What You Need(43)

He rested the side of his jaw to my temple and urged me forward. I counted. Slow, quick, quick, slow. He turned us a quarter turn and again danced us forward and back.

By about the fifth time, I didn’t need to count steps. The music and the dance steps made sense in a way I’d never put together before. We fell into a rhythm as if we’d been dancing together for years.

I surrendered to the sultry beat of the music and the sensuous way Brady moved his body. The cashmere was buttery soft beneath my palm on his shoulder. The scent of his cologne became more noticeable as his skin warmed from exertion.

When he stepped back and spun me out to the side and then back in, I didn’t miss a single beat.

“See?” He breathed in my ear. “You’re a natural. God, woman, the way you move . . . it’s like making love to you fully clothed.”

That might’ve been the single sexiest thing a man had ever said to me. And I knew he wasn’t lying; I could gauge my effect on him every time our pelvises touched.

The next time he spun me, he stayed behind me, with both hands on my hips.

I mimicked his side-to-side motion, still with the slow, quick, quick, slow steps as our bodies touched. Yes, we were grinding on each other, but it was a classier way to do it.

“Put your arms above your head like you did on the bar top.”

As soon as I did that, it changed the angle of my spine and shoulders.

His left hand traveled up the outside of my body from the bend in my waist, over my rib cage, the outer swell of my breast, and slowly across my outstretched arm until his fingers circled my wrists. His lips grazed the slope of my shoulder as he flattened his palm on my abdomen.

That’s when he started making small circles with his hips. His mouth migrated to my ear. “Bravo. We’re in perfect sync.”

I tipped my head to the side, wanting to feel the soft press of his lips. Or even the light graze of his teeth.

He growled in my ear. “Not going to let anyone see how you react when I bite the back of your neck. That’s for me alone.” He feathered a soft kiss over the shell of my ear. “You want that, don’t you? Your hands braced against something solid as I’m coming at you hard and fast from behind. Teasing you. Touching you. Sinking my teeth right here”—he flicked his tongue over the magic spot—“holding on to you as you come undone.”

I just about had an orgasm. Right there in the middle of the damn dance floor of the hottest club in town.

My head screamed for me to retreat.

I lowered my arms and spun into him, trying to put a respectable distance between us.

But Brady was having none of that. He brought me against his chest, in a modified version of how we’d started the dance.

Neither of us said anything.

I could feel his heart thundering against my ear. The cashmere was soft against my cheek.

And I knew I should’ve disentangled from his arms when the song ended, but I didn’t. The next song was slow, and we swayed to the music until the deep thudding bass of a Keisha song had us breaking apart.

But instead of taking me back to the table, Brady towed me around the corner that separated the lounge area from the VIP restrooms. He lowered his head, his focus entirely on my lips. “I’m taking that kiss now, Lennox.”

The way he kissed me with restrained hunger had me throwing caution to the wind. He wanted me wild? He’d have to make me that way. But I was beginning to understand the gentleman needed permission to step outside the boundaries he was used to.

I slid my hands up his chest and pushed him back.

He locked his hot gaze to mine and waited.

“Show me that wild man, Brady.”

The gleam in his eyes made my entire body tingle. He crowded me against the wall. One hand fisted in my hair; the other gripped my hip. He shoved his knee between my thighs. He slammed his mouth down on mine the same time he pushed up so I was intimately pressed against his quad.

This kiss was volcanic.

Each hot stroke of his tongue sent a burst of liquid heat through me. Just when I thought he’d retreat, he retreated only far enough to take the kiss even deeper, so I felt his heat, his need, his overwhelming passion in every cell in my body. His grip on my hair kept my head right where he wanted it so he could plunder my mouth however he pleased. When I started to move my pelvis forward, trying to get more friction, his grip on my hip forced me to remain still. To let him set the pace.

My whole life I’d avoided men with this powerful, raw sexuality. I chose men I could control and bend to my will. Although I’d goaded Brady into showing me this side of him, I expected to be able to control my reaction to him.

Not so.

Not at all.

When he broke the seal of our lips and placed sucking kisses down the front of my throat, I tried to chase his mouth because I wasn’t nearly done kissing him.