Page 11 of All Hallows' Maze
“So, are we meeting up with everyone?”
“Nope,’ he said, slinging his arm over my shoulders and pulling me into his side.
“Why not?” My throat tightened. We’ve done a lot of things alone, but this set me nerves on fire. His fingers wrapped around my jaw, holding my head in place as he kissed my temple.
“Because I didn’t invite them,” he whispered. “I want to show you something without an audience.”
“Dakota—”
“Keep walking, baby.”
That exchange left me mute and in a veil of shock. If I read into it, it’d be disastrous. His hand moved from my shoulder and down to the curve of my waist.
“Will you tell me where we’re going?” Anything to put me at ease would’ve been preferred.
“To do an activity, of course.” That wasn’t a relaxing answer. His smartass response was followed by a matching grin, and I groaned inwardly.
The nature of us meant that silence was comfortable and enjoyable, but as we walked it seemed that his silence was more purposeful and avoidant. We approached the boardwalk bridge and I let it go, choosing not to press or force him to tell me anything. I trusted him inexplicably.
We exited the covered walkway and Dakota stopped abruptly, causing me to stumble into him. Before I could question what the hell was wrong with him, a familiar beat shut me up.
“Oh, this is happening first,” he said, leaving my side and jogging over to the performer. After a bit of discussion, they shared a quick handshake, and the music grew louder.
Oh, fuck.
Dakota flipped the hood of his jacket over his beanie and effortlessly found the rhythm to start the choreography he taught me ages ago. One thing about him, no matter the moment or activity, he exuded sexual energy. From his smile, confidence, and to the sway of his hips the man was walking sex appeal. Women stopped mid stride to watch him and then huddled in a group to fawn over him.
Oblivious as ever, he stopped the count facing me and called for me with the wave of us fingers. I wanted to give in, but I shook my head. A private studio was one thing, but a crowd of strangers made me self-conscious. His hand moved up and down over his dick while he stared right at me, and my face turned crimson. The crowd of girls turned, moving around each other to see who he was looking at and talking to.
I’m going to kill him.
I ran over to make it stop and he pulled me into the routine. He was as physical as ever, slipping in chaste touches as we danced.
“Can you still fly for me?” he whispered into my neck as he took me out on the eight counts.
“Can you still catch me?” He groped at my hips, pulling me against him.
“Always, baby.” He worked my ass over him, and I didn’t miss the hardness pressed against me. We weren’t just dancing anymore. He was so close, if I turned, I could’ve kissed him.
“What about my skirt?” It dawned on me I wasn’t prepared to stunt.
“Looks like I get a full moon for Halloween.” He joked, but the thought mortified me. I wanted to give him that, but in front of a growing crowd…
He stopped us and supported my hands from below, whispering a countdown before squatting and pushing me into the air as I did a handstand. Face to face after feeling his dick pressed into my ass left me dizzy.
“That’s my pretty bunny,” he whispered.
“Don’t drop me,” I pleaded.
He threw me higher, sending me into a twist as I closed the stunt and dropped back into his arms. He caught me around my thighs, letting his hands slide up my ass and waist as he put my feet back on solid ground. His hand wrapped around my throat, and he brought my nose to his, heavy breaths exchanged as he searched my eyes.
“I’ve missed that.” His voice was gritty and strained, and his gripped tightened on my backside.
“I—people are staring.”
“Let’s go,” he said, not releasing me. “It’s a timed surprise anyway.” He tucked me under his arm, giving a last thanks to the performer.
My being overwhelmed combined with his body heat nearly set me into hyperventilation. His hand trailed down my arm and his fingers laced between mine. Kisses? Those were normal. Hugs? They were expected. Physical touch to demonstrate his love and affection had been commonplace for years. But holding my hand was new. New created anxiety.
