“Can I buy you a drink?”
“Looking for something? Someone? Me?”
The pickup lines came and Ari skirted past them all, smiling at the guys, but kept her eyes jaded. That’s not what she came for. At least not on purpose.
The only offer she entertained was a dance. Of her choosing. They had to already be on the dance floor. Feeling the music on their own. Male or female. It didn’t matter. All she wanted was a dance partner, maybe the heat of skin next to hers.
The energy shift on the floor was fast, the hip-hop music turning decidedly rap. She looked over her shoulder and saw a guy doing a handstand, challenging gravity in some kind of breakdance move.
“What’s this?” she yelled at the girl next to her. “Break dancing?”
“Kind of,” she said. “It’s this parkour thing? Freerunning.You know, the flips and stuff?”
Ari had seen it before—on the Internet. Crazy guys leaping from rooftops and taking backflips off subway walls.
“There’s a group of guys that do it here in the city. Occasionally, they show up in clubs like this.” Both women watched as another guy joined in doing a series of choreographed back handsprings. “They’re hot right?”
Ari snorted. Hot was an understatement. The strength required to do the tricks was obvious, as were the muscles under their shirts. “Holy crap,” Ari said, seeing the tight stomach on one of the guys peeking out from under his shirt. He flipped from his back to an upright position and his dark eyes met hers.
The song ended and the guys were swallowed into the crowed. Ari tried to find them, any of them, but there were too many people clogging up the dance floor. She checked her watch and saw it was near one. She needed to go soon so she wouldn’t be a zombie at work the next day, but she’d just started to relax.
She reentered the dance floor and got lost in the throng of dancers. A couple guys tried to grab her arms but she shook them off, uninterested. She knew whom she was looking for. Mating and dating and anything of the sort could only be called a game. Chasing was part of the thrill. Ari had more pride than to chase a guy down in a bar, but four years of partying during college taught how to lure one out.
Ari spotted him in the middle of the floor, dancing with a group of girls in the hazy light. Fangirls from the looks of them. One had her finger in his belt loop, near the button. Another had a fistful of shirt at his side. Possessive much?
Spinning away from him, Ari found the closest guy and began to dance. Nothing dirty, she didn’t want to cross any lines, but her hips swayed to the beat and the guy she’d picked was more than willing to be her partner. He had a shaggy mop of hair, kind of like Oliver’s except it glowed
red like a halo in the lights near the stage. Damp with sweat, it fell into his eyes. He brushed it aside and Ari saw the hooped ring through his eyebrow. She moved her head to the music, laughing a little at his skinniness, the way his pants slid off his hips. They were saved by a leather belt.
Ari felt the lightest touch on her back, near the tattoo that peeked out of the top of her shirt. Maybe not even a touch. Perhaps just energy. She didn’t look. She wouldn’t dare. Not yet.
What she did do was shift her body backwards, not enough to touch the guy behind her, but enough to enter his zone. Despite their lack of physical contact, the guy behind her must have put off quite the vibe, because the boy in the droopy pants figured it out quick enough, giving Ari a little wave before turning toward another girl.
The tempo notched up again and Ari moved closer to her new partner, yet never touching or speaking. Her chest shuddered with each beat, releasing the stress from her body. She wanted to exhaust herself, forget about armed robbers and child prostitution. She closed her eyes and danced.
The song shifted and Ari turned. She opened her eyes taking in the man in front of her. Shaved head. Light brown skin. Tall and slim, but ripped. She’d seen his abs before. The way he looked at her in return set her stomach on fire, and she ached to feel his hands on her skin. Something hard to cut away at the numbness. She lifted an eyebrow and tilted her head just a bit. Then she left the dance floor.
It was impossible to tell which beat harder, her heart or the music. Ari made her way through the crowd. She’d never done anything like this without a wingman—someone to keep an eye out and make sure there wasn’t any trouble. She liked to have fun, but her job made her aware of the dangers lurking in seedy bars and dark dance clubs.
Yet, she couldn’t seem to make herself care. Not now.
Pushing past the bar, Ari made her way to a dark corner. Taking a deep breath, she turned around and sure enough, he’d followed her. Dark-eyed and dangerous.
“Hi,” she said.
“Hi.”
“I saw you out there, doing that stuff, the parkour?”
“Yeah.”
Ari considered that he might be stupid or slow or something, but the smile on his face said otherwise. He knew what she wanted.
“I just…you know…don’t ever…”
“Right.” He nodded. “Me—”
Desperate, she cut him off, grabbing at him with needy hands. Her fingers wove into the cotton of his shirt and she pulled him forward, kissing him on the mouth. The connection felt like a jolt of electricity running through her veins, melting the numbness, bringing her to life in the most dangerous way. She didn’t care, and obviously, neither did he, because his hands lifted her up, pressing her back into the wall.