Page 42 of Wicked (Wicked Billionaires #2)

RAVEN

My private teacher has apparently learned to dance at a near-pro level, and I don’t like it. I try not to imagine him dancing with another woman, but it’s hard. The idea of Dante dancing, and sexily, with anyone else does not help me focus.

As I spin back in the sleek satin gown, Dante pulls me in fast.

We do the same moves three times, and then he breaks it up. I’d forgotten to tell Dante, in NY I’d taken salsa lessons.

Only twenty-four, but I can hold my own, especially when I’m into it, like now.

As we move around the dance floor, I realize Dante is taking us to the side, away from the crowd.

I let him have his way, as I usually do, and we dance into a corner and under the trees. I know people are watching, but I don’t mind today.

I feel alive, like never before.

The next time Dante spins me out hard and fast, I pause at the end. I then spin ultra-fast back into and against him.

I pause for a split second against his crotch, and I, too, can make my mark. Dante groans as my butt pushes against his crotch, and I hear him hiss near my ear.

As we spin around, he flicks me out again like a whip!

His whip!

We glide elegantly around the older and less skilled guests, and we mix up our styles. Our fingers are often linked, and Dante is confident, sure, and an expert.

Like in love making.

As I wait for Dante to pull me back in again, I lift my chin and raise my free arm higher. I even show off a little.

A couple of Italian men cheer, and I see my teacher scowl.

I spin around twice on the way back to him, and I slam against his chest. I then push my butt against his crotch.

Only serious salsa dancers would notice the extra pause or non-standard move. I would never do it under bright lights, but as we move on the side of the dance floor, we are under the trees and only lit by moonlight.

I place a palm on one of Dante’s hips, and I push off as he spins me again.

I grin darkly, knowing he is hardening. Hardening because of me.

As we pass each other again, our faces are inches away. “Vixen,” comes low, but it’s clear.

I smirk. Teasing is one of Dante’s primary manipulation tools. It’s now one of mine too! As we continue on, I feel more eyes on us. I don’t mind, because for once in my life, I feel confident, alive, and free.

“You’re distracted,” Dante says low in passing.

“Thinking,” I huff, inches from his face.

“About?”

“Education,” I say before biting his ear and spinning away.

On my return, I’m panting, hot, and I hear, “That’s good.”

Our eyes hold, and we spin around each other, mixing up our moves. “And the next class?”

Before Dante can answer, we notice several new men watching us. They are all striking, and they are all impeccably dressed in black suits. They also look dangerous.

“Who are they?” I ask, nervous.

As Dante circles me, he brings me in closer and slower. He appears serious, and the exciting, electric moment we had is gone.

“They’re…”

“Who?”

“You don’t want to know,” he says, pulling me in close. As we move slow, chest to chest, I have time to think. He has to mean mafia.

I try not to look at them, but carefully, I do. For dangerous guys, they’re hot, as hot as I’ve ever seen. Feeling their eyes on me is scary, but it also sends a thrilling energy down my spine.

I peer back at Dante, and he looks serious. Serious, protective, and hot. My heart pounds with adrenaline, and it’s confusing, dangerous, and sexy.