The Unearthing of Blackstone Page 18

  “Hey.” He slid his arm around her waist, drawing her close, nice and snug, and led her to the dance floor. She felt as if she had no control over her movements and simply followed his lead. Once again, his cologne sent her there; she had a thing for masculine scents. It did things to her, made her insides vibrate and, dare she admit it, raised the lust factor up a notch. His skin gave off a woodsy, spicy scent with a hint of ginger lily, alluring and rich.

  “Let’s stand over here. These guys are getting ready to salsa. Let’s watch and then, you can dive in.”

  “I doubt I can dive in.” She laughed and rolled her eyes. “I’m not I’d classify as a good Latin dancer, Ace. I can do basic stuff, and trust me, I’ve seen plenty of dancing like this all around the world and I’m just not cut out for it.” She hated that her nerves were getting the best of her. Normally, she’d jump into something like this not giving one damn about how awkward she may appear, but with him, well, she didn’t want to look too silly this evening.

  He glanced down at her legs and feet. “You will be just fine. Your legs were made to tear up a dance floor.”

  “Hmmmm, flattery will not turn me into a female Fred Astaire.”

  “It won’t hurt, and if need be, do you need a little taste to loosen you up?” He shot her a glance, his upper lip lifting ever so slightly at the corner, giving him an air of mischief — and a man up to no good. “You’re kinda rigid, like you need to take the edge off.” He pointed to the bar.

  Did he really just call me rigid?! Well, I am, but damn!

  She forced a smile, wishing to appear unfettered. “No, I’m good.”

  “Yes, you are...” He released her and casually walked a few feet ahead.

  She looked at him, trying to read between the lines, but he kept his face turned straight ahead, watching and observing. He expected her to do the same, but instead, she focused on the way his body swayed to the beat, then scanned the room. Just like when they’d met, women were eyeing him and once again, he seemed totally oblivious.

  “Men are looking at you…”

  His words made her damn heart stop and plop to her toes. That uncanny, creepy shit was happening all over again. She smiled and shook her head. What else could she do?

  “I don’t see what you’re talking about and besides, I’m here with you so it doesn’t matter,” she said.

  “You’ve been looking at all the women in the room, not the men.” He motioned for her to get close and she heeded that call. Before she knew it, the man’s arm was wrapped around her waist, while he continued to bob his head and look straight ahead towards the dance floor. Her body warmed as she became flustered with internal heat. “No need to try to say otherwise. Anyway, you didn’t notice the men. Many of them find you attractive, but you don’t pay attention because you’ve had years of practice on how to block them out. I bring this up to let you know that I feel like the luckiest bastard in this damn room. You’re here with me, and that means a hell of a lot. Now, the song is almost over, and it is time for your first salsa lesson. Are you ready?”

  “But you said tango when we first discussed this! Oh no, I can’t salsa, Ace!”

  Before she could finish her protest, he dragged her farther onto the dance floor and held her close while the first song finished. The second one began, and his deep voice vibrated in her ear as he held her tight, pressing his groin into her. She sighed aloud, unable to control herself when she felt the damn monster between his legs twitch against her gut.

  “Believe me, you will be a natural at this…Now, pay attention.” He veered back from her, holding her wrists out. “Now, just stand there and watch me…” Suddenly the salsa music seemed to grow louder as he began to twist his body. She’d never seen anything like that. He looked so serious as he moved effortlessly to the beat.

  “One, two, three…five, six seven. One, two, three, five, six, seven…Watch my waist, watch my feet. It’s all in the timing. Timing is what makes the dance work. You wanna start with a basic step, step one. Move your left foot like me,” he yelled over the music.

  “That should be easy, since I have two of ’em!”

  “Two of what?!”

  She rolled her eyes; he was so engrossed in teaching her, he’d missed the joke.

  “Two left feet!”

  He grinned for a fleeting moment, then drew serious again.

  Following his lead, she felt like a damn fool. She believed she appeared clumsy and awkward, and here he had her in front of all of these damned people, letting them know without a shadow of a doubt that her dancing bone didn’t exist.

  “Good, I told you that you’d be fine,” he encouraged. “One, two, three. The fourth step is your pause, now step back with your right foot…yeah…you are getting it!” He grinned.

  She felt a bit better, he was right. It wasn’t so bad after all. As soon as he ushered her into a comfortable groove, gliding into the moment, melting into the element, he snatched her so tight to his frame, she gasped. She found herself unable to utter a word when his fingers pushed into the small of her back while he still held her wrist high in the air.

  He was still doing the steps, faster and faster, daring her to slow down, lest she get left in the dust. His green eyes darkened as the vibrant, colorful lights spun around them. They whirled about like umbrellas in a cocktail glass, turning her dizzy and light-headed. Everything transported her to another world — the thumping music, his intense stare, the way he held her so close she could hear his breathing, ironically in time to the tune.

  She heard him swallow as she placed her forehead on his chest and danced like her life depended upon it. His muscular, hard body pressing into hers turned her on, churning up the naughty girl just below the surface. If the man propositioned her, she’d be in his damn bed, naked and ready, sooner rather than later.

  “Are you enjoying yourself?” His lips brushed softly against her ear lobe as he continued his sexy moves. He stood too close to her to be doing the salsa effectively. They were so ensnared, they probably seemed like one person with four legs, an extension of each other.

  She nestled her mouth next to his earlobe and wrapped her fingers tighter around his own. With a squeeze, he acknowledged the touch, the closeness she craved. He heard her though she hadn’t said a word.

  He heard her heart.

  “I am, I really am.” She smiled wide, accidentally bumping her lips onto the side of his neck. “Oh, damn it. I got lipstick on your ear.” When she paused to wipe it away with her thumb, he gripped her chin and brought her to him so close, her nipples compressed against his chest. His breaths came out harsh as he pressed his mouth unapologetically into hers. He slid his fingers real slow up and down her back, and for the love of all worthy and holy, the man was still dancing, though at a much slower pace. At each turn, he thrust his tongue in her mouth, to the damned beat. At each lunge, he pressed his nature harder into her. It sure as hell wasn’t a sock in his pocket. To regroup, she broke away for a split second, then glanced down between them to note his pants slightly tented.

  My, my, my…and he probably isn’t even fully erect.

  She turned away, disgusted that she was going down her all too familiar perverted path with this man. But he didn’t let up. Grabbing her by the back of her head, messing her do up — the one she’d spent thirty-two minutes and five seconds working on with a curling wand that left her confused and burnt her pinky finger — he reeled her in.

  “Where do you think you’re goin’, hmmm?” He grinded forcefully into her pelvis as they continued to dance, bumping into her over and over, hiking her shirt in the process. His scent had transferred all over her, his soft lips brushed against her face and his touch made her pussy pulsate.

  He is fucking me on this dance floor!

  Should she smack the daylights out of him or whisk him away into a bathroom stall to finish the deal? Before she could make up her mind, the music softened into a whisper, his dancing ceased, and he turned away from her to clap, giving t
hanks to the band.

  When he turned back towards her, she swallowed hard and tried to steady her frantic heart. He took her hand, his touch gentle, and led her to the bar as if not a damn thing had happened. But oh, it had…and her pussy had sprung a leak in her panties that required a professional clean up on aisle four…

  ~***~

  Ace sat at the bar with the woman of his dreams and whooped himself good. He wasn’t sure exactly what had happened. His intention was to teach her to salsa and tease her a bit, play on her desire to ‘dirty dance.’ Instead, and with no control of his own, his body responded to the movements and the music, and he found himself trying to practically impregnate her on the fucking dance floor. If she wasn’t so damn receptive, he could have calmed down. But then, her stiff nipples rubbed against his shirt as he ran his hand along her back, driving him insane. While holding her close, someone bumped into him ever so slightly, causing his hand to break free and brush against her thigh. He felt a slight coolness…she was wet. A faint moan escaped her lips as his dick responded to the discovery.

  He decided to shut the shit down, to pull himself together, or he’d end up taking her somewhere to finish what he’d started. So when the music stopped, he thanked God and gave the man upstairs a ‘high five.’ They sat down at the bar and he enjoyed listening to her talk about her job as he curled next to her, grinning from ear to ear with a cigarette dangling between his fingers. She’d replaced her glasses with contact lenses, giving him a glimpse of the woman he’d seen the very first time he met her.

  “You look good with glasses and without them,” he said as their beer bottles were replaced with fresh ones.

  She twirled around in her seat, her brow arched. “Now, where the hell did that come from?” She chortled.

  “I was just looking at you, doing a comparison in my mind.” He pointed to his forehead.

  “Don’t hurt yaself,” she teased.

  “Hurt myself with thought?” Aching to touch her, he ran his hand along her leg. She looked down at his hands sliding back and forth against her fitted, dark jeans. “If thinking hurts, then I guess I like to live dangerously.”

  She clasped her hand over his, stopping his maneuvers, but imprisoning him there.

  Gripping her beer bottle, she took a healthy swig. He noticed excessive blinking, and looked away to hide a grin. When he turned back to her, he noticed his reflection in her eyes. Light jumped off of the glasses above their heads, and there he was replicated in her iris, concave. The reflection made him feel confused, guilty, and introspective. His face must’ve told on him.

  “What’s on your mind? Why are you frowning?” Her smile was wide, her lips covered in matte, nude lipstick.

  “What would you say if…I told you I had a fantasy about you? About being your man…”

  She tilted her head to the side, holding tight to the brown neck of her beer bottle. “Hmmm…” Her smile grew wider as she looked down into her lap.

  “I don’t want you seeing anyone else…Are you? I just want to get to know you, exclusively.”

  “Well, isn’t that something…” She tipped her head back and took another sip of her beer. “How would I know that you are worth getting rid of all my other guys for?” she joked, eliciting a half-hearted laugh.

  He found it unnerving that the words evoked a bit of jealousy inside of him, nonetheless.

  “I’m worth it.” He wrapped his hand tighter around hers.

  “Ace, what are you up to?”

  “I’m up to nothing. I’m down for whatever…so, what do you want to get into?”

  She winked at him and slid her tongue slowly across her upper lip.

  “I think you’ve had too much to drink.” He smirked.

  “Hmmm, maybe.” She looked at him from the corner of her eye as she bobbed about on the bar stool, rotating to the music.

  “It’s time to have an adult conversation, Brooklyn. There is a situation we’ve been dancing around.”

  “And that is?” After taking another swig of beer, she leaned back against the bar, her arm hanging loosely from the bar rail.

  “Sex.”

  “Hmmmm, interesting topic. What do you think about sex, Ace?” she asked in a low voice, her gaze averted.

  His groin stirred.

  “We’ve been flirting with one another for weeks. There’s been a lot of sexual innuendos going back and forth.”

  She laughed lightly.

  “We’re both grown ups, so let’s not play games.”

  At those words, she put on an astonished face. He barely contained himself from rolling his eyes at her theatrics.

  “We both want it, okay? Our last conversation was rather intense. Anyway, allow me to let you know where my head is at regarding this.”

  She shot him a glance, and they both burst out laughing.

  “Is nothing I say off limits?!” He chuckled. “Anyway, seriously though, I won’t have sex with you unless you tell me that we are going to see each other exclusively.”

  He didn’t miss the smile fade from her gorgeous face.

  Pausing, she tilted her head. “You’re really serious…”

  “You’re damn right I’m serious. I’m hemming you in. I wouldn’t joke about something like that.” He gently reached over and brushed a few strands of hair out of her face, eliciting a shy grin.

  “A man asking for a commitment before sex…” Shaking her head in disbelief, she swiveled on her stool. “You are definitely a strange bird, Ace Blackstone — strange, in a good way. I guess that’s admirable. It’s just,” she shrugged and turned away from him, staring into space, “you don’t really hear guys say that sort of thing, is all.”

  He cleared his throat and faced the dance floor, observing the people milling about. “I told you that I wanted to get to know you. I meant that. I don’t want to blow this, Brooklyn. We talk practically every day, we text each other, we’ve finally managed to go out again, and I’m not trying to let this opportunity go, to just have it ruined because I can’t control myself.”

  She nodded, smiling. He wondered what she was thinking, what was going on inside of her gorgeous, complicated head.

  “The situation on the dance floor? Yeah, that was beautiful.” He laughed. “But to go further than that we need to have a serious discussion beforehand. I really like you. This is important to me, Brooklyn.”

  “Wow.” She appeared truly speechless. The woman spoke eloquently, and even veered towards long-winded, but now, he’d actually stumped her. He supposed that was a good thing.

  “Look, you already know I want to be intimate with you. You’re beautiful, but if we are going to take it there, then I need to be the only man that you’re seeing. I can’t compromise on this.”

  “Are you the jealous type, Ace?” she said, her expression flat, but something simmered in her tone, something beneath the surface.

  “Not in the least, but with you I do feel a bit possessive. I’ll admit to that. I don’t want anyone to get next to what I have…”

  There it was again, that shy grin he was growing to love.

  “You have me?” she asked, not daring to look him in the eye.

  “This is not even up for discussion.” He grabbed a toothpick from the bar table, thrust it in his mouth and twirled it around and around as he worked the nerve to finish his declaration. “You’re mine.”

  And he meant that shit.

  She turned towards him, but no words flowed from her mouth in answer to that possessive declaration. They simply stared at one another, understanding that everything was about to go from one to ten in a millisecond. Then, her eyes dulled; sadness darkened her expression. He wanted to know so desperately what thoughts floated in her mind, to ease her worries away. He took her hand and squeezed it gently.

  Alrighty then, let’s take this conversation elsewhere.

  Reaching behind him, he pulled his wallet out his back pocket. He paid the bartender, took her by the wrist, and led her through the amped crowd. T
hey stood outside the club, clutching onto one another, taking in the moment. Wrapping her warm arms around his body, Brooklyn rose on her tippy toes and kissed him. Soft, sweet, perfect. He kissed her back, hugging her a bit tighter as he returned the act of affection. Then he forced himself to pull away, led her to his black Bentley and opened the passenger side. She slid inside, mumbling under her breath.

  “…I must be crazy.”

  He lifted her chin and stared into her eyes. “And I’m the nut-job guy who likes you just the way you are…”

  Smiling, she looked away. As he got in and pulled away from the curb, a welcome silence settled between them, giving them each a moment to gather their thoughts. He held her hand, while she looked at the world pass by beyond her window.

  “You’re not crazy.” He pulled his fingers away from hers and gripped the steering wheel with both hands. “Look, I’ve got feelings for you, Brooklyn. I don’t fall in love fast, none of that…but I care about you and I want this to go somewhere. I just want to be clear about how I feel.”

  “I…understand. I feel something with you, too. And I do feel a bit crazy, actually. We have—”

  “A lot of chemistry, a strong connection…” he completed her sentence and she nodded emphatically.

  “Like…I think about you all the time. This doesn’t seem like a second date, it feels like the one-hundredth time. We talk on the phone and when we’re not talking, I’m thinking about you. I was so glad I did this, I’m glad you didn’t let me back out after our first date, and I’m glad that you called me, and that, well, we’ve got something here. I really like this. It feels right.” She looked at him in earnest.