Page 191 of Rock Me All Night
Drew slides one hand under my ass and holds my body against his. I press hard against his shoulders. Not enough to hurt him. Or to convince him to never do this again.
"Put me down," I say.
"Are you going to let me carry the bags?"
"No."
"There's your answer."
"What is wrong with you?" I ask. "When did you get so fucking weird?"
He takes a step forward and drops me on the bed. I land on the mattress—Nadeen's mattress—with a thud. Drew climbs on after me. He slings his knee over my thighs, so he's straddling me.
His fingertips skim the edge of my t-shirt. He leans close. Close enough to kiss me. Close enough to fuck me.
"I don't want to tickle you into submission," he says, but from the way he's smiling it's clear he does.
He runs his fingers over my stomach. It's this strange thing betweenI want you so badandI'm going to tickle you until you pee your pants.
I clear my throat. "Fine."
"Thank you." He shifts off me and grabs the suitcase. "You should let other people help you."
"You should respect other people's wishes."
He's already out the door.
* * *
The landlord is waitingin front of the house with the keys in one hand and a takeout coffee cup in the other. She is all smiles now that Drew's money has made us worthy of her attention. Even with me in jeans and a v-neck that does little to cover my cleavage.
"Do you need any help?" she asks.
"I've got it all under control." He takes the key with indifference. "Thank you."
"I'll head back to work then. You really are a lovely couple."
Drew waits until we're out of earshot then turns to me. "We're a lovely couple."
I roll my eyes and grab my key. I copy the landlord's tone as I nod to my car. "Do you need any help?"
"Not at all."
"Great." I trudge up the concrete path. It's hard to stay irritated in front of such a nice house. There's something very soothing about the blue paint and the white trim, like a pastel version of the sky.
Still, I won't let Drew off that easily. I wait until I'm inside the house to let out a sigh of appreciation. This main room is huge. All I need is my ballet slippers and I can turn this place into my personal dance studio.
I slide out of my shoes and change from first to second position and back again. Even with a couch, a TV, and a huge dining table, there's enough space for any of my routines.
My shoulders relax. I check to make sure Drew is still outside, and I practice my turns. Quarter. Quarter. Half. Single. Double.
The door creaks open. I lean into my landing instinctively. There's no avoiding it. These steps are drilled into my brain.
Drew raises an eyebrow. "I haven't seen you dance like that since your seventh-grade ballet recital."
My feet go to first position instinctively. I smile like I have fantastic memories of my long-ago ballet recitals. I haven’t done much real dancing since I was on the high school dance squad. Mostly, I get my fix at the clubs on Saturday nights, but I miss the structure of ballet, jazz, and modern dance.
"You want me to keep some space clear?" He asks.
