stopped and then ran wild.
His mouth poised over hers as he began to move to the music. She hung there, waiting, breathless. Her feet followed where his led, while the soft tune enveloped them timelessly. His breath touched her lips. She could almost taste the mint tea that had recently graced it, warmly scented. He wore cologne, because its spicy scent was in her nostrils, too. She watched his hard mouth hover; her body felt swollen with sensation. She became boneless, dependent on his strength to keep her upright as he moved and moved her to the slow, soft beat of the music.
As it ended, he turned sharply and lowered her against his side, so that her body was angled across the whole warm, muscular length of his. And while she clung to him to avoid falling backward, his head bent, and she felt the threat of his hard mouth just above hers for one long, sweet, heady second. If only he would bend, she thought breathlessly, just a fraction of an inch… If only, if only! Her nails bit into his shoulders and her lips parted in anticipation.
But he barely hesitated before he drew her back to her feet and moved away from her, holding her by the waist only for a few seconds before his arm dropped. He didn’t smile. His eyes searched hers, looking for secrets. She could barely breathe normally. Her face was flushed, her eyes blank from the brief, exciting threat of his lips. She looked at him disorientedly, confused, the lace at her breasts fluttering with the desperation of her heartbeats.
He stared back, unmoving, as the needle dragged against the cartridge with a scratchy sound that repeated unheard.