I lean down, put my lips close to her ear, and whisper, “Not until you say uncle.”
Before I pull away from her, I give her a soft kiss on the side of her neck, just to see how much she likes it. It’ll just be a matter of time before she asks for more and kisses me back.
And like I predicted, she moans. Inching forward, she presses against me, and I can feel her give into whatever fantasy that’s been running through her mind since the moment she caught me in the cake room. She looks into my eyes and smiles at me, parting her lips in invitation.
I’m about ready to RSVP with my tongue when I get a much better idea—one I think she’s going to like. But it’s going to take all the willpower I have not to kiss her right here and now.
I dodge her lips, kiss her on the cheek, and back away. Then, I take her by the hand and start weaving through the crowd.
“What are you doing?” she asks, raising her voice to be heard over the music. “I thought you wanted me to dance with you.”
“I think you’re ready for a private lesson.”
“What does that mean?”
She stops in the middle of the dance floor, pulls her hand away, and folds her arms across her chest, waiting for an answer. She wants to know what she’s getting herself into, but that’s a question only she can answer.
“I can teach you any move you want. Whatever fantasy you have, I’ll make it happen. No judgments. All you have to do is ask.”
Her face turns bright red. She can pretend all she wants that she didn’t like what she saw, but I can see right through her, and she knows it. This girl has cravings, too, and I plan to satisfy each and every one before the night is over.
But I’ve lost my chance to make her feel like the only woman in the room, so I try another approach, something nonthreatening and straight to the point.
“Do you really want to stay here all night and do the chicken dance? Or do you want to come with me and dance more intimately, preferably with no pants?”
Now the choice is hers. I can see the wheels turning in her head. She knows she should say no to sloppy seconds, and I really wouldn’t blame her if she did, but I think we both know the alternative is not nearly as fun.
Finally, she cracks a smile.
“I fucking hate the chicken dance.”
“Good girl. There must be an empty room around here somewhere. Maybe I’ll even lock the door this time.”
She pauses for a moment, twisting her hands nervously as she considers my invitation. I can tell she’s a really nice girl, and she already knows I’m a really bad boy.
Which is exactly why I know she’s going to say yes.
Soon, I’ll get another glimpse of that ravenous look she was giving me.
She smiles deviously. “I think we should leave it open.”
Chapter 4
Mira
I follow him. I don’t know why, but I go off instinct and listen to the burning desire inside of me that tells me to.
I want this man, and I want to do things to him that I’ve only heard of—things that people shy away from or side-eye. And I don’t know why.
I’m sure he’s an expert in everything. And there’s nothing better than having a hands-on lesson with an expert. People pay a shit ton for that experience, and I’m greedily getting it for free.
And I’m sure this sounds crazy, and it’s not something I do regularly—or ever—but here I am. My hand in his, letting him lead me wherever he wants.
But I’m still a bit curious…
“Where are we going?” I spat out at him.
I’m not annoyed in the slightest; our banter is fucking fun, and I want to keep it going.