Back in the Saddle (Jessica Brodie Diaries #1)(61)

Adam shrugged. “Just sayin’.”

Please don’t.

When the song ended William did a bow, mimicking mine, to the cheering fans. With a smug grin, he came to stand in front of me. I took a nonchalant stance.

“You’re hot,” I said to him, “but not as hot as me.”

Time to sex it up!

This time I faced William before I started to move. My eyes hit his and held. I started very slowly. Rolling my shoulders, then my hips, while running my hands along my body. I bent at the waist, looking away while my hands explored my br**sts, then back as I neared my groin. I writhed and moved, showing off all the things a woman did best—sensual, sexual, sultry! Not too in your face, though. Not yet.

I turned, dipped, and popped my butt up. I turned again, rolled my body around, and popped my groin with legs half spread, a look of surprise on my face.

His expression matched mine.

I shot him a coy smile, then I forgot him completely, turning away. Here was where the sex dial turned all the way up.

I pushed and took it back. I did some great hip hop moves with little pops, rolls and dips. No Beyonce, but definitely a protégé. I flirted with dancing boys that were happier watching than molesting. Girls were trying to replicate the moves.

Good sign.

I ended with some good rhythm and more body rolls. I threw in some well-placed pops and jiggles for crowd pleasers. I was getting sweaty by this time, and I made a little show of wiping off the perspiration. Then licking one of my fingers.

When the song ended the boys at the booth were quiet. I looked up at them, thinking they got bored and wandered away, but they were still looking down at me.

Not a good sign.

Confused, I walked back to my crowd. First thing I noticed was a look of shock on Ty and Candace’s faces. Adam looked dumbfounded and speechless. William...

William was looking at me intently with slight frustration.

This was not the reaction I was going for. I looked down at myself as quickly as I could to check the wares. All seemed in place; no boobs hanging out; pants still on; my dress covering my crotch. I didn’t even pee myself. So what the hell? Did I just bomb?

Usually my sexy carefree dance was a hit—I’d never gotten this reaction before. Maybe the people I was performing with in the past were drunker and therefore less inclined to get offended? Or maybe more liberal? Less restricted?

I was about to tell Adam that we should just forget it and go back, when Adam, traces of pain lancing his voice, said, “Willie, you’re up.”

William shook his head.

Heat filled my face. I looked at the ground.

“Get on witch ya,” Adam coaxed. “Get on out there. You just gonna lie down and let her walk all ov’r ya?”

I peeked up from under my eyebrows. William caught it, now smirking. “Song’s already started. Gotta wait for the next one.”

We all watched for a minute as the people on the dance floor went about their thing. Quite a few of the girls were looking our direction, waiting for William. A few of the men were waiting for me.

The next song started and William sauntered out, muttering something while shaking his head. He was a little stiff when he got into the song, but loosened up quickly and once again owned the dance floor. He was saving his best moves for this song, as I did with my second song. It looked like he had some dancing background, and he put it all on display. He did more funny moves where mine were sexy, but he still looked fantastic. Girls would probably pick him, guys would go either way, and I would probably lose because of the split. Totally not fair!

Dance done, it was time for us both to dance, but not with each other. As I walked out, William stopped me and asked Adam, “Why don’t we skip to dancing with each other? I think we know what each other can do.”

Adam looked from him, to me, to him again. He turned to Ty, “Judges ruling...”

Ty shrugged, smile growing. “Go for it.”

Butterflies swarmed my belly as I woodenly kept walking, straight at the sexiest man I’d ever seen. His eyes were wolfish as my body closed the distance. I kept reminding myself that it was only a contest, that he was only trying to win, but my eyes couldn’t help scanning his body, focusing on that delicious chest, his strong legs, his tight bulge.

As I stopped in front of him, six inches away, he leaned slightly, his sweet breath splashing my cheeks. I thought he was going to kiss me. I half reached my hands to him with that intention, until he said, in a theater voice, “No holds bar, cupcake. I can out sex you any day of the week, and twice as hard when liquored up.”

Expectations bowed and flexed, somersaulted, and came back with different goals. I’d never heard him talk like that. I’d never been so turned on in my life.

I’d never wanted to win so badly.

“Is that so?” I replied, confident. “Bring it on, fruit...”

The music blared, washing out my words. He stepped closer, his eyes gleaming. In a quick movement, he pushed his body into mine, his knee fitting snuggly between my thighs. He dipped his hips, feeling the rhythm, taking me with him.

A coy smile on my face, I backed away. No way was he leading this dance. He leads, he calls the shots, he wins.

Not on my time, dirty mouth!

He stalked me with his eyes and smiled. He knew exactly what I was doing.

He started dancing on his own, waiting me out, figuring out what I would do.