“Dance with me?” Neil says in my ear.
Oh, whatdahell! One dance wouldn’t kill me! Not with him smelling like that. Spice, lemon and ice. I take a deep breath and nod my head. Neil grins and takes my hand, leading me towards the dance floor.
We start dancing and damn this guy. He starts swinging it like Travolta and grinding it like Swayze, while all I can do is stare at him with my mouth agape, trying my best to ignore the blatant lustful looks being thrown at him by all the people surrounding us. And when I say people, I mean people. Both girls and guys.
With a sudden tug, he pulls me towards him and our bodies collide. “Let it go, Angel,” he whispers in my ear as his fingers graze my bare waist and hook into my jeans. I put my hands on his hard biceps and gasp as my breasts press against his chest. And then we start moving. With his thigh between my legs, he guides my body into a rhythm that is wild, erotic and fun. As I lose myself to the beat of the music, my hands trail up his arms to twine around his neck. With his face an inch apart from mine, eyes unwavering, he tracks my each and every move. He dips me, brings me up, holds me close and never lets go. When the song finishes, I don’t know how long we’ve been dancing, I just know that I’ll never be the same again. Can a single dance change someone’s life? Because it certainly feels like it’s changed mine.