Page 69 of Not Strictly Ballroom

This is our life.

I extend my hand to Nick, my best friend, my boyfriend, and my business partner. The man of a million smiles shares one of them with me as he takes my hand and we walk onto the dance floor.

Cheers greet us and I’m grateful for their support. Barry had arranged a coach to bring as many friends, family, and clients as he could cram into it.

The last year has been so busy we’ve hardly stopped. Neither of us thought the studio would be so successful, but it’s turned out to be hugely popular and, because it’s a safe and inclusive space, people come from all over the city to dance with us.

The events have also been a hit, and we’ve held a few different themed days and evenings, from different decades of dances to dances from different continents. We’ve also held, at the request of our clients, some queer-only events, and although we don’t really want a reputation as a dating club, we know some romances have sprung up from people meeting at the studio.

As well as running the studio, we’ve been competing, and have had a few minor wins in regional competitions. All of that has brought us back to this point, dancing again at the Nationals, which this year are being held in Manchester.

The familiar strains of a waltz start, and Nick elegantly twirls from his extended starting position into my hold, and we move as one to the one-two-three, one-two-three beat. Nick has always been a good dancer, but as he’s now dancing full time and, like me, puts one hundred and ten percent into everything, he is exceptional. He claims it’s because he spent so long watching me and my ass shimmy across the dance floor.

I relax into the rhythm and the familiar movements of our choreography. We’ve practised this hundreds of times, and now we just add that little extra bit of showmanship. All the major dance competitions follow the same order of dances, so after a short rest while another category dances, we take to the floor for the tango.

It’s always been a favourite of mine and I’m excited that soon I’ll be able to try out the Argentine version. We’ve worked so hard for the last year that we agreed we needed a holiday. Along with starting up the studio, we’ve renovated the house. We modernised it, with stripped floors and simple colours. I never tire of waking up next to Nick in our huge bed, looking out at the stunning views across the valley and not quite believing how lucky I am. But I am looking forward to getting away for a while. It will be the first real holiday I’ve ever had. So after this competition, we’re closing the school for a week and heading to Spain. It’s not Buenos Aires, where I’d really love to go, but it’s enough for now. I know we still need to be careful with money until the studio has been going for a few years. Something Nick, who with his typical Yorkshireman approach to finances, is adamant about. Buenos Aires has been promised for the future for an extended holiday, but Spain has its charms, especially since I found out about a queer tango club in Barcelona that we’ll visit while we’re there. We’ve been practising our Spanish, and when we take our final steps of the dance and finish in a move that has Nick low with his leg extended behind, and I support him, I look at him and whisper, “Mi amor.”

Earning a whispered, “Cariño, my sweet, my honey,” in response.

When we start the foxtrot in its elegant sophistication, it strikes me I no longer suffer from the demons of the previous year. Although hard, I now can look back at it as an event that created the opportunity for this life that I wouldn’t swap for any other. Doing what I love with the person I love most of all in the world.

The Viennese waltz is fast paced compared to the slow waltz and we’re constantly turning and whirling round the dance floor, only just managing to get our breath back for the quickstep. The quickstep is another fast-paced dance and we incorporate as many hops, jumps, and skips as we can into the sweeping movements, as we swish through the music.

I’m grateful for the break, and Nick and I head to the dressing rooms to change into our Latin clothes.

Once we’re ready, he sits down and accepts the water I hand him. I stand in front of him and he parts his legs so I can move closer between them.

“Do you think we have a chance this year?” he asks, his blond hair falling over his eyes. I resist the temptation to brush it back, knowing how particular he is about his hair.

“Well, we’re dancing the best we ever have, but the competition is tough.” It’s not a lie. Last year’s winners are dancing, as are Krystal and Andrew.

“Hmmm.” He gives a non-committal response, apparently deep in thought. His hand caresses the back of my thigh, working its way to stroke my ass. The effect has my cock taking notice and I don’t need that right now. Damn him and his magic hands.

“Babe?”

“Hmmm?” he responds.

“If you don’t stop that, I’m going to find it difficult to dance.”

That gets his attention, and he tips his head to smile up at me, a predatory look in his eyes. Dear God, he knows how much that look affects me.

“Don’t we have time . . .?” He gives me a slow, seductive smile—it’s not helping.

“No, we don’t. We’re due back on the dance floor in a few minutes.”

He pouts slightly, and I have to smile.

“Get your horny ass out there.”

“And later?”

“Later you can do whatever you want to mine,” I promise and step out of his reach, turning away and adjusting myself, willing my semi away.

“I’ll hold you to that promise.” His voice is sexy and close to my ear as he’s come up behind me. I turn my head to the side and capture his lips for a kiss, just as there’s a knock on the door preventing me from deepening it, which is probably a good thing as my cock threatens to perk up again.

“Are you guys ready?” Claire is outside. She had offered to drive us to the competition, an offer we readily accepted as we’ll be tired afterwards. And a sleep on the way home would be helpful as, whatever the outcome, a party has been arranged at the studio later. Again arranged by Barry, who has turned into one of our biggest supporters, much to the surprise of Nick and I.

We walk back to the hall with Claire while she gives us the results of the first half. Krystal and Andrew are currently leading the points table, and we’re lying in second, with last year’s winners in third, but it’s very tight and it could be anyone’s competition.

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