Page 58 of Studious
“It’s easy. Follow my lead.” I tug him into me, holding him low on his waist so our pelvises match up, and start moving with the beat.
I may not have thought this through. Because once I have Alden in my arms, I want him to stay there. He starts to move with me, and, little by little, he loosens up. It’s adorable. He has some rhythm.
“I can’t really dance, but I do get how music works,” he says into my ear as one song segues into the next. “It always made sense to me. Like math and accounting.”
Only Alden could talk about accounting on the dance floor and make it sound really good.
“Are you going to point someone out?” he asks, a couple of songs later.
“What?”
“Are you going to point out someone you’re going to … you know. Talk to? How are we going to do this?”
“Oh, right.” I tug him to me one last time, then push him back. “Let’s get another drink.”
He nods. “Okay.”
We go over to a quieter section of the bar where we have a view of the whole place and prop ourselves up on barstools. The place is hopping with all sorts of beautiful people. But none of them is right for Alden.
Then I realize I can’t decide that for him. That’s his choice to make.
I lean over and say into his ear, “Sorry, I’m not finding anyone”—else—“I’m interested in. Do you see anyone you want to talk to?”
He takes his time looking around, then shakes his head. “Just you. But I’ll try harder. I’m sure I can do it.”
He’s leaning on me a bit, and I like it. I like the way he smells when he’s a little sweaty and a little messy from dancing.
And I get this sudden urge to kiss him.
But we can’t do that. I’m his teacher, and we’ve been over kissing already. Now he can find someone else to practice with.
That thought makes me want to growl.
I’m about to say something—I’m not sure what—when a guy I recognize comes up and stands right in front of me, his back to Alden. “Danny! Hey! How are you?”
Giving him a chin lift, I shrug. “All good. And you?”
“I’d be a lot better if you came home with me again.”
It’s pissing me off that he’s ignoring Alden. I reach around behind him and grab Alden’s hand. “Sorry, that’s not going to happen.”
Alden plays along, standing up and coming closer to me. I move aside to make room for him so that he’s kind of perched on my thigh. Not quite sitting, but I’m definitely claiming him.
The guy—I don’t even remember his name—frowns, somewhere between disappointed and affronted. “I see how it is.” He shrugs and gestures at Alden. “Good luck with your new boy toy.”
After the interloper walks away, Alden turns in my arms, and my hands automatically wrap around his waist and pull him in for a hug. “Thanks,” I say as quietly as I can into his ear. “You saved my ass—again.”
He giggles. “Is it bad for me to say that it’s a nice ass?”
I laugh. “Don’t flirt with your teacher. But full marks for the line.”
Alden’s eyes are dark in the dim light, the multicolored dance floor lasers flashing across his face. His full lips are parted. He adjusts his position in my lap, and I can tell that he’s hard. I’m getting there, too. Something about his warm body against mine. The scent of his skin—Irish Spring soap, if I’m not mistaken, and the sweetness of the Coke he was drinking. He goes to take a step back from me, as if acknowledging that we’re getting into dangerous territory, but I don’t let him.
I like him in my arms. What can I say?
When Alden licks his lips and smiles, I lose control. I haul him forward so he’s practically straddling me, and he parts his lips. My tongue dives into his mouth, and he matches the action, andfuck, I want him. He tastes like ambrosia. My hands make their way down to his ripe ass and squeeze.
We break apart, panting. “This okay?” I ask.
