Savor You (Fusion #5)(43)

“Awesome, my plan is working.” She wiggles her eyebrows and finishes her water. “What should we do next?”

“Well, I was thinking about walking across the street to go dancing.” Her eyes light up like it’s Christmas morning. “I know you like to dance in the kitchen. Do you like to dance out of the kitchen?”

“Hell yes,” she says, nodding enthusiastically. She reaches for her purse. “Let’s go.”

The club across the street is busy, but given that it’s a Sunday evening, it’s not crammed. The music is thumping, much too loud to have a conversation, which is just fine with me. I don’t plan to do much talking. The moment we walk through the door, Mia’s body is moving with the beat of the music. Her handbag is small, and slips over her head to hang across her body, resting on her hip. With her hands free, she grins and leads me out onto the dance floor.

She has great rhythm, and when her hips begin to move, I’m transfixed. This could have been a very bad idea. I could conceivably embarrass myself.

I’m that turned on.

I begin to move with the music too, and Mia smiles widely.

“You can dance!” she exclaims. I just nod and take her hand, spin her away from me, then pull her close and enjoy the fuck out of her.

It’s vertical sex. We’re lost in a sea of bodies, moving together, letting the pounding music pulse around us and through us. She has no inhibitions at all. No insecurities.

She’s having a blast, and there’s nowhere else I’d rather be than right here with her.

Suddenly, a younger dude comes up behind her, sandwiching her between us and grinding on her ass. She smirks up at me, then turns around and says, “You’re not invited to this party, cowboy.”

Instead of getting mad, the kid laughs and dances away, and Mia returns to me. She only has eyes for me, and it makes me feel like the most powerful man in the world.

The DJ seamlessly changes the song and we spend the next two hours dancing without a break.

“Do you need some water?” I yell at her, but she just smiles and shakes her head no.

“Later,” she mouths and keeps shaking those hips. I’m going to fuck her from behind tonight, holding on to those hips. I reach for them now and pull her against me. She can feel my hard-on against her back, and she smiles up at me with pure female satisfaction.

I lower my lips to her ear.

“You fucking turn me on.”

She laughs and reaches up to cup my face in her palm, dancing against me. Jesus, how can she do this for so long? I’m exhausted, and I work out regularly.

But then it occurs to me—so does she. She’s used to standing in her kitchen for sometimes fifteen hours in a day. Of course dancing for a few hours isn’t difficult for her.

I’m shocked when the DJ suddenly comes over the mic and says, “Well, party people, this is the last song for tonight. You don’t have to go home, but you can’t stay here. Be good out there.”

The house lights come up. Mia’s face is sweaty and happier than I’ve seen her.

“Are you ready to go home?” I ask.

She shakes her head. “Absolutely not.”

“Okay.” I laugh and lead her outside of the club. The cool night air feels amazing. Mia’s fanning her face with her hand, but she’s still smiling and breathing hard.

“That was so fucking fun,” she says. “Thank you. Maybe the best date I’ve ever been on in my life.”

“Wow, that’s a lot of pressure. Now I can never outdo this one.”

“You’ll figure something out,” she says with a shrug. “That felt fantastic.”

“Do you go out dancing often?” I ask as I take her hand in mine, thread our fingers, and walk with her toward my car.

“Not as often as I’d like,” she confesses. “The girls and I go out sometimes, but this was long overdue.”

“We’ll have to make a point to go more often.” I open the door for her and she smiles up at me.

“I’d like that.”

The street lights are shining on her, making her eyes and face glow, and I can’t resist her. I pin her against the car and lean in, pressing the length of me against her. Kissing her like my life fucking depends on it.

Because right now it feels like it does. Nothing in my life has ever compared to the way I feel when I’m with this woman.

Her hands are fisted in my shirt on my sides as I cup her face and take and take.

“Get a room!” Someone shouts, bringing me out of the cloud of lust surrounding us.

I pull back and drag my knuckles down her cheek. She’s still breathing hard, but from the kiss now rather than the dancing.

“What do you want to do now?” I’m expecting her to say go home and get naked. I’m not expecting what comes next.

“French fries.” She grins. “I want French fries and maybe some pie. I think I’ve earned them.”

“Fuck yes, you have.” She lowers herself into my car and I walk around it to join her. “Where should we go for our late-night snack?”

“There’s an all-night diner about eight blocks from here.” She points the way she wants me to go, and I follow. “I had no idea you could dance like that.”

“I, too, am a mystery.” She laughs and reaches over to take my hand, which gives me pause. This might be the first time she’s ever grabbed my hand. It’s usually the other way around. “I knew a long time ago that the best way to impress a woman was to be able to dance. Most men don’t. So, you can take me out in public—to clubs, or weddings—and be proud of the way I dance.”