Page 95 of The Bratva's Christmas Bump
“Is that surprising?”
Xena snorts from behind the bar.
“Not surprising,” I assure him sheepishly. “Just… you look more like you know how to dance around a boxing ring than a dance floor.”
“Are you judging me?” Maxim raises his brows and slides off his stool, pulling me toward the dance floor. “I’ll have you know that the real reason this place does so well is because people come to seemedance.”
“Oh, is that right?” I giggle. “You draw in more money than these beautiful, half-naked women?”
“Definitely.” Tucked into the crowd a little, Maxim’s arm snakes around my waist and pulls my body tight against his. “If you have any doubts, just follow me.”
“Oh, I can dance. In fact, I think you might be outmatched.”
“Am I?” He doesn’t hide the way his gaze roams over me as our aligned hips begin rocking from side to side in time to the music.
Despite our height difference, Maxim’s crouched stature keeps our hips aligned, but he soon abandons that as we part and the music takes us. He’s not wrong about his ability to dance. Every rock, sway, and bob to the music draws my eyes to his hips and his chest. He spins around me, keeping close enough that the warmth of his body envelopes me, but far enough that he doesn’t disturb my own moves. It’s like I’m the pole and he’s the dancer the way he sways around me, his body like liquid with how he flows back and forth to the music.
My heart races. Glitter in the air clings to my skin. Strands of hair escaping my bun stick to the back of my neck, and I’m slowly overheating as the sensual rock of his body close to me ignites desire deep inside me.
I let him dance until the song changes, then I clasp his shoulders and he becomes the pole with little complaint. Where he might have the moves, I have one thing that he doesn’t. He’s strong and bulky enough that I can lean against him without him wavering, so I use that to my advantage. Mimicking a few of the tamer moves I’ve seen from the dancers around me, I lean against his back and slide down until I’m on my haunches, then I spin around to his front and climb to my feet while arched into him. My breasts drag against his body from his thighs all the way up to his chest, and Maxim’s breath catches in his throat.
Determined to win, I continue my swaying dance and grind around him while occasionally stepping away from him to close my eyes and dance to the music.
It’s freeing.
Within minutes, my worries melt away. Nothing exists but the pulsing music that vibrates through my bones, the soft fog caressing my bare ankles, the warmth of Maxim acting as myanchor, and the pleasant ache in my muscles that develops the longer I dance.
When did I last do this?
Just… stop and enjoy things?
No thoughts or work, family or stress. No worry about bills, the mold in my apartment, or where my next line of work will come from.
There’s just me and the music, and that’s all that matters.
And Maxim.
The music shifts to a slow tune and Maxim’s arm returns to my waist. I open my eyes with a soft gasp as he pulls me snug against his hot torso. He leans into me until I’m arched back over his arm. Nose to nose, we breathe the same bubble of air for a few silent seconds and then he smiles and kisses me slowly.
“Maybe you win,” he murmurs against my lips. “Maybe I win.”
“You win?” Looping one arm around his damp neck, I tease the softer hairs at his neck. “There’s no way you win.”
“I get you.” He leans back and our eyes meet. “So I win by default.”
I roll my eyes but his affection warms my heart and a shiver moves through me. How can such an intense, intimidating man be so soft? He’s like the grumpiest golden retriever I’ve ever met. Looking back at when we first met in that club, it must have been this energy that drew me to him in the first place. If I’d found him again in any other place than that pizzeria, maybe our relationship would have been like this from the start.
Instead, we’ve been through it, which only amplifies my feelings for him. Feelings that clash with a burst of reality in my mind. I don’t know how he truly feels, and it can all change when I tell him the truth.
I choose my fantasy for one more night and kiss him deeply, arching into him while we sway and grind around the dance floor. The crowds seem to melt away, and it’s just us under one glittering spotlight. He grinds gently against me, swaying back and forth and lightly twirling me around. As we dance, his thigh ends up between my legs as if he’s helping guide me through the moves.
Sense escapes me. The pressure of his thigh against my core is enough to melt my mind and I can’t stop my hips from moving like they have a mind of their own. My hands clutch the side of his neck and face, kissing him messily while his arm tightens around my waist and he supports me without a word. My hips rock, dragging my core against his thigh while chasing the rush of pleasure that sparks each time I grind a certain way and rub my clit against his firm leg.
We might as well have been alone with how desperately I’m humping his leg. Our tongues slide and weave together in a separate battle, each fighting for dominance, and while I don’t give up, I adore his effort to claim me. His other hand roams over my body, caressing my hip, then up to grope at my breasts before finally settling on the side of my neck with his thumb against my racing pulse.
I’m floating, gasping and whimpering against his lips. He doesn’t give me space to breathe. My air comes from him while he drinks down every sound that erupts from me, yet all of it stays secret under the thrum of the music.
I reach climax with a gasp, clutching at Maxim and losing all footing. His grip prevents me from falling and he holds me close as if we’re one. When his lips curl into a cheeky smirk against my mouth, I bite his lower lip as sharply as I can while I tremble in his arms and my core clenches repeatedly.
