Chapter 7
Jamison
“Wow,” Miss Leslie called out, pulling me from the depths of Sadie’s lustful gaze.
I stood bringing her with me. When I knew she was balanced, I released her and shoved my hands in my sweats’ pockets wishing I’d worn jeans or something.
The sweats were not helping to hide the effect she had on me.
How one intense look could make my dick twitch.
How when her breath caught it pushed her tits into my chest and made my blood rush.
How the blush warming her neck made me want to press my lips to her pulse.
“I was planning on showing you a basic step like that, but we can skip past it into more exciting stuff. You have great chemistry, people are gonna think you’re getting married.” Miss Leslie laughed, but her words worked like an ice bath. “Well, we have a great starting point!”
“Great,” Sadie choked out.
“Sadie, you have a tendency to place your feet a bit more narrow, I want you to focus on creating space for”—Miss Leslie squinted her eyes in my direction—”I’m sorry what am I supposed to call you?”
“Jamison, please,” I answered.
Turning her attention back to Sadie, Miss Leslie continued, “Create space for Jamison’s foot to move between yours. But I’m so impressed with how well you are following his lead. It takes a lot of trust to follow.”
The pink on Sadie’s cheeks deepened, but I doubted Miss Leslie was watching close enough to notice.
Pointing to me, she said, “I’d love for you to loosen up a bit. It feels like you’re holding yourself very tight. Let’s just play around.”
Loosen up, I almost snorted at the impossibility of her directive.
She started the song over, and I almost asked if we could have a less .
. . intimate . . . sexual song, but I didn’t want to be the only person bothered by it.
So, I swallowed down the way it reminded me of Sadie, of the way I wanted to take care of her, and I placed her once again in the frame of my arms. Her eyes flicked up to mine through the curtain of her lashes then away before I guided her to move with me.
And she responded.
This time, her movements were more fluid having picked up on the simple steps quickly. We repeated them over and over, barely looking at each other.
“Looks good,” Miss Leslie said. “Why don’t you try a turn, Jamison?”
I waited until we were at the sway portion and then turned Sadie under my arm before going back into the steps.
Miss Leslie considered me with her lips pursed to one side; apprehension grew tight in my hands and toes.
I was able to keep my fingers from flexing to relieve the tension, but inside of my shoes, my toes curled and uncurled.
She had the look of someone who was going to urge me out of my comfort zone.
I hated leaving my comfort zone.
“Sadie, why don’t you turn Jamison?”
My stomach dropped, instantly concerned by how foolish I was going to look. An argument sat on the tip of my tongue, but the spark of joy that lit Sadie’s eyes made me keep it to myself.
Her face broke into a huge grin, the energy around her shifting into her usual playfulness—like so many times before, I let it sweep away some of my control. It eased me into a willingness that nothing else in my life ever had.
“Okay,” she giggled. “How?”
The corner of my mouth pulled into a lopsided smile before I forced it back to neutral. “Lift our hands over my head in a sorta circular motion.”
She did, but not quite high enough for me to go under without crouching and turning my head sideways.
I snorted. “A little higher.”
“Or maybe you could be a little shorter.”
“Or you could be a little taller.” Her shit-eating grin was doing something to my ability to hang onto a thought.
“No, I’m perfect just like this.”
“Yes, you are.”
Her expression faltered, and I was desperate to keep her mood elevated but I didn’t know how.
Miss Leslie clicked her remote to pause the music approaching us with a pleased purse to her lips.
“When you go to do it, you’re going to get even closer to him so your arm can extend over his head more.
But the height difference is always gonna be there, and he will just have to crouch some.
That was playful and fun. Perfect! Let’s do it again. ”
The Weeknd started singing, moments later we started moving and this time when she initiated the turn her movements were more confident. I almost fit under the clasp of our hands. As soon as I returned to face her the pride set in the corners of her lips made my heart skip a beat.
God, she was fucking cute.
I sent her around me like an orbiting planet, her hand trailed my shoulders marking her progress. In the mirror, I watched her saunter. Her steps landing on the beat and the motion flowing through her hips like water. I could watch her move for the rest of my life.
How had I never taken her out dancing? I’d forgotten how much I enjoyed this, or maybe it was the excitement that Sadie brought to everything that I really loved.
“How did you make me do that?” she demanded when she was back in front of me. The energy pouring off her crackled in the atmosphere, it was my drug of choice. She made the pressure on my chest lighten—the world around me brighter. My head swam, and warmth settled in my gut.
“I can only guide you. You made that move worth it.”
“Okay, we need some fun music,” Miss Leslie interjected. A different song with a faster pop tempo started—I didn’t recognize it or the voice of the singer. “Go ahead and do the same base step, but the movement will have to be smaller because the beat is faster.”
I didn’t give myself a chance to feel insecure or for the voice in my head to whisper how many mistakes I might make.
Instead, I took hold of Sadie’s waist and moved with her for no other reason than the enjoyment of it.
She smiled up at me and laughed with her whole body when I spun us in circle after circle, her ponytail caught in the centrifugal force.
She held on tight, and didn’t loosen her grip when I stopped for us to sway twice before stepping back into the song.
“Alright, alright,” Miss Leslie called out, her voice was lighthearted, but I didn’t want the interruption. I kept Sadie against me, slowing our movements to a halt with great dislike.
It might have just been wishful thinking, but the way Sadie’s hands slid down my arm to fall by her side seemed like she didn’t want to break our contact either.
“My work is not done here, even though you two look like you’ve been dancing together your whole lives,” Miss Leslie said.
“Let’s do a side dip. Sadie, you’re going to walk to Jamison’s side—you extend your arm nearest to her—take his hand.
Roll into his side, so both of your arms wrap around her waist. Perfect.
Jamison, when she’s snug against your side like that, take her other hand, keep her secure. Ya got a good hold?”
I nodded, I would never let her fall. But I was only partially aware of the direction, most of my attention was on Sadie and how perfectly we fit. She was all soft curves, and intensity wrapped up in a petite body.
I liked her more than was safe.
I liked the feel of her more than I should.
A couple of nights we spent together, the realization had struck me with enough force to make me run.
I should want to run away now.
But I didn’t.
“Now, widen your stance, and lean away from her bending that knee. Very Fred Astaire.”
Possibly it was, but I wasn’t watching me. Not with the way Sadie’s eyes in our reflection took in the flex of my biceps and the movement of my thighs.
Restarting the song, Miss Leslie directed, “Let’s run through that a couple more times and then I’d like to see you incorporate it into moving with the basic step.”
We ran it over and over until it felt fairly natural.
“That’s pretty down pat.” She held out her hands, in a calm down motion.
“Now, this next one is high drama, so do not pull it out unless you feel confident that you will not outperform the bride and groom. They need to shine brighter than you—which the way you two look together . . . ”—she pinched her lips together and raised her eyebrows—”good luck to them. ”
She ran us through a sequence that placed Sadie and me chest to chest, with her arms circling my neck. My arms held her tightly as I rotated her toward the ground. My mind was blank, instead my body moved independently—too absorbed in every contact point between us.
Miss Leslie said to Sadie, “You’re dropping your head as soon as your arms loop around him. I don’t want you to do that, I want you to wait until the very last moment and then let your head fall.”
Starting from the beginning of the sequence, Sadie turned into me and lifted her arms but not quite soon enough, causing her elbow to graze my cheek.
She covered her lips with her fingertips and stared up at me with wide eyes. “Oh no, are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” My hands found her hips.
“I’m so sorry.” Her fingers barely touched my jaw, tilting her head to check for any damage to my face.
I rubbed a circle into her hip bones.
“Don’t worry about it, baby.” My mouth froze on the last word, my neck growing hot wondering if I’d ever called her that.
I might have thought it a thousand times before but had the presence of mind to keep pet names to myself.
I might have been able to pretend like it didn’t happen if Sadie hadn’t stopped breathing. She stood statue-still.
“It happens,” Miss Leslie said in a calming tone snapping us free of whatever had taken hold. She ran Sadie through the movements and timing again maintaining absolute professionalism with only a hint of curiosity in her dark eyes.
This time when we went through the dip, Sadie rotated into my hold, circling my neck with her arms just like they were supposed to, I lowered her with our gazes locked.
The rest of the world faded. Her breath whispered along my jaw.
It would take so little effort to kiss her.
Probably less energy than it took to not, to only hold her.
Just when I thought I might not be able to resist any longer, her head fell back with a sigh.