In one second, I was in Trigger’s hold. The next Hunter had me.
But I knew something had snapped on Trigger’s wrist as I spun into Hunter’s arms. Trigger stared down at his fingers and screamed. His music drowned the noise. A few of his boys hurried to him.
Hunter held me in his arms and guided me to the center of the dance floor. A few in the crowd held their phones up, snapping and recording us.
Hunter tilted my way and whispered in my ear, “York is no longer allowed to manage you. He’s letting too many idiots come around you.”
I glanced over my shoulder. Trigger had moved to the stage as his manager checked his fingers. More cameras snapped. Some of his boys started harassing the people around, telling them to put up their cameras. And when I turned back to Hunter, a grin spread across his face.
“What did you do?” I asked.
“I wanted to hurt him more, but I knew you wouldn’t appreciate it.” Hunter pulled me into his arms. “So, instead, we’ll dance a little.”
“O-kay.”
“It’ll look more normal that way, so we won’t go viral.”
I swallowed and looked at the crowd. “I think it’s too late for that. That’s going viral.”
Hunter gazed over my shoulder. “We should probably go anyway. Your ex looks like he wants to show how brave he is.”
I checked behind me again.
Trigger glared at his men as he gestured toward Hunter.
“Yeah. We should go.” I tried to hurry us off the dance floor, but Hunter wasn’t having it.
“But, just give me one song, even though it’s a shitty one.” And with the way he said it, I knew he wasn’t doing it for anything else but to be close.
He wants me just as much as I want him.
And it felt so good to be in his arms.
Following Hunter’s expert lead, we flowed with the music, rocking with the rhythm, feeling the tempo throb through our feet. My body’s temperature rose to scorching. A bead of sweat trickled between my breasts.
Others walked out onto the dance floor. It became packed with warm bodies and spicy scents. The air reverberated with licks from the sensual Latin guitar. Everyone was having a good time. Moving to the music. Drifting on the tempo.
And in my arms, he unraveled a little.
I gazed up at him as we grooved to the beat. All the hard edges seemed to have melted to smooth, fluid lines. Lines I yearned to stroke. Even his face, usually hard as stone, had softened to sensual gorgeousness.
The next sensation I became aware of was more heat. It radiated from his body in undulating waves. With it came his scent as I slid my hands up his arms to his shoulders and started moving with him. His scent surrounded me, and it was dark and dangerous, sexy and utterly intoxicating. I breathed him in, deep and slow, and felt the tips of my breasts press against his chest, hardening to tight, painful peaks.
I want you, Hunter.
I struggled for balance and lost. All I felt was him, and my body was very aware of how close we were.
The music and Hunter consumed me, sexually charging the moment. The sway of his hips went from rhythm to a clear invitation. The subtle brush of his thighs against mine told me that he was losing control.
His warm breath slipped against my face. He wrapped me tightly against him, lowered his head. His stubbled cheek brushed my temple and he drew me closer still.
My chest ached. My pussy clenched. How many times had I dreamed of a moment like this? One where he was touching me, holding me. Brushing his lips against my face.
A new song came on.
We continued to dance.
And the dark ache intensified into greedy need.
The dance transitioned to something more. Something intimate, deeply arousing. It probably wasn’t intentional, but as we slipped our bodies against each other, his thick erection pressed against my stomach.
Damn, Hunter.
I became entranced. I loved how he felt moving against me. I loved the feel of his hands on my waist. They tenderly caressed, slipping to the small of my back, then to my hips, and then his fingers splayed wide as he gripped my ass.
My body trembled under him. Shock came, and then lust.
“This,” he whispered against my ear, “was a really, really bad idea.”
His lips whispered across the shell of my ear, his message was very clear. While he might’ve not wanted to confess his desire for me earlier, he was damn sure willing to explore the matter more.
We danced, two people crowded by others. Lights glowing. Cameras flashing. But our dance felt like something more. It was a lingering caress, a hot moment of clarity.
“Zola,” he whispered as the song ended on a haunting note.
His body stilled long before he stopped moving against me. Before the next song came on, he gestured for us to leave.