Page 23 of Resonance
“More?” I waggled my brows. “Care to try a tango?”
He gave a slight shake of his head. “Think I’m done for the night. Where’d you learn to dance like that? All self-taught?”
I swept some hair from my eyes. “In high school I had a part-time job at this little studio as a receptionist. But I spent a lot of my free time on the weekends there, too, and there was this one lady, Mara, who’d teach me on the side or let me come to her group classes and the dances on Saturday nights. That’s how I got into big band music.”
“You like big band, huh?” He gave me a skeptical look, and I shrugged.
“I like a little of everything, really. If you think about the whole pantheon of music, it’s kinda crazy: so many different sounds and genres, and each with their own vibes, like even in music we want to find some kind of niche or be categorized. I wanted that, too, wanted something that felt like mine. Like, these girls in high school that were all rockabilly cool with their coiled hair and retro dresses. It just emanated from them. That was theirplace, you know?” I bit my lip, wondering if I should stop, but Dan’s gaze remained steady on me, focused and curious. “So I listened to everything, waiting for something to click, waiting to know what was mine. And then figured I was just some weird vagrant, because I liked almosteverything.”
Dan was quiet a few moments, studying me sidelong.
“Where’d you come from?”
“Nowhere.” I shrugged. I wasn’t entirely sure he was asking what I thought he was asking, but something in the drawling way he’d spoken and the shift in expression from idle inquiry to keen interest gave me the idea his question had nothing to do with where I’d actually grown up.
Heat flooded the back of my neck.
Dan kept his eyes on me, gaze intent, and maybe we leaned at the same time, I didn’t know. My spine felt like a wick touched with a flame, sparks and promise crackling through me, and I couldn’t fucking believe this was about to happen. But boy, was I on board with it.
He stopped just short of my lips, one hand catching me by the throat to keep me from moving. Our eyes were inches from each other’s, and I could see tiny flecks in his I’d never noticed before, an amber warmth, faintly orange, the creases at the corners deepening, like a frown was on its way. I darted my tongue out to taste his lower lip before he could change his mind.
“Shit,” he muttered, and it didn’t exactly sound like a curse. His hand slid around to the back of my neck, and instead of pulling me away, he yanked me toward him with a grunt.
Dan’s lips were hot, sweet with cola and whiskey, and fucking soft. Soft like I’d never imagined they’d be for all the time they liked to spend in a scowl. He rumbled low in his throat, the sound shooting straight to my cock and standing it at attention as I swiveled around to press him against the dresser. I looped my arms around his neck and sank my hands into his hair, also softer than I’d imagined and so good sliding over my fingers.
His tongue met mine, hard and forceful but with a velvety slow cadence like blackstrap molasses dropping from a spoon. He pushed off the dresser, straightening and locking his hands around my hips.
We rattled around as gracelessly as loose dice, knocking against the dresser, our kisses growing fervent. It was breathless and rushed and fucking passionate in a way guys like Brent couldn’t touch.
Dan squeezed my ass, digging his fingers in the denim covering it, and I tore myself from his mouth to throw my head back with a moan because god it felt good having his hands on me like that. The strength and power in them, and the forceful pressure of his cock flush against me. He urged my mouth back to his, and I licked his lips, his tongue, his teeth, lapping at him with little skill but every ounce of desire I possessed.
When I jumped up, he caught me as if he’d anticipated the movement, and I wrapped my legs around his waist, whimpering at the hard friction of his groin against mine.
“More, fuck. Please more,” I begged. I wanted it bad, my mind already racing five steps ahead, trying to anticipate the weight of his body on mine, how fucking good it’d feel to have him grinding into me. Whether he’d fuck me slow or hard and fast.
Dan spun us around, seating me on the edge of the dresser and tugging my shirt up at the same time I fumbled ineffectively with the buttons on his. My fingers felt numb and huge. Giving up, I arched my back into his touch as his warm palm slid up my abs and curled around my shoulder. He bent to my neck, sucking noisily at the skin as I rolled my hips against him. Needy and desperate. I could feel it coming off him, too. Thick arousal that stifled the room with a different kind of heat.
I tunneled my fingers in his hair, stroked the soft ends, and sifted through the strands as he found my nipples and grazed his teeth over them.
“Let me suck you,” I whispered between kisses, and he stopped kissing me to lift his head and stare into my eyes, his own glossy and blown and so fucking wanton a shiver rocketed through me. This Dan was a stranger to me, but very much one I wanted to know better. “Please,” I whispered again without meaning to, but damn I wanted to get down on my knees and taste him, feel his release spilling salty in the back of my throat. It was one thing my mouth was definitely good for.
“Goddamn,” he growled into my mouth, and I heard him fumble with his zipper.
And then he stopped.
He blinked and licked his lips. Then came the kiss of death, the buzzkill: Dan sighed. “Shit.” This time it was definitely a curse, and one flavored with regret.
I tried to chase him as he leaned back, but I could see the haze clearing like clouds parting after a microburst.
He shook his head. “It’s not a good idea.”
“It’s a terrible idea. Who fucking cares? I’m horny, you’re horny, let’s do this.”
“I’m your boss, and we’re both drunk.”
“Speak for yourself,” I protested, but knew it was a lost cause. Didn’t mean I’d give up, though. “You don’t need to be sober to hook up. In fact, I’d argue this is the better situation since I might actually have a shot at lasting longer than a half second, because let me tell you…” I stopped midsentence and clapped a hand over my mouth, and then narrowed my eyes at him, shaking a finger at the dawning humor in his eyes. “You know what? No, you don’t get the flattery if you’re not offering the goods.”
“So you’re gonna withhold compliments because I’m trying to make the smart choice here? Is that the size of it?” His grip on me loosened, and then fell away altogether.