Page 14 of Allured
His proximity also means I can no longer hide behind the lights. My breath hitches when he suddenly lifts his face and connects his eyes with mine.
Instantly, I’m fighting both the urge to run away and the urge to grab him by the collar of his cut—off shirt and pull him down into my lap.
“Holy shit, it’s him,” Alek breathes. It would seem I’m not the only one in panic.
Alek freezes for a second after the words slip. Recovering quickly, he continues his dance move and catches up to the rest of the dancers, but his shining hazel eyes never leave mine.
I would be a little tiffed at how quickly he recovered, but I remember that he is the one on stage performing and must keep his composure. No, I can tell by the slight tension lining his jaw that he is as affected as I am by this surprise reunion.
Alek continues dancing and I take the moment to admire his body. The muscles on the man’s abdomen are defined and tantalizing as his hips thrust once, twice, thrice down into the stage, the rest of his torso rolls to meet the movement. A tendril of lust surges up my spine at the sight of him moving in such a decadent way.
While I’m certain I’ve seen male figures similar to his before, my own body has never quite reacted in such a way. I’m shifting in my seat, my pants feeling much too tight as my desire makes itself evident.
Swiftly, Alek jumps to his feet, the formation of the dancers changing once again as he and the others jump off the stage and into open areas near the sides. From my periphery, I see the other dancers begin to walk around the crowd.
Even when I’m looking around, my concentration remains on Alek. And dear lord, he’s now only a few yards away and marching directly toward our booth. The screaming from mycompanions would be deafening if my senses weren’t already drowning out everything buthim.
He stops directly in front of me.
A pink tongue traces across his bottom lip as he does nothing to hide his appreciative glance from my face down to my body. He seems to pause at the ribbon on my chest, letting out a husky chuckle at my ridiculous moniker for the night. I find that I cannot help but laugh with him. I would wear this idiotic sash any day of the week if it earned me such a beautiful sound from those lips.
Alek steps even closer, his tanned hand reaching for my sash slowly and teasingly. Before I can say anything or react to his immediacy, I find myself hauled forward as he wraps his hands beneath my thighs, pulling me suddenly and effectively.
The shift makes it so that I’m at the edge of my seat, my hands at my sides, and my lap free for the taking.
And hetakes.
Alek sits himself on my lap like he has every right to. The women around me are laughing and yelling out encouragement. The smile on my face refuses to leave my lips and my eyes refuse to leave him as Alek grins back and keeps fiddling with my sash.
“Double D’s huh? I took you for more of an ass man.” He’s forced to lean closer so I can hear him properly. We’re as close as we were at our encounter last weekend. Even when he’s taunting me about my obvious appraisal of him during our first meeting, it puzzles me just how much I missed being in his presence.
Can a forty—two—year—old man blush? I think I’m proving so and Alek, the brat, is enjoying every minute of my torture.
His hands leave the sash to brush against the outside of my arms, still covered in the suit jacket I wore to work today. The tweed fabric does nothing to shield the heat of his touch. He takes the opportunity to lean down, his face now parallel to mine as he whispers in my ear.
“You mind getting a little hands on?” he questions.
The words feel more intimate than his previous teasing question that was meant to get a reaction from the table. He’s genuinely asking and checking to see if I would approve.
“Not at all,” I respond in a heated whisper. We’re so close that the slight nod of my head brushes my dark hair against his light brown waves. I shiver at the contact.
While I am aware it is not the time to apologize, I want to turn and tell him I’m sorry for not contacting him. I want to tell him that I was scared of the strong pull I feel towards him. I want to tell him that I couldn’t be what he needed or deserved but his voice silences my thoughts.
“Good boy,” he purrs.
Gripping my hands, Alek tugs them to his torso and plants them on his abdominal muscles. I gasp, my eyes magnetically pulled to where our skin meets. Heat sears my shaking fingertips. His large hands cover mine and sandwich them to his unyielding flesh before he begins to slowly drag them under his cropped shirt.
“Now, these aren’t double d’s but… I think they’ll do,” he says loudly, jeering and winking over at my friends behind me. The group of women lose their minds and I hear a couple of drinks fall over on the table as they react to Alek’s showmanship.
I have to fight the groan that threatens to escape my lips. The feeling of his taut skin and firm pectorals beneath my fingertips is like nothing I’ve ever felt before. The menace encourages me to squeeze his chest by tightening his hands on mine.
I’m not used to the pure masculinity that drives my desire at the moment. I cannot deny how attracted I am to this man, as new as the feeling may be.
What is he doing to me?
I could get lost in my stupefaction, denial and arousal mixing to create the perfect storm in my mind, but I’m too aware of mysurroundings. Having a crisis in the middle of a burlesque show would be unspeakably rude.
“Hey—”
