Page 50 of Deliverance

The air shifts. The building hums with energy.

Drew glances up at me, a huge proud grin splitting her face. She looks ecstatic and I have this strange urge to touch her to make sure she’s not a product of my imagination.

To make sure tonight isn’t a product of my imagination.

My pulse speeds up to match the pounding of the song. It’s heavy, thick, and textured. Layers and layers of sounds that rip at my skin and claw at my bones with the ferocity of a wild animal as a reminder that music always awakens that beastly part of me I could never subdue.

Drew’s attention switches back to the floor where the audience has formed a nearly perfect circle around the lone couple now rocking to the fast tempo of the mix, hips and chests grinding.

I’m impressed just as much as I’m jealous and turned on. The dance has obviously been rehearsed, but it’s the synergy of their breaths and the grace of their movements that grab me.

This careful, drawn-out act of seduction heightens all my senses.

Sudden restlessness washes over me, and I’m not sure if Drew’s presence is to blame or if it has something to do with the heady show her friends are putting on.

“He’s got skills,” I admit once other people start joining in.Channing Tatum on steroids kind of skills.The stares of adoration from the crowd while Santiago’s spinning and tossing the girl tell me he has plenty of fans.

“He’s amazing!” Drew shouts and takes another sip of her drink. Our gazes collide above the rim of her glass and my heart gives a violent kick.

The floor is now packed with dozens of dancers and the DJ’s taking over the music.

I bring my lips to her ear. “Is there another hidden talent of yours I should know about?”

“Sadly, I’m not as gifted as Jemila.” Drew gestures at the girl Santiago just twirled and looks down at my feet. “You’re wearing closed toe boots. You should be fine.”

She snatches the drink I haven’t even touched yet from me and sets it and what’s left of her margarita on the bar counter, then grabs my hand and drags me toward the center of the room.

I’m caught off guard and miss my chance to object, and the next thing I know, we’re swallowed by the mass of churning bodies.

“Just so we’re clear… I suck at this!” Drew screams over the music, her arms flinging, her platforms stomping.

“I don’t care!”

“I may step on you from time to time!”

“I think I can handle it!”

“Okay, slugger. You’ve been warned!” She flashes me a smile that steals my breath and closes her eyes, face eager. There’s something else lurking beneath this blissful expression, but I can’t put my finger on it just yet. Instead, I do my best to stay in control, but it all goes to shit the moment Drew starts working her hips.

The music continues to pounce and I allow my hands to wander along the elegant curve of her frame, rest on her waist, and pull her closer. Not the kind of closer other couples are practicing, but close enough for me to pick up her tangy scent.

She’s fit, all lean, defined muscle, and it only makes me want to undress her even more.

The crowd is wild, and occasionally, people bump into us, but Drew doesn’t seem to care and while the jitter of the dim lights provides enough anonymity, I don’t expect to be recognized. Not in a place like this. It’s not my scene. On Friday nights, I can usually be spotted on stage, beating the crap out of my kit or at some private party, surrounded by women trying to get laid.

We’re barely halfway into the song, still feeling each other out, when Santiago pops out of nowhere, throws his arms over our shoulders, and accidentally knocks our foreheads together.

“Jemila’s got a table!” he yells, totally oblivious to the fact that he may be the reason Drew and I will have identical bruises tomorrow morning. “Come find us when you two are done learning the steps!”

She gives him a nod, and I produce a scowl.

Santiago claps my back and disappears.

“Sorry!” Drew offers an apology. “He’s too excited that I brought a guy.”

“Is he now?” I laugh and touch the spot just above her left brow, the one my head assaulted seconds ago. “Are you going to be okay?”

“I’ll live. You?”

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