Mr. Darcy's Kiss

I hesitated. Not because I thought he would end up like Cute-but-awful guy, or because I didn't want to. I really wanted to dance with Mr. Darcy. I wanted to dance and then do so much more than dancing. And that's what scared me.

“You may,” I replied, mimicking his formality before I considered all the consequences. It was just a dance. What harm could a dance do?

The music changed to the next song. A steady, pounding bass beat thrummed across the dance floor like a heartbeat. My hips moved on their own to the tempo, dancing to the sultry music all on their own.

Mr. Darcy's hands went to my hips. They were strong and confident as he guided me in the motions of our dance. He knew exactly what he was doing as he put my body against his. I could feel the strength of his muscles under his jacket, and he moved with a natural grace.

The music throbbed, and I ached with it as Mr. Darcy danced with me. His hand glided down my side, teasing me with his touch while still being completely PG. The trace of his fingers left my skin tingling for more.

I wrapped my arms around the back of his neck, drawing the two of us in closer. There was nothing now but the two of us and the heavy, throbbing need of the music. His hips went slow with mine, keeping just enough distance without letting me forget where he was.

Every move was primal and sexual. Every cell in my body turned on, wanting to know what it would be like to feel this without clothes. My pulse pounded to the beat of the dance.

I bit my bottom lip, trying to keep myself grounded as I lost myself to him. Mr. Darcy was in complete control, and I was fine with that. He made every motion, every move, sexy as hell. It was sex on the dance floor and the hottest thing I'd ever experienced with my clothes on.

I looked up, my lip still between my teeth as I met his eyes.

Blue like the ocean, even in the dark of the club. They captured me and held me there, stronger than any rope. I didn't want to leave the gaze of those eyes.

Emotions that I wasn't ready for flooded through me. I wanted him. I was incredibly attracted to him. I wanted to feel his skin under my fingers and see if he was this good a dancer in the bedroom. Heat flooded my core at the thought of the pleasure he was sure to give me. I was going to give into him.

Yet, somewhere, my brain came back. I knew he was an ass. He was a jerk just looking for his next lay. In that respect, he was no better than Cute-but-awful guy. He was just a better dancer.

I stumbled back, needing to figure out why my body was so attracted to him when my head knew better. I should never have danced with him. I should never have let myself feel the strength of the man under the suit.

My heel slipped, catching on the dance floor and my balance flew out the window. Yet, I didn't fall. Mr. Darcy rescued me, yet again. He pulled me into his body, holding me directly against him. His heart pounded with mine. I heated instantly, my skin crying out for his touch. If anything, the desire this time was almost unbearable.

I looked up again, finding those ocean eyes. They held a storm that I wanted to experience. I wanted to kiss him. I wanted to do so much more than just kiss him, but that seemed like a good starting point.

I licked my lips. He tipped his head, apparently thinking the same thing I was. I couldn't believe that I was about to do this, yet I wanted to so badly. My body was overriding my head and taking what it wanted.

I closed my eyes, letting myself go. This was what I wanted. A kiss to start.

The sharp chime of broken glass made us both look up before we connected.

I pulled away, the spell he'd woven over me broken. I couldn't believe what I was doing. I was going to kiss the man who bragged about me being an easy shag? It had to have been the champagne or the fact that he'd saved me. That was it. He'd saved me, and I wanted to kiss him because of that.

Sure. I could believe that.

I looked over at the broken glass to find my sister the cause of it.

She was up on the bar, dancing and knocking over drinks with every wobbly step. Two security guards were in the process of trying to get her down, but she was fighting them.

My heart sank. Why did she always have to go so far overboard to be noticed?

“Lydia!” I managed to get over to the bar just as the two guards set her on the ground. “What are you doing?”

She pulled her arms away from the guards

and smoothed her hair. “What? How else am I supposed to get noticed? Have you seen how hot the people are here?”

Mr. Darcy pulled the guards to the side as I yanked my sister away from the broken glass.

“You can't dance on the bar,” I told her.

“Why not? They are.” She pointed to the professional dancers hired by the club dancing up on a different bar. One that wasn't covered in drinks.

“That's because they work here. You don't,” I informed her. I looked over to see Mr. Darcy calmly speaking with the bouncers and pointing up toward the VIP area.