“Linden already texted me a few times!” Thally says as the music stops.
“And what did you tell him?” I ask curiously.
“I told him I’m out dancing with you, and asked him what he wants to do. He wants to come here, and the others do, too. Macey’s coming, too.”
“So what? I think I’ll just go dance, because I’m not going to be doing anything else tonight, anyway,” I say with a grin.
“Maybe you should take me with you.”
“I’m not sure you’ll really be comfortable with all these salsa and tango dancers,” I say.
“I’m here to dance. Linden surely wouldn’t make a scene just because I’m dancing with another guy.”
“That’s optimistic.” I look around. Suddenly I feel a vibration in my handbag. I pull out my cell phone and see a text from Macey: I knew you’d be at the cave, we’ll be there in five minutes. I sigh. “They’ll be here in five minutes, so let’s go dance.” I give my handbag to my friend Guiseppe, the barkeep who I’ve known for years, and he puts it under the bar for me. “You can give him your bag, too, then it won’t disappear,” I tell Thalia.
“Cool.” She passes it over the bar.
Guiseppe winks at me. “You know Carlos and Costa over there, Lane. If you two want good partners, dance with them.”
“Which ones are they?” Thalia wants to know.
“Over there in the corner,” I answer and wave at Carlos, because he’s checking me out.
“I see them. Maybe I’ll just wait here for Linden, I’m really not into Latinos.”
I give her an irritated look.
She bites her bottom lip. “Sorry, that sounded kind of racist, but I really didn’t mean it that way. I just don’t like how a lot of them act like they’re God’s gift to women.”
My eyebrows go up a notch. “OK, then I’ll go dance now. See you.” I take one last sip of my drink and make my way over to Carlos.
“Hey, beautiful.” He grins.
I giggle. “Hey, dance god. Will you do me the honor?”
“Of course, but let’s wait for a tango,” he says. “Would you like a drink?” He puts a glass in my hand. He and Costa always drink Jack and Coke, mostly Jack, so I know I’d be totally sloshed if I accepted. That’s why I put it down on the table. “Thanks anyway, Carlos, but I’d do better with a Coke.”
He smiles and takes a sip of the drink that I just put down. “No problem, Lane.”
A tango starts playing, and I look at him expectantly. “Shall we?”
“I just need to drink something first, Lane,” he answers.
I look over at Costa. “How about you?”
He jumps up immediately. “My pleasure.” Then he laughs. Costa looks like the perfect tango partner. He’s tall, tanned, muscular, and intelligent, which is what I find most attractive in men. Not to mention his thick black hair, shining green eyes, sculpted face, and carefully cultivated three-day beard. Costa takes my hand and leads me onto the dance floor, which is now a little less crowded. Probably most people don’t tango, so there’s more space for us. We start to move to “On This Night of a Thousand Stars,” with steps that start out gentle and slow and then become more aggressive. After the first turn, I lean into his body. We dance a mixture of the international tango and the tango argentino, which is more passionate.
At the end of the song I bend backward until only Costa’s arm is holding me up. All that’s missing is the rose in my teeth. A salsa song begins, and we glide effortlessly into the next dance. We separate during the dance and solo for a while, but we never lose track of each other. All around us, the other dancers are stopping to watch as we come together again and take up where we left off. We use all the space they’ve left us, and have a lot of fun. The great thing about Costa is that he’s also a professional dancer. He’s the national champion in the Latin category, and damn good. There’s no one better, at least not in this country. We end our salsa with a lift, and he throws me up in the air with a spin, so I do a one-eighty and land in his arms again. Costa lets me glide down gently, and I stretch my right leg up and he swings me up again. As the song ends, he catches me in his arms. There’s thundering applause.
“Thanks for the wonderful dance, Lane,” he whispers in my ear. “But now I have to go get a drink.”
“Would you like to dance?” a young guy I’ve never seen here before asks me. I haven’t been here for a while.
“Sure,” I say, and smile at Costa. “Come back when you’re not thirsty anymore.”
“I will, beautiful.”
I giggle, and dance with the guy who asked me. This time there’s no audience, we’re surrounded with other dancing couples.
After several more dances with various partners, including Costa again, my throat starts to feel dry. I go to the bar and find Macey, Thalia, and Downstair Alley. “Can I have a vod-bomb, Guiseppe?” I call over the music.
“Right away!” He says good-naturedly.
I turn around and see they’re all looking at me. “What’s up?”
Macey reaches for my hand and pulls me a little away from the others. “Why are you doing this?”
“What do you mean?” I have no idea what she wants from me.
“I make sure that Gavin McLeod can come with you to my premiere, and then you run off and dance so hotly with Costa that everyone thinks you’re about to jump each other’s bones right on the dance floor. Are you crazy?”
My eyebrows shoot up. “Since when has it been a problem for you that I dance with my friends?”
“Since you made me look totally stupid by running away from my premiere,” she snaps.
“Macey, you were busy and we were getting bored, that’s why we came here. Besides, you don’t have to pretend everything wasn’t fine before you started fawning all over Gavin and his friends like an underfucked groupie. Even Linden’s girlfriend was pissed off by your behavior.”
Her jaw drops open, but no sound comes out.
I sigh. “Sorry for the harsh words, but they’re necessary. Don’t complain if I want to have fun with my real friends instead of some temporary superstars.”
“Are you saying I’m superficial?”
“Did you say hi to Jake or Rick this evening?”
“No.”
“Ha! That’s because you only have eyes for Downstair Alley, and not for your real friends. Those guys won’t even remember you in a week, but Jake, Rick, and I will. But you still have to tell me I’m wrong to have my fun with people I care about, don’t you?” I say determinedly, and turn away from her. I get my drink from Guiseppe, go to a corner of the club, and lean against the wall. It’s not actually quiet, but there aren’t so many people there. Macey has totally ruined my mood. She’s acting like my babysitter, but she was the one who said I should have some fun. Then I do, and she doesn’t like it.
“Hi, Lane,” Jonah says. I’d know his voice anywhere.
I raise my eyes from my glass and look up at him curiously. “Hi.”
“Your dancing was amazing.”
“Thanks.”
“Will you practice with me next week?” he asks.
“It would be pretty pointless not to, since we’ve scheduled all those contests.”
He leans forward and rests his hand on the wall next to me. His steel-gray eyes wander over my outfit. “I haven’t seen you wearing those things in ages, but you still look totally hot in them.”
“Umm . . . Thanks.”
Jonah bends closer. “How many times have I told you that you don’t have to thank me for stating a fact?” he whispers in my ear, making my skin rise in goose bumps. I still react to him much too strongly. The bastard knows very well how easily he can get to me.
I push him away, or at least I try to, but he’s just too heavy for me. “Jonah, we broke up, remember?”
“I know, and I regret having left you.” I feel his breath on my cheek.
“Cut it out!” I say resolutely.
“What’s wrong with you, bab
y?”
“I’m not your baby anymore, Jonah, so get out of my face.”
Someone clears his throat. “Lane, is everything OK?” It’s Gavin.
“Yeah, it’s fine. You can go back to the others.” I look at Jonah again. “I said, get out of my face.”
“Give me one more chance, Lane.”
I shake my head.
“You heard the woman, she wants you to leave her alone, so leave,” Gavin says with a threat in his voice.
Jonah pulls himself up to his full height, but it’s not enough to top Gavin. “Who asked for your opinion?”
“No one, but I can’t stand it when a woman is being hit on when she already asked to be left in peace,” Gavin replies.
Jonah grins at me over his shoulder, and I know exactly what’s going on in his head, so I immediately place myself between the two of them. “Stop it, both of you.”
But my ex shoves me aside and tries to swing at Gavin. Gavin feints, catches Jonah’s fist, and holds it tight. “That’s enough.”
I push myself between them again. “End of it. Jonah, just leave. I’ll see you next week, and we can talk. And you”—I look Gavin in the eye—“shouldn’t mix in if I say everything’s fine.”
My darling ex tries to shove me away again, but this time I don’t let myself get pushed so easily. “Cut it out, Jonah!”
He looks at me angrily. “We’ll talk about this next week, and about us,” he says, then bends down and kisses my cheek. “See you, Lane.”
Shaken, I watch him as he leaves.
“I just wanted to help you,” Gavin says.
My eyes wander back to him. “I can manage fine by myself, but thanks anyway.”
He snorts. “But he’s right, you really do look hot.”
I sigh heavily. “Thanks.”
“Are you angry?”
“Yeah, but not at you . . . I should just go home,” I answer and try to walk past him, but he stops me.
“Why do you keep dropping me?” His gaze speaks volumes, doubt and confusion are written there, but I can’t even explain it to myself.
“Why did you kiss me like that this morning, and then drop me?” I counter. There’s always a fine line between being caught and falling. OK, my collision with the ground was more painful than his—he just had to wait around. The worst part for me was the embarrassment.
“Because . . .” Gavin shakes his head. “Can I drive you home?”
“No, I’ll take a taxi, thanks. I still have to say good-bye to my friends.”
“I could come with you.”
I smile bitterly. “It would be kind of ridiculous if I walk through the place with a babysitter, don’t you think?”
“Maybe a little.” He grins. “Then I’ll see you when you come to get your jacket and bag. Thally said you gave them to the bartender.”
I nod. “OK, Gavin.” Without waiting for his answer, I go looking for Jake and Rick, and find them sitting at a table. “Hey. Are you having fun?”
“Yeah, but we came over here when Macey arrived with her teen dreams.” Rick laughs.
I laugh, too, and sit down with them. “I actually came to say good-bye. I just had an encounter with Jonah that blew away my good mood. I don’t feel like dancing anymore.”
Jake pushes his drink over to me. “Have some of this, then you’ll feel better.”
“What is it?” I ask, eyeing the green fluid skeptically.
“Blue curaçao with OJ. Try it, it’s good.”
I take a cautious sip, and then another. “Just finish it, Lane,” Jake says, and takes my vodka.
I drink it. After my little interlude with Jonah, Gavin’s intrusion, and my argument with Macey, this is an evening to forget. The easiest way to do that is to take Jake’s advice.
“I think she’s had enough,” Gavin says as I’m about to order a third glass of green poison. He just arrived at our table.
I look up at him. “Says who?”
“Me, because I know how you reacted to two glasses of wine last night.”
I set my jaw and look at Jake and Rick. “So, my personal Mary Poppins has spoken.” I giggle. Oh, God, I really am very drunk.
Gavin offers me his hand. “I’ll bring you home, Lane.”
I stand up without his help, but I sway a little. “I can do this by myshelf,” I slur, and take my jacket and bag from him. Why did Guiseppe even give them to him? I put on my jacket a bit clumsily and hang the bag around my body so it can’t fall down or be snatched. “See you Monday, guys.”
“See you, Lane,” Jake says, looking amused, and stands up.
I hug him and plant a kiss on his cheek. “Thanks for saving a rotten evening.”
“My pleasure.”
Rick hugs me, too, and I also give him a kiss. “Thanks to you, too.”
“Sure, Lane.”
After I let go of him, I cross the dance floor with Gavin. I’m embarrassed by what he’s doing, but I really don’t want to have another argument. Besides, he was so busy with Macey that he can’t complain. At least, I think so.
Gavin holds my hand tightly when I try to pull away. His gaze is unflinching. “I’m not going to let you go, otherwise you’ll take off on me again.”
I snort with annoyance and leave the cave with him. Once we’re outside, I can hardly believe my eyes. The same limousine that brought us to the theater is standing by the door. The chauffeur gets out and opens the back door for us.
Gavin ushers me ahead and slides in after me. “Why didn’t you want my help?” he asks once we’re settled into the soft leather seats.
“I can deal with Jonah by myshelf,” I slur, and I sound so drunk it makes me laugh.
“You are so hammered,” he says, shaking his head.
“And? I’m an adult, I know what I’m doing,” I murmur and lean back. “Besides, I’m frustrated.”
“Why?”
“Because of you!” I throw at him, and shock even myself. I hate it when alcohol makes me lose all my inhibitions like that.
“Because of me?” he repeats, irritated.
“Yeah!”
“Are you going to tell me why?”
I cross my arms over my chest and look out the window. “Who was it that kissed me and then ran away in panic as though I’d said oh, please, I want to have children with you, preferably quintuplets?”
Gavin bursts out laughing, which only fires my frustration higher. But then he’s suddenly serious again. “I only let you go so fast because I was afraid you might feel like I was using you. I didn’t want that, because I think you’re nice, and I really like you.”
I look into his eyes. “You like me?”
“Yeah.”
I nod. “What a lame excuse.”
Gavin slips a hand behind my shoulders and pulls me close so quickly that I have to catch my breath. “It’s not an excuse,” he whispers next to my lips, and kisses me just as passionately as he did this morning.
My whole body responds to his kiss, and I gasp for air as soon as he gives me the chance. He pulls me onto his lap. I throw my arms around his neck so he won’t be able to get rid of me so quickly this time, in case he suddenly changes his mind again. I caress the line of his top lip gently with my tongue, enjoying the roughness of his designer stubble. Gavin’s lips part and he moans, and our tongues begin to duel passionately. There’s nothing gentle about this kiss, it’s a battle to see who can get the upper hand. His right hand slips under my skirt, between my legs, and he lightly pinches my open petals. I shriek lustfully into his mouth, and his fingers begin to massage me through the thin material of my lace underwear.
Gavin breaks the kiss, but I try to put my lips on his again. “I don’t want to bring you home anymore,” he whispers onto my mouth.
“Then don’t.” I smile and start kissing him again. His hand goes to my back, abandoning my wetness. I can barely stand the continuous pulsing that’s started, and I rub myself against the bulge in his jeans.
“To the hotel!”
he calls to the chauffeur when I break the kiss to get a breath of air again.
“Yes, sir,” he answers, and then I hear a hum, and glance over my shoulder to see the privacy screen sliding into place.
For the second time, he puts a finger under my chin so I have to look at him. He pulls me toward him again, but the kiss that follows is far gentler than before. It would pull the floor out from under my feet if I were standing. I feel like I’m melting. The excitement builds again to a raging storm. His hand glides over my breasts, slips under my top, and finally into my bra. He rubs my nipples determinedly, and they rise to him, wanting more. That’s exactly where I want to feel his tongue—tracing around them—or his teeth, nibbling them. I’ve been longing for this guy since this morning, and I want to have my fun with him. I take the initiative and unbutton my top. Gavin pushes it off my shoulders and pulls down the cups of my bra to expose my taut breasts. He rubs them gently. His touches send shocks through my whole body that explode in my lap. I want him so much!
I can barely control myself anymore. I stroke his upper body gently, down to his belt. I open it, and then his jeans, and push my hand inside. He breaks the kiss as my hand surrounds his hard rod and begins to move up and down slowly, as much as the material allows.
“You’re killing me, Lane,” he groans, and then he finally puts his lips over the rosy bud that’s straining toward him. I moan as I feel his teeth.
Suddenly he pushes me away a little, so I also have to take my hand off his penis. I lean on his knees as he snakes his hand under my skirt again. He watches me carefully as his fingers slip under the damp lace of my panties and begin to circle my clit slowly. I moan and lean into his hand, and Gavin starts to rub me. “I want to see you come,” he whispers, and just the erotic sound of his voice almost puts me over the edge. His movements become faster and he brings his other hand into play, his fingers burying themselves deep in my crevice.
“Oh, my God!” I moan loudly as I move against him. Then I close my eyes and bite my lower lip to keep from making noises that will entertain the driver.
Gavin: Pure Passion (Hamptons Book 1) Page 6