25. Good Surprise? #2
“I said, no one is going to be paying attention to us. And you have nothing to be concerned about, anyway. You’re a natural at this.” He begins to lead me through the crowd. Once we make it to the bar, he waves down a bartender and orders a Singapore Sling before looking at me. “What do you want?”
You.
Where the hell did that thought come from?
“Um, what’s in a Singapore Sling?” I ask, shaking off the sudden desire that I don’t know how to process.
“It’s gin based. Do you like gin?”
I shake my head. “I’ll just get a French Martini, please.”
The bartender nods and heads off to make both our cocktails.
“No Pina Colada’s this time?” Aiden asks, leaning in close again so I can hear him.
All it does is ramp up the desire, the smell of his aftershave filling my senses.
What the hell do they put in the water in this country? Why am I suddenly so turned on by everything he does?
I shake my head, forcing myself to focus. “Uh, no. Not sure I’ll be able stomach one of those ever again. ”
He grins, opening his mouth to reply, but pausing when the guy next to me accidentally bumps me into my side.
Aiden raises an eyebrow and fixes our clumsy neighbour with a stern look before turning and pulling me close, pressing his chest against my back.
He shuffles us around so that we are facing the dance floor, but he keeps me in place, his arms circling my waist.
Holy hell. The charismatic Aiden that I met that first night is definitely back with a vengeance and my body is completely on board with it. My head, however, is a swirl of confusion.
I’m not used to male attention like this and am so far out of my depth.
Should I do something to show him I’m interested? No, he’s my boss!
While my body and my head have a stand off with each other, our drinks arrive.
Aiden hands me mine before grabbing his and taking my hand again.
We find an empty table and take a seat, both watching the dance floor.
The absence of his touch gives me a chance to try and get my emotions under control.
Because once we’re dancing, it’s going to take all of my self control not to do something stupid.
Like kiss him. Cause he’s looking pretty damn kissable now.
“What’s that look for?” he asks, his voice raised while leaning back in his chair and nursing his drink.
“Oh, nothing. Was just thinking.” And of course, now I’m blushing.
I take a mouthful of my cocktail and turn to face the dance floor. I’m supposed to be watching the dancing couples, after all.
We watch in companionable silence, the music too loud to be able to have a meaningful conversation anyway.
The chemistry between the couples is electric, and some of them look like they are seconds from tearing each other’s clothes off.
Trying to push aside the fact that I’m turned on by all the sexual tension in the air, I finish my cocktail far too quickly, and I look over to see Aiden draining the last of his .
“Alright, enough watching. Let’s dance.” He gets to his feet and takes my hand again.
Leading me out into the crowd of dancers, he finds a spot that’s relatively free and turns to face me, pulling me in close.
“In a crowd this size, we’re going to have to dance a bit closer,” he says, his lips at my ear.
Grateful he can’t see my face while I do my best not to turn into a puddle right here, I nod. He waits a few seconds, his body swaying from side to side, and I know he’s getting a sense of the beat, before leading me into the steps.
I don’t know how he does it, but I stop paying attention to my feet and he guides us effortlessly into a fast-paced salsa, spinning me out and pulling me back in with ease.
It’s addictive, this feeling of dancing with someone who not only knows what they’re doing but is able to take the lead and basically take control of my body.
When my hair swings around and hits him about a thousand times, he pauses, pulling the hair tie from my wrist. Turning me so that I have my back to him, he pulls my hair back gently into a messy bun, and the feel of his fingers gently touching my scalp gives me goosebumps.
It’s such a tender action, so at odds with where we are.
Hair secured, he pulls me back into his arms and I lose count of how many songs we dance for.
The night eventually grows late, and I reluctantly point out that we have to get up early for the first day of the conference tomorrow.
He nods. “Last dance then?”
I smile, and the song changes to a slower paced one.
“Oh, this is Bachata. It’s a bit different to salsa. It’s still four steps though. Want to give it a try?”
I glance at the couples around us, noticing that the moves of this style of dance appear to have entered a whole new level of sexy. Swallowing hard, I nod slowly.
He pulls me in, wedging his thigh between both of mine. I gasp when our bodies press flush against each other, our noses almost touching.
“Is this okay?” he asks.
Unable to find my voice, I simply nod, and he begins swaying us from side to side in time with the beat. The electricity between us reaches an entirely different level when he begins to lead me through spins and dips.
Without thinking, when he spins me in towards him, I rest my hand on his cheek, our gazes locking.
His eyes flare and something almost primal seems to come over him.
Spinning me so that my back is flush against his chest, he runs his nose down my neck while continuing to guide my body through the steps, pushing my hips away before pulling them back quickly in a wave like motion.
Our bodies roll together and I’m pretty sure my heart is about to beat out of my chest.
As the song nears the crescendo, he spins me back around, hiking my thigh up to his hip and leaning back, my body following his so that I’m pressed entirely against him with only one foot on the ground.
Holy shit. Am I on fire? I feel like I’m on fire.
As the song ends, we stop moving, our bodies so close we may as well be one body at this point. Both of us are breathing hard, our lips are only millimetres apart. All it would take is for one of us to move a fraction and we’d be kissing.
His gaze drops to my lips, and I can feel the war within his body, tension rolling through the muscles in his back beneath my hands.
With what looks like incredible restraint, he steps back a little and forces a smile.
“Come on, we should head back to the hotel.”
He steps completely out of my arms, not taking my hand for the first time all evening, and it’s like I’ve been left out in the cold. The loss of his touch leaves me feeling empty and wondering what the hell just happened .
Knowing he did the right thing by stopping, I follow him silently, and he keeps a healthy distance between our bodies while we wait for a cab. I pull out my phone for something to do, hoping to distract myself from what almost just happened.
The ride home is just as quiet. When we reach our floor at the hotel, he looks at me properly for the first time since we left the club when we come to a stop outside my door.
“Goodnight, Tara.” There’s something off about his expression, and I have to stop myself from reaching out to touch him.
There’s no denying the desire on both our sides, but it has to just be the confusion from all the close dancing for the last few hours.
I tap my keycard to the door and push down the handle, still holding his gaze. “Goodnight, Aiden.”
Once the door closes behind me, I lean back against it, placing a hand over my chest and feeling my heart racing beneath it.
And it’s a long time before I hear the door next to mine open and close.