He yanked her leggings to her ankles and pulled one side completely off, along with her shoe. It freed up her legs, which he lifted and spread, pinning her against the siding with one knee shoved to her shoulder. He held it there as he wrestled down his joggers and freed his cock.
His eyes met hers for the span of a moment, and in that precious space between them, she felt the promise of a future, a beautiful destiny, their hearts fused, their bodies entangled, and their souls forged as one.
As he pushed inside her, he watched her like a man in love, his eyes drunk on happiness, and his dimpled mouth parted in wonder.
Utterly possessed, she captured that mouth and sank into the flames.
He fucked her against the house. Then he fixed her clothes, carried her inside, and made love to her in his bed. Neither of them said the words, but she felt it in every touch, every kiss, every whispered breath.
“Only two days left.” She lay in his arms after, stroking the stubble on his chiseled jaw.
“I want to dance with you.”
That wouldn’t be possible at the nightclubs in Europe. She would have to dance alone to draw in the hacker. The team would take up posts around the perimeter, watching for threats and keeping her safe.
“I have a confession.” She made a face. “I hate dancing.”
“Okay.”
“Okay? I don’t think you understand. I’m doing this for my dad. For Mike. When it’s over, I’ll be happy to never step onto a dance floor again.”
“What about slow dancing?”
“With you?” Her chest fluttered. “Yeah, I’d be down for that.”
“Good.” He brushed their lips together. “I still want a fast, hip-grinding dance with you. Just one.”
“Okay.” She would happily give him anything he wanted.
As it turned out, he got his wish on their last night in Missouri.
After dinner, Danni asked everyone to gather in the dance room. The entire gang stood around—Cole, Trace, the six Freedom Fighters—watching Danni circle Lydia at the center.
“You mastered the technical part of club dancing.” Danni paused behind her, sliding soft, sensual fingers down her inked arms. “There’s another aspect of this that isn’t dancing at all. It’s basically flirting. Grinding provocatively. Fucking with your clothes on.”
Across the room, Cole stiffened, his eyes narrowing.
“Calm down.” Danni pointed a finger at him and returned to Lydia. “You can do this with the women on the dance floor. Take everything I taught you and make it sexual. Touch them in ways you both like. It’s about turning each other on. But there will be men, and they’re going to flock to you with their tongues hanging out.” Danni shifted back to Cole. “Most of the people who frequent nightclubs aren’t there to dance. They’re there to participate in a clothes-on, fluid-free orgy. Loud music. Simple, mindless beats. Lots of sweaty people who can’t hear one another talk. It’s a non-verbal, dry-humping fuckfest without the penetration. If you want to succeed in this mission, you will swallow your caveman ego and deal with it.”
Lydia burst into laughter. She couldn’t help it. Cole looked so miserable.
His nostrils flared. His face turned red, and his jaw clenched to the point of breaking. But after a few seconds, he gave a nod.
“We’re going to practice.” Danni dimmed the lights and moved to the stereo as she addressed the room. “Doesn’t matter if you can dance or not. You’re here for the orgy. Lydia needs to test her skills with random bodies rubbing up against her. Let’s see some dirty dancing.”
Danni started the music—a rapid iteration of electronic beats. It took several seconds for Lydia to loosen up enough to move. When she did, she kept her movements subtle and tight, remaining right where she was, waiting to see what the others would do.
Trace moved first, heading straight to his wife and wrapping his body around her back. They rolled as one, dipping and sliding like they’d danced together a million times. No doubt they had.
Cole stayed at the edge of the room, his hands at his sides, swaying to the music with his eyes locked on Lydia, stoking a fire in her belly.
Someone came up behind her. Small hands rested on her hips. She turned, finding Kate’s pretty face smiling back, her body rocking with confidence.
Within seconds, she was surrounded. Tiago, Matias, and Tate favored the two-step side-to-side motion. Simple. Relaxed. Not a hint of awkwardness or discomfort. The women were bolder in their movements. None of them were dancers, but their assertiveness and self-possession more than made up for any lack of technical skill.
This group didn’t have a shy bone between them, and sweet Lord, they were sexual.
Through the next few songs, each of them danced with her in turn, rolling their bodies with smooth, deliberate, erotic suggestion, hips to hips, pressing in tight, and grinding with the motion of sex.