asked.
“The only one, yes.”
“And if I share my body with you tonight? Will I still be the only one?”
“The only one.”
“And you’ll treat me like a princess?”
“A princess.”
“Do you promise?”
“Promise.”
With the nimbleness of a cat, she slid underneath the table.
Oh, man. Was she going to . . .
Suddenly, her lips enveloped him.
He gasped.
He couldn’t believe what she was doing, right there in a public place. But he didn’t stop her. Couldn’t stop her.
She ran her moist tongue up and down the length of him.
He plunged his hands into her silky hair.
Placing her hands on his knees, she spread his legs farther apart. She took him in deeper.
“Oh, Jesus.” He arched his back.
She sucked him, kissed him, licked him.
He clutched the napkin in his fists.
He was going to explode.
Then, before he erupted, she withdrew.
His body snapped back into place like a rubber band. As he fought to catch his breath, she emerged on the other side of the booth.
“Why . . . why’d you stop?” he asked.
She dabbed at her lips with a napkin, smiled.
“Good things come to those who wait,” she said. “I’m ready to go dancing.”
She signaled the server to bring the check.
They went to Havana Heat, a club on Peachtree and Pharr, in the heart of the Buckhead nightlife district. Cigar and cigarette smoke, cologne, and perfume flavored the body-heat heavy air. The crowd—thick for a Tuesday night—was a multicultural stew, heavy on Latinos, with a generous seasoning of blacks, Asians, Indians, and whites, most of the clubbers in their mid-twenties and older. People grooved on the large dance floor to the lively sounds of Latin soul, most performing salsa with varying degrees of skill, a sprinkling of them rocking lamely with a club-footed two-step.
“You remember how to salsa?” Mika asked.
“Sure do.”
Two years ago, he’d taken a salsa class with Carmen, since her boyfriend at the time had no interest in dancing. He wondered what Mika would think about that—she seemed to have a jealous streak, and a keen interest in his relationship with Carmen.
Well, he figured he could deal with a little jealousy. She was so beautiful that he was prepared to deal with quite a bit. Besides, no one was perfect, right?
“Did you come here to hold up the wall?” She grabbed Andrew’s hand. “Let’s dance.”
She guided him to the dance floor. They found a space near the middle. The pounding beat made his teeth vibrate.
She pressed against him, her hand cupping his butt.
“Lead me, baby,” she whispered. “I’ll go wherever you want to go.”
She licked his earlobe, smiled.
Hot blood sang through his veins. Pure, animal lust. It made him so dizzy he worried that he would forget all the salsa he’d learned and bungle through the steps, wind up sprawled on the floor with his legs knotted like spaghetti.
She stepped back. Took his hands in hers.
“Anywhere you me want to go,” she said. Her gaze never left his face. “I’ll follow you.”
In a euphoric rush, his lessons came back to him, and he started to move.
Two hours later, they left the building and walked across the parking lot. After the stifling humidity of the club, Andrew breathed gratefully of the cool night air.
“You’re an incredible dancer,” he said.
“You’ve got moves, too. I’m impressed.”
“It took everything I had to keep up with you.”
“Nonsense, you were in perfect sync all along. As I knew you would be.”
They reached his car, got inside.
She twisted in the seat to face him. “Where are we going next?”
“It’s almost eleven-thirty. Tired?”
“Not at all. Are you?”
“I feel good. Full of energy, actually.”
She touched his arm. “Let’s go to my hotel.”
He knew very well what would happen at her hotel.
“You sure about that?” he asked.
“Absolutely. Are you sure?”
Uneasiness clenched his stomach. This was moving faster than he’d ever
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