Sex Says(50)

I shrugged. “I’m stalking you.”

“I fucking knew it!”

“See, LoLo,” I said, my inner voice hanging out right above my voice box, apparently. “We’re pretty much best friends. Knowing each other and shit. Next thing you know, we’re going to be finishing—”

“Each other’s sentences. Yeah, yeah.”

“Now that’s just creepy,” I teased, and she shook her head with a smile.

“Why are you stalking me?” she semi-yelled over the music.

I didn’t want to yell. My days for screaming a conversation ended a few years ago when I started avoiding overcrowded places like nightclubs.

“I’ll tell you on one condition.”

She rolled her eyes. “Fine. No thanks. I don’t need to know.”

Leaning forward, I lifted the glass out of her hand and set it on the table before taking her hand in mine despite her protests.

“How many times do I have to tell you we’re not friends?” she asked, pulling at my hand in order to try to get me to release her.

I used my other hand to grab her elbow and pull her body close enough that she could hear me over the din. “I’m not sure. But I don’t think the tally begins until you start doing it without a gigantic fucking smile on your face.”

When I leaned back, her features were schooled into a scowl. I laughed.

“Come on, Skeets. Dance with me. It’s just a dance.”

“You probably don’t know how to dance,” she accused.

“You’re probably right. But hey, just for fun, let’s see.”

I could see the wheels spinning in her mind as she considered it over and over again. What would it cost her to dance with me just this once? Would it lessen the intensity of her hatred or aid it?

I didn’t know which decision would win the battle, but I knew what action would win the war—she was going to dance with me whether she knew it or not.

After several long seconds, she saved me the trouble of having to carry her and conceal her cries of protest and jumped to her feet. She shoved past me and headed for the stairs to the level of the club made for dancing.

I followed her dutifully, watching the line of her shoulders as she walked. One peeked out from the collar of a dress I thought might have been a sweatshirt in a former life, while the other climbed to her ear and fell down again on a circuit.

I guessed she was talking to herself as she walked, or maybe cursing me, but eventually, my eyes moved down to her feet. Sparkly and overadorned heels belied the casual nature of her dress and spoke to what part of an outfit she found most interesting. Heels, Converse, boots—each was chosen precisely, while the clothes were there only as a means to combat nudity.

I honestly expected her to ditch me as we made it to the top, but she kept a slow pace and headed straight for the center of the mass of writhing bodies.

Amber green eyes lined to garner attention found mine over her shoulder to ask a question. I didn’t know what and I didn’t have one fucking clue about the answer, but she seemed to find it nonetheless, turning to face me completely in one smooth move.

She held out a hand for me to take, and my heart thumped. Naïveté wasn’t one of her recurrent qualities, but picturing her thinking about us doing the waltz and comparing it to what I actually intended to do made my blood pump faster.

Awareness shot through my arm as I took her tiny fingers in mine and clasped them tight. She gasped as I gave her hand a rough, calculated yank and spun her to face away from me, pressing the front of my body up against the back of hers at once. Her hand in mine, I brought them down to the front of her hip and pressed in.

“Ready?” I whispered in her ear, smiling when she trembled.

“Sail” by AWOLNATION hummed through the speakers without waiting for her answer, and I had no choice but to move. I loved to dance, the naughtier, the better, and this was one of my favorite beats. It reminded me in all the best ways of fucking, and with Lola’s body pressed up against mine, tonight couldn’t have been different if I’d tried.

One side to the other, I moved our joined hips in unison until her legs gave up the fight and her body relaxed into mine. I moved my face to her neck and just breathed her in. My lips never touched her skin and my tongue stayed inside my mouth, but I felt her so intensely, so acutely, I’d swear until I died that I tasted her that night.

“Reed,” she whispered, and by some miracle, I heard her.

Back and forth we swayed as my hands skated from the tops of her shoulders down to her fingertips and over the curves of her thighs. “Just feel it, Lo.”

Her head fell back onto my shoulder, and I pushed my body deeper into hers, circling my hips and making hers go with them. The back of her throat hummed with the effort to contain a moan as I spun her body out from mine and back in to press her front to my own and pushed her up my thigh until our hips met again.