Anticipation(22)

At some point, Renarto joined them, then Hans, and Blue realized Steffi  must have issued a general invitation to the gang at work. It was on the  tip of her tongue to ask if Steffi had spoken to Eddie, but she stopped  herself from doing so. She felt too good right now to let herself get  bound up in all the worry and strategizing that had occupied her since  the accident. She didn't want to think. She wanted to dance. She wanted  to forget. She wanted to let loose in the best possible way.

She was working her hips, hands stretched above her head when she felt  someone come up behind her. Her pulse leaped with undeniable, familiar  excitement as an arm came around her waist, pulling her against a hard  chest and thighs.

Eddie.

Her body knew his touch, and for a moment she was awash with despair.  This was supposed to be her escape. Her release. He wasn't supposed to  be here.

Then he started to move, his hips gyrating in time with hers, their  bodies slipping instinctively into a rhythm they'd perfected over the  years, and it felt so good, so right.

No one danced like Eddie. No one.

After a few seconds, Eddie spoke near her ear. "Welcome back, babe."

For the life of her, she couldn't stop herself from smiling. Maybe that  made her insane or self-destructive. Right now, she was beyond caring.

Together they rolled their hips, the movement provocative and supremely  well-practiced. The hand on her belly flexed, subtly leading her, and  she spun in his arms so that they were now face-to-face. Locked hip to  hip, her right hand held at chin height in his left, they slipped into a  bass-driven Kizomba, Eddie's hand on the small of her back directing  her backward across the dance floor. She flicked and rolled her hips in  synch with his, responding to the thigh he insinuated between her own.  The beat changed, and they broke apart, losing the relative formality of  the Kizomba and descending into loose-limbed hip-hop, still taunting  one another with advance and retreat moves.

The euphoria that had swept through her earlier was nothing compared to  the rush of pure exaltation that was dancing with Eddie. His beautiful  body was responsive, strong, and supple, and she loved the masterful way  he guided her with his hands, eyes, and hips. Not that she was  completely at his mercy. She gave as good as she got, challenging him,  daring him to follow where she led. He always did, taking up the  gauntlet with wickedly glinting eyes and an almost-smile.

They came together again as a slower, dirtier song came on, bodies  slipping into perfect harmony. He moved forward, she fell back. She  attacked, he retreated. The leather and amber scent of Eddie's  aftershave filled her head as he dragged her closer, his chest brushing  the tips of her breasts, his hips brushing briefly against hers.  Immediately he moved away, restoring the tiny buffer zone they always  kept between them on the dance floor.

Too late. She was already aroused - God, she'd been desperate for him  for months - and now heat spread into her belly and up into her breasts.

She told herself to pull away, to put even more space between them, but  he felt too good, his hands on her body so right. They fit so well  together, responding instinctively to each other's smallest non-verbal  cues.

It would be like this between them in bed, too, she knew. Their bodies knew each other. He would make her feel so good.

Images filled her head as they moved across the dance floor. His mouth  on her breasts. Between her legs. His cock inside her, driving her  crazy. His tongue in her mouth, his teeth on her skin.

She moved closer, her hips brushing his again. This time, when he moved  away, she followed, crossing a line neither of them had ever crossed  before as she pressed herself fully against him.

A warning sounded in the back of her mind, but she pushed it away. She  was literally aching to be close to him. She needed to feel his body  against hers.

Eddie slipped his knee between hers and she rolled her hips, simulating  the act she so desperately wanted. His hips undulated with hers,  following her lead.

She closed her eyes, breathing in the smell of him, getting lost in the  magic of having his hard body moving so close to hers. God, he felt  amazing. She could almost imagine how her breasts would feel crushed  against his chest. How his butt would flex as he pumped into her. How he  would taste when she pressed her mouth to his skin.         

     



 

Of its own volition, her hand slid down his back to his hips, urging him  closer still. Every shift of his weight, every movement of his leg  muscles sent ripples of pleasure through her as she all but rode his  thigh. Caught up in the fantasy behind her closed eyelids, she slid a  hand onto his ass, her fingers digging into firm, resilient flesh.

God, yes. Please, yes.

"How many JDs have you had, anyway?" Eddie's voice was an amused growl  in her ear, shocking her out of the hazy fantasy world she'd descended  into.

Reality hit her like a slap, and she snatched her hand away before  taking a jerky step backward. Appalled, she stared at him, cold  adrenaline making her heart slam against her ribcage.

What had she just done?

"I'm sorry. I didn't - I'm sorry," she blurted.

Eddie's smile faded, to be replaced with a questioning frown. Blue  realized - too late - that until a second ago, he'd thought she'd simply  overindulged. Which meant she'd exposed herself even more.

For a long moment they stood frozen on the dance floor, lights flashing  and hot bodies gyrating around them. No clever words or excuses surfaced  to save her. Unable to hold his eye a second longer, she spun on her  heel, pushing her way toward the edge of the dance floor. The moment she  emerged from the press of bodies, she headed for the rear exit, panic  exploding inside her as she began to understand what she'd done.

What she'd revealed.

She pushed the black-painted door hard and exited to the cool, dark  quiet of the alleyway behind the bar. The pumping bass beat that had  been a part of her body for the past few hours was left behind as the  door swung shut. She swore loudly and raked a hand through her hair.

How on earth could she backtrack from this moment? What could she  possibly say to smooth things over and make it like those seconds on the  dance floor never happened?

Music spilled into the alleyway as the door opened behind her. She threw  a glance over her shoulder. Sure enough, it was Eddie. Her stomach did a  duck-and-dive as she saw his blank, unreadable expression.

Fuck.

She turned to face him. He walked slowly toward her, stopping a few feet  away. His gaze scanned her face and she did her best to mask the fact  that her whole body was shaking with reaction.

"What just happened?" His voice was very low, very serious.

"I don't know."

"Yes, you do."

She couldn't look away from his clear green gaze. She formulated a lie  in her mind - you were right, I was drunk, I forgot it was you - but  couldn't quite force it out her mouth.

Eddie took a step closer, testing her. She held her ground, aware that  if she fell back she'd expose herself even more. She couldn't stop the  trembling, however, her whole body vibrating in reaction to his  closeness.

"If you were anyone else, I'd take what just happened in there as an invitation," he said.

She opened her mouth to reject the idea, but for the second time tonight  words failed her. She saw realization dawn in his eyes, watched the  tension stiffen his body as he finally understood.

"Haven't you ever wondered?" she heard herself ask, her voice barely more than a whisper. "About us? How it would be?"

He was so close she could see his pupils dilate as her words hit him,  the dark pupil swallowing the green of his irises. Then he spoke, and  his words tipped her world upside down.

"Every fucking day of my life."

Her mind didn't know what to do with his answer, but her body did.  Without consciously willing it, she closed the distance, stepping so  close there was barely an inch between them. His hand found her  shoulder, sliding to the nape of her neck, his gaze locked with hers.

"You're shaking," he said.

"So are you." His hand acted as a conduit, relaying his body's reaction to her own.

His gaze dropped to her mouth, the barely-restrained demand in his eyes the hottest thing she'd ever seen.

"Tell me what you want," he said.

Was it really that simple?

She knew it wasn't, but she was so far gone, reason and common sense  left far, far behind. All she could think about was the man looking at  her as though he wanted to consume her and the need making her sex ache  for fulfillment.

"You. I want you." The words came from her soul, the most honest she'd  ever uttered, and the moment they were out of her mouth the world got  crazy.

The hand on her neck tightened and she dropped her head back  instinctively, excitement kicking in her chest as his face descended  toward her own.

Then his mouth was on hers, the fierceness of the contact tilting her  head even further. His tongue swept into her mouth, brushing her own,  and she forgot how to think.