Before I could respond, his hand was in mine, the other sliding around my lower back, and we were twirling across the dance floor.
With our joined palms raised up and out, he swept me away from the entwined couples in our path, leading the steps with shocking ease. My free hand clung to his shoulder blade, my two-step gliding with fluid memory.
He held me close, closer than one should to pull off a foxtrot. But his feet stayed clear of mine, our movements synchronized, our chemistry out of the fucking stratosphere. When he brought our hands between us, holding mine against his chest and the confident glide of his body guiding me over the floor, the sum of all my desires surged through my veins like liquid fire. This was the sexiest dance in existence.
The thump of his heart beat against mine as our chests and thighs slid together. God, he looked great, smelled great, and when he spun me in an underarm turn, I never wanted the greatness to end.
But the song was coming to a close. Would he dance through another? Would he leave me with a parting kiss?
I searched his face, and he stared back with a burning glow in his eyes. If that wasn’t an answer, the dip of his head and the crush of his lips was. Our tongues tangled, our bodies heated with perspiration, our hands grabbing and stroking and yanking.
I pulled back. “I’ll get my purse.”
He captured my face in the grip of his hands and kissed me again with a ferocity that left my head spinning and my pulse thundering. “Gotta grab my jacket. I’ll meet you outside.”
He headed to the coat room while I raced to the bar. There, I zipped a text off to Collin.
Me: leaving with him
Collin: Mr. Scorching?
Me: too risky?
Collin: Does he know who you are?
Me: don’t think so
Collin: Be careful hooker
Me: always punk
Collin didn’t judge me. He never did, but we lived and worked in a society of double standards. Very few would bat an eye at a man who crawled from one bed to another, because Oh, men are just horny. They need to fuck and spread their seed.
But what was the general perception of a woman who sucked a man’s cock and five nights later went home with a different man? A skank? A whore? A shallow slut?
How many of those so-called sluts were simply lonely? Searching for a meaningful connection in a smile or an embrace or an orgasm? How many were hoping to find a forever connection?
It took courage and confidence to put yourself out there, to swallow the rejection and hurt that would undoubtedly come, then go right back out there and try again.
I wanted to be one of those brave women with the whole of my heart, but my circumstances were snarled with restrictions. Even if I found forever in a one-night stand, I couldn’t keep it.
I held that thought at the surface as I strode through the exit. But the moment I stepped outside, the ugly seed of insecurity lodged in my throat. What if he changed his mind and left? Or never planned to wait at all?
It was unseasonably warm for September in Chicago, and I hadn’t brought a coat. As I turned to glance down the street, a soft suede jacket was slung over my shoulders.
His gorgeous face filled my view, haloed by the glow of the streetlights. Relief settled over me, curling my lips.
He gripped my hand. "Let's roll."
His long-legged strides ate up the sidewalk, and I struggled to keep up with him.
“In a hurry, Logan?” My feet burned in the heels, but I jogged to catch up to his side. “Where are we going?”
With his hold on my hand, he tugged me into the next alcove and pinned my back against the stone veneer. He braced his elbows on the wall on either side of my head. The weight of his body pressed into mine, shooting my heart rate from zero to ninety.
He lowered his head, and his lips traced my jaw, lingering on the sensitive spot below my ear. A shiver ran through me. The good kind of shiver that relaxed my muscles and returned me to my prior state of blissful attraction.
His tongue circled my ear lobe, drawing it into his mouth. He sucked on the diamond stud Collin had given me, lapping and biting, and released it before I gave into a fit of ticklish laughter.
“We’re going to a hotel.” He nodded his head at the door beside me.
The sign above it read The Bells Hotel.
Oh. It took me by surprise. Maybe because I didn’t know a hotel was here. Maybe because I assumed we would be going back to his place. “Do you live—?”
“I’m just passing through for the night.”
Another surprise. But thinking on it, we hadn’t talked, hadn’t shared any personal information. I glanced up into his stunning eyes. “Where are you from?”