Page 56 of Enticing the Elf
He grins at me and follows suit, and then we race each other down the stairs to the crowded dance floor.
Being pressed up against Dáithí is always my idea of a good time. Pressed up against him while he moves to the beat, head thrown back, exulting in the music?
Fucking outstanding.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Dáithí
How is dancingwith hundreds of other people in a hot, too-small space one of the most transcendental experiences a person can have? Logically, it makes no sense, but when I’m crammed onto a dance floor and the music takes me over, every stress I have disappears. My mind clears, and for a short time, I understand what it means to be one with the universe. It’s always been that way, even back home. Even when the dance floor was a clearing in a tréghel forest.
The only other thing that can get me to that place is good sex, but it’s different. When I dance, it’s just me there, even if I’m surrounded by others. Sex shares the experience with another person—which is probably why not every orgasm can get me there. Opening your soul to merge with existence makes you vulnerable beyond the physical, and I wouldn’t want that with every person I’ve fucked.
I might be drunk. Merging with existence isn’t something I usually think about, whether via dancing or sex.
Throwing my arms around Eoin’s neck, I press my whole body against his and shout, “I always merge with the universe when you fuck me!”
He makes a confused face and shakes his head. “I can’t hear you properly,” he yells back, and I make the executive decision that it’s time for another break from dancing. I need to piss anyway.
Grabbing his hand, I begin pushing through the crowd toward the stairs, and it only takes Eoin a second to catch on and move ahead of me. He’s notthatmuch bigger than me, but somehow people react like he’s seven feet tall and three feet wide, parting easily to let him through. I take advantage of it, but that doesn’t mean I don’t resent them for not doing the same for me. Don’t they understand the power I have?
“I could cut them off from the good printer!” I proclaim as we reach the velvet rope at the bottom of the stairs. Eoin and the bouncer stationed there both look at me, Eoin with fondness, the bouncer with an eye roll. Clearly he doesn’t understand how much power I have either.
He does see our wristbands, though, and unhooks the rope to let us through. The stairs are swaying just enough to make walking up them a challenge, but Eoin puts a hand on my back to guide me. He’s the best.
“I’m having such a great time,” I tell him. “Bathroom break, more drinks because my mouth’s dry, and then back to dancing.” It’s already nearly two, and I’m determined to make the most of every minute we have before closing.
“You’re the boss.”
I pause on the steps to give him a sexy smirk. “I like being the boss of you, but sometimes it’s fun for you to be the boss of me.”
His gaze darkens, and he steals a kiss. “I like it both ways. Maybe when you’re sober we can talk about it some more.”
“Yes! You can sober me up when we get home and then we can fuck till we pass out.” Talk about the perfect end to the perfect night.
Eoin chuckles and nudges me to get started up the stairs again. “Sure, baby. What were you saying downstairs? I don’t think I heard it right.”
I said something downstairs? Oh! “When you fuck me, I always merge with the universe.”
The sudden dead silence is my first hint that we’ve stepped through the ward at the top of the stairs. My second hint is the laughter that breaks out. I guess everyone in the VIP area heard me.
“We could have timed that better,” Eoin says, but he doesn’t sound mad, and he’s grinning.
“Oops?” We head toward our tables, where a few of our friends are—most are downstairs.
“Merge with the universe?” Ari asks, his face alight with laughter. “Is that a euphemism?”
I slide into the seat across from him, pulling Eoin down beside me, and jab a finger in his direction. “You only wish you could make someone come that hard. Which reminds me, I’m still mad at you.”
“How do those two things connect?” Eoin wonders out loud, waving our server off as she comes to see if we need anything. Our latest bottle—the third for our table—isn’t empty yet, and last time we came back up, we ordered a couple of rounds of other drinks too. One of mine is still half full, and I pick it up and take a sip now.
“You can’t just go around accusing people of things,” I continue, shaking my head. “And definitely you can’t accuse my friends of things. It’s rude, Ari, and I’m so ashamed of you.”
“He wasn’t your friend until this morning,” Ari mutters.
“That’s irrev—ivver—irrerel— It’s not the point!”
“Irrelevant,” Eoin murmurs, and I pat his arm in thanks. “What are we talking about, exactly? Why are you mad, and isthis one of those situations when I should be mad, too, or are you handling it?”