Deep Surrendering (Episode Three) by Chelsea M. Cameron Page B

of our movements before he joined me, molding our hips together to move as one.
    Of course he could dance. I’d never doubted it, really, but how could this man who was so incredibly sexy already also be a good dancer? It wasn’t possible. No one was this blessed in the looks department and the brain department and the dancing department. No one.
    But there we were, dancing together as if we’d been partners for years. As if he knew how my body moved in the same way he knew his own. We breathed in unison and sweat beaded on my skin. There wasn’t much room to maneuver, but Fin and I found our little spot and claimed it.
    The beat coursed through me, taking over my own heartbeat. I was consumed by the music and the movement and Fin’s touch.
    I couldn’t stand not being able to see him, so I turned in his arms so I could look up in his face.
    Dark hair fell over his forehead and almost obscured his eyes. I brushed it back and was struck by the intensity in them. It was the same intensity I felt when he plunged inside me. Roping my arms around his neck, I grinded my hips against him and was rewarded by him biting the corner of his lip.
    His head dipped down to say something in my ear.
    “If you keep that up, I’m going to take you to the restroom and fuck you and I don’t care who’s watching. I might just do it right here.” His hand ran down my backside, and if he reached just a bit he could…
    “Oh, God,” I said, holding on to him for dear life.
    “Do you want me to screw you in the bathroom of this club where anyone could see us? Do you want to watch us in the dirty mirror?”
    Well, not particularly, but not because it wasn’t sexy. I just didn’t think a bathroom was a very sexy place. Now if there were a corner with a nice couch or something, that would be another story.
    “Or maybe that’s not what you want. Maybe you want me to call a cab and let me have my way with you in the backseat.” Okay, we were getting warmer. Well, I was getting warmer. We’d all but stopped dancing, so intent on our conversation. I couldn’t deal with the desire in his eyes, so I rested my head on his chest.
    “Or maybe, what you want most of all, is for me to take you back to my place and slowly remove this outfit before laying you on my bed and tasting every inch of your skin, tasting the sweetness here,” he said, running his hand down the front of my skirt and making me squirm.
    “And then take you slowly. So slowly until you can’t bear it anymore and beg me for more.” My knees wobbled, and it was a good thing he held me up, because I might have collapsed otherwise.
    “Is that what you want?”
    I had to gather my thoughts before I could speak. “I want to see you. I want to see you when we’re together. I want to touch you and taste you and make you feel like you’re cherished.” I didn’t know where the words had come from, but they felt right when I said them.
    Fin knew about fucking. About the joining of two bodies only for the purpose of pleasure. But the connection, that was what he missed. What he needed. What I could give him.
    “I don’t know if I can give you that. But I want to,” he said, his voice faltering for a second.
    “Let’s dance a bit longer first,” I said, turning back around. I could feel him straining against his pants behind me. Maybe the dancing wasn’t going to work out.
    “On second thought, we should probably get going,” I said, turning once again to face him. I thought about running my hand down the front of his jeans, but that probably wouldn’t help the situation in his pants.

 
     
     
     
     
     
    Fin put his hands on my shoulders and steered me through the crowd. Partially so I wouldn’t get bumped around by the more aggressive dancers, but also so I could hide the bulge in his pants.
    As always, Carl was outside and waiting. I was beginning to suspect he was a ninja. He tipped his hat at us and gave no outward sign that anything was amiss. Nothing to see