Part 8 (1/2)

”I'll tell you a secret,” he whispers in my ear. ”I can't dance.”

”Everyone can dance,” I say.

”No, really. I can't. It's worse than them.” He motions toward Jake and Finn, who now have a five-foot diameter of empty dance floor around them. Are they seriously break dancing?

I shake my head, embarra.s.sed. ”That's not dancing. That's ... I don't know what that is.”

”Painful to watch.”

”Okay, yeah, that. I can teach you,” I say.

”What?”

”I said, 'I can teach you,'” I shout over the music. I point at his eyes and back at my own.

Then I straighten my back, and Maverick matches my posture. ”Now, your right hand goes here.” I place it on my shoulder. ”And your left is at my waist, like this. Bend your elbow. Good.”

I remove my hold of him to clap out the beats of the music. ”Listen. There are eight even counts. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight.” I repeat it a few times, my hips moving to the music. ”Do you hear it?”

He shakes his head. ”No.”

I smile. ”I'll lead. Start with your left foot first, and stay on the b.a.l.l.s of your feet.” He rises all the way up on his tiptoes and c.o.c.ks his head in question.

”No!” I laugh. ”This isn't ballet. Like this.” I bounce a little on mine to show him. ”Yes, like that. Now step forward, back, and then together.” We're not on time, but we'll work up to it. Basic steps first. ”Now do the same thing with your right foot leading. Front, back, together. Yeah!”

”I'm going to step on your toes.”

”They'll survive, I promise. Let's try faster.” I move with him this time, both of us staring down at our feet. ”One, two, three, four-wait. Pause on four. It's a quick, quick, slow.”

Once Maverick seems to have it, I stop him. ”Okay, let's try it to the counts of the music. Are you ready?”

”No,” he laughs, and his eyes brighten under the flas.h.i.+ng lights. ”Pause on four, right?”

”Right. And keep your back straight.”

He does, but he keeps his chin down to focus on the floor. ”Your toenails are nice.”

They're salmon with eggsh.e.l.l swirls and tiny diamond studs. ”I can paint yours to match later if you want.”

”I'll think about it.”

I count off the first eight, then begin on the second. ”One, two, three. Five, six, seven. One, two, three. Five, six, seven. Quick, quick, slow. Quick, quick, slow. You're getting it.”

He meets my gaze and steps on my toes.

”Oh, G.o.d, I'm sorry,” he says.

”You'll have to look up eventually.” I shake it off. ”Try again?”

He hesitates, but then he reaches for me. He tips his chin down, and I lift it up again. ”Eyes are more important than toes. Focus here.”

”Wow. Jellysnack is bossy. I think I like it.”

I blush at the smirk on his face. ”Only on the dance floor.”

”I might be able to change that. It's s.e.xy when a girl knows what she wants. A lesson for a lesson?”

I clear my throat as I run my fingers through my hair. ”Um, I'll count us off. One, two, three, four. Five, six, seven, and...”

He makes the right first move, and a minute into the song, I stop counting. ”Feel the beats,” I say, putting some sway into my hips.

”You didn't answer my question.”

I try to avoid his gaze again, but with two fingers against my cheek, he moves it back and doesn't let go. His brows perk up as if expecting me to answer.

Heat ripples under my skin. ”Maybe.”

What I don't say is that he already has me. He had me hours ago.

He slides my hair off the side of my neck and kisses me there. My eyelids fall closed, and a noise slips past my lips.

”Is that a yes?” he asks.

”Maybe,” I repeat, my voice more breathy than before.

He kisses me again, and I realize I'm no longer dancing.

”You ready to get out of here?”

I nod.

The door to his hotel room hasn't even clicked closed before Maverick's mouth slams into mine. Hands in my hair, body pressed up against me. Heat pours off him and rises within me. It's been so long since I've let go with a man, but I haven't forgotten how it feels.

I kiss him back with a ferocity I didn't know I had. Maverick's worked all day stoking the coals, and now he's igniting the fire.

He pulls my s.h.i.+rt over my head. Fingers dig into my sides, and already I want to explode. Closer, closer, I need him closer. Our tongues tangle, and Maverick lets a moan slide into my mouth. I can't take this any longer. I jump, wrapping my legs around his hips so I can grind against him.

In my mind, I see scarlet. For pa.s.sion. So much scarlet.

”G.o.d, I want you,” he murmurs.

Maverick grabs my a.s.s and walks us to the bed. He lowers me onto it, and I whimper when he pulls away to remove his s.h.i.+rt. The sun is setting, soft light filtering in through the balcony doors and making Maverick's olive skin glow. He's about to come back to me, but I stop him.

”Pants,” I say, my gaze going to the bulge that needs to be released.

”I thought you said you were only bossy on the dance floor.”

”I thought you said this was a lesson.”

He hones in on my chest. ”Bra.”