Throttled: Dirty Air (Book 1)(40)
A crowd of dancing couples engulfs us. I dance around with a middle-aged man who has gelled-back hair and smells strongly of alcohol. My eyes search for Sophie between songs, but I can’t find her. The man’s hand creeps its way toward my ass at the same moment I conveniently step on his toes. Hard. He lets out a yelp while I fake an apology.
Music shifts to a classic salsa song DJs play at our clubs back home. A shadow looms over my dance partner. By now, I can recognize the reason for the tingle in my spine anywhere. Two months of resisting him does that. Strobe lights basking him in an ominous glow, my naughty knight in a shining tux sizes up my pervy dance partner.
“Mind if I cut in?” Noah’s irritated voice carries over the music. Or am I hearing things? Alcohol confuses my brain.
The man sputters out a reply as he lets me go. Noah grabs my hand while placing another at the dip in my back right above my ass. It feels way less invasive than my previous dance partner, like his hand should be there. Plus, Noah doesn’t smell like whiskey and old money. He needs to bottle up his scent and sell it on the mass market. I would buy a few bottles and spray it on my pillows at night, not creepily of course.
I smile at the idea. Real mature, Maya.
He shakes his head like he can’t believe the sorry state I’m in at the moment. He and I both.
I place a hand on his shoulder. His tux feels smooth under my fingertips, the strained material pressing against his muscles.
“I thought you were avoiding me because I haven’t seen you at any of the events this week.”
I think out my reply carefully. Well, as carefully as alcohol allows me to.
“Where did you learn to dance salsa?” Suave change of subject if I do say so myself.
His deep laugh makes me feel all warm inside.
“I lived in Europe long enough to pick up on it.” He sways us to the music.
A kernel of jealousy blossoms at the idea of Noah dancing with other girls.
“Hmm. Cool.” I feign indifference, but I can’t tell if I succeeded.
Noah turns me, pulling my back to his front. My ass presses against his crotch as his hand runs down my arm.
“Uh, we learned two different types of salsa. They didn’t teach me this in class.”
The rumble of his chest is the only response I get.
I look around, curious if anyone else sees this. My body molds into his. A crowd of people dances to the music, oblivious of Noah’s advances as his stiff cock presses against my ass cheeks. I press into him, unintentionally of course.
Sign me up for the next confession slot.
Turns out Noah seems into this back and forth, or lack thereof. He moves us along to the music. One of his hands presses on my hip, holding me flushed against him while his other hand pushes my hair away from my neck.
“Did you wear that color dress for me?” His husky voice makes my head swim. How can he tell what color my dress is when it’s dark outside?
“It’s navy. What do you mean?” Okay, it isn’t. But boys suck at knowing anything beyond basic colors.
“Hmm, weird. On your Insta story it looked like the same color as my eyes. But maybe I’m wrong, just seeing things.”
“That’s often a sign of narcissism. You should get yourself checked out when you have a chance. I don’t do everything to appease you.” Unfiltered words flow from my mouth.
He shuts me up by pushing his rigid length into me. I groan at the feeling, my body heating up at his boldness.
“Tell me you’re not affected by this connection between us.” His husky whisper sends a shiver down my spine. He trails a finger down the length of my throat to my collarbone, stopping right above my cleavage.
No way I will admit anything to him.
“Not sure what you’re talking about. Do you try this with all your floozies?” Who the hell says floozies anymore? Alcohol makes me stupid. So, so stupid.
“I think you know.” His hands grip me possessively as our hips move to the music. I withhold a moan as my head rolls back into his chest, his dick pressing into my ass, a hint at the size of him.
He blows hot air into the shell of my ear, causing my core to pulse with need. My body burns wherever he touches, his fingers skimming down the smooth material of my dress. A delicate layer protecting my body from his touch.
“You drive me crazy. I keep thinking about fucking you, wondering how you sound when you explode in ecstasy. The moans you’ll make while you greedily take my cock. Is it breathy? Loud?”
My stomach flutters at the sensation of his teeth grazing my ear lobe. I tilt my head to the side, giving him better access to my neck, his lips trailing kisses down the curve of it. His touch makes me pant. My resolve slips, begging me to give into him.
Take me home, I want to say. But I don’t, letting my body say the words my mouth can’t get out.
It’s a problem for future me.
What’s one night with him? We’re adults who can keep a secret.
Noah senses my submission. His lips press against the hollow of my throat, his tongue darting out to taste me, making my body shudder as he sucks on the sensitive skin.
Someone grabs my hand and tugs me away, cold air hitting my skin in Noah’s absence. He growls at the intrusion.
“Maya, just the girl I’ve been looking for. Your brother is searching for you. You remember him, right? Noah’s teammate.” Sophie emphasizes her words. How did she even find us in this crowd, a cluster of bodies dancing together?