Page 68 of Dead Wolf Walking (Bad Moon Academy 1)
Uh, what are you doing?Joan asks with a strange lilt to her words, almost like she’s trying not to laugh.
Imagining myself being swept away by some handsome duke who burns for me.I sway back and forth to a pretend orchestra.My mom made me take ballroom dance, but I’ve never actually had a reason to use what I learned.
What exactly is ballroom dance?
Grinning at her question, I lift my hands like I’m dancing with a partner.Well, there’s a lot of different dances, but let me show you what a waltz would look like.
Since there is no man leading me, it’s sort of hard to get the rhythm for a second, but I find it and slip into the movement. I close my eyes and hum a song my instructor used to play while we practiced, remembering to keep my back straight as I move.
Humans do this?
I laugh.Well, not very often. At least, not anymore.Now that I’ve started, I don’t want to stop. I do a turn, gasping when cool fingers slip into mine and a hand rests between my shoulder blades. I open my eyes and my gaze clashes with icy blue irises.
A corner of Draco’s mouth tilts up when I make a noise in my throat. “Don’t be embarrassed,” he says, sweeping me back into the rhythm I was keeping with practiced ease. He flips his hair out of his face and stares at me, nodding in approval when I relax in his hold and let him lead me. “Good, Little Red.” Then he starts humming the song I’d been butchering, the vibrato of his throat doing dangerous things to my sanity.
No one should sound this fucking sexy while humming.
I press my lips together, not wanting to ruin the moment because I’m curious and it’s been at least three years since I last danced, and for once, my partner isn’t going through puberty.
By no stretch of the imagination is Draco a duke, but he’ll do.
His steps never falter, and he starts moving faster, spinning me around and around, creating a swirl of dust in our wake. Without warning, he lets go of my fingers, wrapping his strong hands around my waist and lifts me in the air before quickly setting me down and picking up the waltz where we’d left off.
“Where did you learn to dance like this?” I ask with a slight edge of disbelief.
“Little Red, I’m offended. Every good man knows how to dance.”
Rolling my eyes, I slow my steps. He catches on, and we fall into a slower version of the dance. “Learning ballroom dance is one thing, but what you did a minute ago is a bit more thanmy mom made me take lessons.”
“I can’t tell you all of my secrets.” He stops us and we stand close together, eyes locked.
“How about one?”
He grins. “What do I get in return?”
Oh, he’s fun.
“I’ll tell you one too,” I say because I’m not going down the road Joan Jett obviously wants me to.
She’s a bit of a hussy, that one.
“Hmm. I better make it a good one then.” Subtly shifting his grip, he draws me closer.
“Guess so,” I say, not moving my gaze from his. That is, until his tongue darts out of his mouth. Then my attention strays to those plush, inviting, and sometimes dangerous lips as he moistens them.
“Are you listening?” he asks.
“Yes.” I snap my gaze to meet his, but it’s too late. He caught me looking. Probably wanted me to.
“My secret is… that when I was younger, I was incredibly jealous of my brother. So much so, that one time I took his favorite toy and threw it away right before our dad took out the trash.”
“Wow. That’s messed up.” I shake my head. “Did your parents find out?”
His smile morphs into a self-depreciating frown. “No.”
Sensing there’s more to the story he isn’t ready to share, I clear my throat, prepared to erase any of his guilt with the horrors of my past.
“One time I snuck out of the house and broke into our neighbor’s. She was on vacation, so I helped myself to her liquor cabinet and got so wasted I forgot which town I lived in, called the cops to help, and had to be escorted literally thirty feet to my house.”
