Oh, yes. This is El Gran Combo. A beloved Puerto Rican Salsa band.”
“What are they saying?”
“‘ Brujeria ’ is the name of the song.” She licked her lips and pressed her body against his, maneuvering them into the correct position. “She’s bewitched him. A bruja is a witch.” She stepped back. “Now, to make this work, watch my feet.”
Still holding on to her, he created space between them and watched her feet in the spiky sandals she wore.
“It’s a simple motion. Move your left foot forward, and then switch your weight, so that you can move your right foot back.”
He tried to copy her movements, but he failed to achieve the same result. “Wait. What was that you just did? You kicked out your foot. And you paused.”
She snorted. “Don’t worry about kicking your foot out. You’re not ready for that.”
He tried again.
“Yes, that’s it. Be sure to swing your hips; they’ll move naturally with your footwork.”
“ Your hips move naturally with the footwork. Mine? Not so much.”
“You’re doing great, Mark. Just do what feels good to you.”
Right about now something else entirely would feel good to him.
After tripping on his own feet a few times, he eased into a comfortable pattern, his feet mirroring her footwork as well as could be expected.
Karen looked up at him, her radiant smile revealing the dimples in her sun-kissed cheeks. “Ready to spin me?”
“Nope, I’m good.”
“C’mon, Mark, have faith in yourself. What’s the worst that could happen?”
“I spin you so hard and fast that you tumble into a table?”
“Have faith in me , then. I promise I won’t let you hurt me.”
“All right. If that’s what you want, you can’t claim later that I didn’t warn you.”
She swung his hand above them and spun herself around, which would have been fine if she hadn’t ended the spin with her butt pressed against his crotch. She turned her head to the side, and her cheek brushed against his chest. “See there? No one got hurt, right?”
His balls disagreed. They hurt. And tonight, they’d be blue. So very blue.
He dropped his head, pressing his face against her neck. Not an advisable move, but he couldn’t help himself. Maybe the song itself had powers: the power to ensure that any man who danced with a woman would be entranced by her.
A weathered hand opened a wedge between them. “ Basta! ” Abuela Marta exclaimed through gritted teeth. “What are you doing? This is a wedding. Ahora no es el momento para el baile sucio. ”
He didn’t have to understand Spanish to know Abuela Marta didn’t appreciate how he and Karen were dancing. Well, he didn’t like it either.
Karen took Abuela Marta’s hand. “ Lo siento, Abuelita , but it’s not dirty dancing.” She shimmied her shoulders. “Just a little sexy, sexy.”
Abuela Marta harrumphed and shimmied right back. “Well, too much of that and soon you’ll have little babies, babies.” She turned to Mark. “My granddaughter’s got big plans. La doctora de la familia. ”
Karen rolled her eyes and drew her grandmother to her side. “Yes, and a little dancing isn’t going to change that. C’mon, Abuelita , let’s dance.” Karen walked away with her grandmother. Before she disappeared into the circle of dancers, she turned her head and mouthed “Sorry” to him.
He saluted her and strode to the bar. “Bourbon. Neat,” he told the bartender. Yes, that’s what he needed: a stiff drink—to match his stiff dick.
Two strong drinks later, the wedding coordinator tapped his shoulder. “Mr. Lansing, we’ll start the toasts in a few minutes, okay? We’ll begin with Ms. Ramirez and end with you.”
He slipped a hand in his pants pocket and pulled out the toast he’d written a week ago. “Yes,
He gulped and stared right back. But they didn’t move, and then the band began a new song, this one eliciting universal approval from the crowd.
“Popular song?” he asked.
“Oh, yes. This is El Gran Combo. A beloved Puerto Rican Salsa band.”
“What are they saying?”
“‘ Brujeria ’ is the name of the song.” She licked her lips and pressed her body against his, maneuvering them into the correct position. “She’s bewitched him. A bruja is a witch.” She stepped back. “Now, to make this work, watch my feet.”
Still holding on to her, he created space between them and watched her feet in the spiky sandals she wore.
“It’s a simple motion. Move your left foot forward, and then switch your weight, so that you can move your right foot back.”
He tried to copy her movements, but he failed to achieve the same result. “Wait. What was that you just did? You kicked out your foot. And you paused.”
She snorted. “Don’t worry about kicking your foot out. You’re not ready for that.”
He tried again.
“Yes, that’s it. Be sure to swing your hips; they’ll move naturally with your footwork.”
“ Your hips move naturally with the footwork. Mine? Not so much.”
“You’re doing great, Mark. Just do what feels good to you.”
Right about now something else entirely would feel good to him.
After tripping on his own feet a few times, he eased into a comfortable pattern, his feet mirroring her footwork as well as could be expected.
Karen looked up at him, her radiant smile revealing the dimples in her sun-kissed cheeks. “Ready to spin me?”
“Nope, I’m good.”
“C’mon, Mark, have faith in yourself. What’s the worst that could happen?”
“I spin you so hard and fast that you tumble into a table?”
“Have faith in me , then. I promise I won’t let you hurt me.”
“All right. If that’s what you want, you can’t claim later that I didn’t warn you.”
She swung his hand above them and spun herself around, which would have been fine if she hadn’t ended the spin with her butt pressed against his crotch. She turned her head to the side, and her cheek brushed against his chest. “See there? No one got hurt, right?”
His balls disagreed. They hurt. And tonight, they’d be blue. So very blue.
He dropped his head, pressing his face against her neck. Not an advisable move, but he couldn’t help himself. Maybe the song itself had powers: the power to ensure that any man who danced with a woman would be entranced by her.
A weathered hand opened a wedge between them. “ Basta! ” Abuela Marta exclaimed through gritted teeth. “What are you doing? This is a wedding. Ahora no es el momento para el baile sucio. ”
He didn’t have to understand Spanish to know Abuela Marta didn’t appreciate how he and Karen were dancing. Well, he didn’t like it either.
Karen took Abuela Marta’s hand. “ Lo siento, Abuelita , but it’s not dirty dancing.” She shimmied her shoulders. “Just a little sexy, sexy.”
Abuela Marta harrumphed and shimmied right back. “Well, too much of that and soon you’ll have little babies, babies.” She turned to Mark. “My granddaughter’s got big plans. La doctora de la familia. ”
Karen rolled her eyes and drew her grandmother to her side. “Yes, and a little dancing isn’t going to change that. C’mon, Abuelita , let’s dance.” Karen walked away with her grandmother. Before she disappeared into the circle of dancers, she turned her head and mouthed “Sorry” to him.
He saluted her and strode to the bar. “Bourbon. Neat,” he told the bartender. Yes, that’s what he needed: a stiff drink—to match his stiff dick.
Two strong drinks later, the wedding coordinator tapped his shoulder. “Mr. Lansing, we’ll start the toasts in a few minutes, okay? We’ll begin with Ms. Ramirez and end with you.”
He slipped a hand in his pants pocket and pulled out the toast he’d written a week ago. “Yes,
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