He licked her neck and shook the salt onto the wet spot, then traded the salt for a lime wedge. His licked the salt, shot the tequila, then sucked on the lime. Lick. Shoot. Suck. He repeated the actions—pretending to shoot more tequila—on the other side of her neck, then he let out a low growl and claimed his territory at the hollow of her throat and her cleavage.
Sterling started to giggle breathlessly. “Hey, that’s not part of a body shot.”
His eyes pierced hers with a smoldering glare, but then moved down her body, licking the side of her knee and ankle.
Her head swam with desire. The sight of his pink tongue in contact with her skin turned her on more than anything. The knowledge that people could be watching them, witnessing this intimate encounter, only fueled her lust higher, faster…deeper.
He returned to the top half of her body and ended with a kiss.
“We’ll have to continue this in our hotel room,” he whispered. “There are a lot of other parts I’d like to lick underneath that dress.”
She sucked in a deep breath. She was all on board.
He grinned at her reaction. “Too bad I’m not done with you here yet.”
She sat up but he kept her seated on the bar, her legs dangling over the edge, and ordered two beers. He stood between her thighs, sipping on his beer. It took all the willpower she could muster not to launch off the bar into his arms and ravish him in public. She tamped down her libido and initiated small talk.
With a smile, he said, “Are you ready to salsa?”
“You salsa?”
“Don’t look so surprised.”
She was very surprised. He just didn’t look like a dancer. Although she knew firsthand he had great moves in the bedroom.
“My last name may be Vaughn, but my mother’s maiden name was Ramirez.” He punched out the word mother with a bitterness she’d never heard in his voice before.
“You’re half Latino?”
“Puerto Rican, to be exact.” He poured two shots. Was one of those for her?
“I had no idea.” It would explain his darker complexion. “You really are full of surprises.”
She glanced around the room. Men and women twisted and twirled in a sensuous rhythm all over the dance floor. Their feet moved in time to the music, their bodies swayed to the beat. They moved as one entity, even though they each had their own part to play.
She focused her attention back to the bar. Jack handed her the shot. The smell flooded her nostrils, singeing her airway.
“Sterling Andrews, do you swear to dance, drink, and surrender yourself to the music?”
She was definitely in for surrendering—but it wasn’t to the music.
She glanced over to the dance floor. Excitement sparked in her stomach. Dancing looked like fun. Being wrapped in Jack’s arms, writhing and grinding in public, looked like even more fun. “You can teach me to do that?”
He nodded. A wicked gleam deepened in his brown eyes.
Jack licked his hand and sprinkled salt on his skin. He grabbed the shot with one hand and the lime wedge with the other. Hopefully he’d have enough alcohol to cloud his brain when he tried to remember how much of an embarrassment she was on the dance floor.
She followed his direction, readying her own shot. What the hell did she have to lose? She held up her glass and said, “I surrender.”
They clinked glasses.
Lick. Shoot. Suck.
Before she knew it, she held his hand as he guided her out onto the dance floor.
They started out with simple side-to-side movements. The heat made her light-headed—which could very well have been from the man holding her close. He impressed her in so many ways in the short time they’d known each other, but the way he moved on the dance floor sent every one of her erogenous zones into overdrive. The man was all sex, pure sin. And he was hers for the night.
They visited the bar between lessons, although after two shots, she was done drinking. She was actually having fun. She never would have thought she’d be the type of person who could loosen up without the alcohol. But she was loose and ready to surrender.