Page 31 of Ambiguous
“Do you want to?”
I smile. “I very much want to dance with you.” His smile back makes my heart rate increase.
“Okay. Let’s dance, then. I can teach you a few steps, although I’m sure you’re a natural dancer, given how you move on stage.”
“You’ve seen that, have you?”
“Not in person. Only on YouTube. Come on.”
While I want to know more, I usher him to an area with a few square feet of concrete, where we can move but won’t be disturbed.
As he directs me to put one hand on his waist and the other on his shoulder, I realize this is way more romantic than I bargained for. And I kind of wanted it to be romantic. But we’re two men in tuxedos in a garden in the moonlight—fairy lights hung in the trees and a band playing—and we’re about to dance.
It isn’t just how good he looks or smells, but how he feels next to me.
This man belongs in my arms.
No wonder our grandparents and great-grandparents spent so much time dancing. It’s sexy as fuck to be this close. My cock is noticing our proximity and likes it very much.
I see sparkles in his eyes—maybe from the fairy lights—and he swallows hard.
“Okay,” he says, his voice raspy. “On the count of three, you take one step back with your left leg, and I’ll take a step forward. One, two, three.”
I do it, and he moves with me.
“Then take one step to the side, this way”—he taps my leg—“and bring your other foot to meet it.”
We move together.
“Take one step forward. That is, you go forward, and I go back.” We do. “And then repeat.”
This time I cock it up, and we crash into each other, chest to chest. I grab him to keep from toppling over.
A laugh bursts out of me. “Not ready forStrictly Come Dancing.”
“Keep going. We can do this. Now, we repeat.”
I nod. “Shall we do this from the top?” We return to the position we started from.
“Yes. One, two, three,” he says. I step backward, he steps forward, and we carefully move to the side, and then we switch.
“We did it!”
The grin on his face is infectious. “We did.”
The music keeps going, so we continue this simple pattern, and all the while I’m feeling his solid, warm body next to mine, clad in luxurious fabric.
Why did I ever think this was a good idea? Because all I want to do is kiss him.
So maybe I should.
We dance, and for every smooth movement we have one where we bump into each other and laugh.
As the music swells, I look into his eyes, which heat up and melt simultaneously when they see mine. His lips part, and I take that as an invitation. I lean in—
A door from one of the ballrooms opens, and the music’s volume increases, along with the sound of voices heading our way.
We break apart. “And, uh, that’s how you do the box step,” he says, clearing his throat.
