9. Nick #3
“Use your listening ears. I said we should dance.” I handed my phone to him. “You pick something. I’m having a brain fart and can’t remember the name of a single song other than Baby Shark.”
“We’re definitely not playing that.” He tapped on the screen a few times. “How about this?”
The opening bars of “Back to December” by Taylor Swift came out of my phone speaker.
“Are you a Swiftie?” I looked between him and the phone.
“Of course. Taylor’s music got me through high school.”
“Another point for the perfect guy column.” I plucked the phone out of his hand and put it on the counter. “Now, show me your moves.”
“I haven’t danced with anyone since prom.”
“So you’re saying you don’t have any moves.”
“Not dance ones.”
“Well, you’re in luck because I’m a fabulous dancer. I’ll teach you to waltz.”
“Waltz? Isn’t that a bit advanced for a first lesson?”
“Nope. It’s not as hard as people think. It’s basically step, slide, step, slide. If you can remember the pattern, then you can waltz. Easy peasy.”
“That doesn’t sound very easy or peasy.” He tapped on my phone screen and stopped the music.
“I promise it’s way easier than it looks. You’ll get it in no time. Unless you’re like Aiden. Are you like Aiden?”
“How is Aiden?”
“He’s got two left feet and no balance. He’s dangerous when he tries to dance.”
“I’m not Aiden. I’m not good at it, but I’ve never caused anyone bodily harm.”
“Then you’ll be fine. Here. I’ll do your part so you can see it.” I moved beside him. “Watch my feet.”
Evan dropped his gaze.
“Now, it’s just step, slide. Step, slide,” I said as I demonstrated the steps. “Watch it again. Step, slide. Step, slide. Got it?”
He nodded, still staring intensely at my feet.
“Now step with me. We’ll go slow, and don’t worry if you mess up. You’re learning a new skill. You’re supposed to mess up.”
“How did you know I needed to hear that?”
“Because you’re a perfectionist workaholic who probably quits everything he’s not immediately good at,” I observed.
“You really do have my number.”
“You’re not as complicated as you seem to think you are. Now, focus on your feet and don’t count in your head. People always make the weirdest faces when they’re counting and it doesn’t help in the long run. Ready?”
“As I’ll ever be.”
I led him through a few minutes of repeating the box step, guiding him through the turns, until he had it.
“Awesome. Now, do that, but no looking down.”
“Okay.”
“And make your dance frame.”
“My what?” He threw me a confused look.
“Your dance frame.” I held up my arms, pantomiming how I’d hold a female partner. “That’s what I like to call it. Engage the muscles and keep your frame strong, but don’t tense up or go stiff. Dancing is all about working hard but making it look effortless.”
He lifted his arms and mimicked me.
“Perfect. Now, keep your frame strong and your head up. Back straight. Good. And smile.” I bit down on a laugh. “I said smile, not bare your teeth like a lunatic.”
“I think smiling might be a bit beyond my skillset at this point.”
“Fine. Glare away but keep your head up and no counting. Ready?”
“No.”
“Too bad. And I’m not counting this time. Find the beat and follow along with it.”
“Beat? From what music?”
“From the music I’m gonna make with my face hole.”
Evan burst out laughing, losing his dancer’s pose as he turned to face me. “Your what?”
“My face hole.” Grinning, I pointed to my mouth. “Now, get ready.”
Still laughing, he resumed his pose.
It took a few minutes, but soon Evan was sweeping across the kitchen like he’d been born to dance.
“Do I have it?” he asked with a big smile when I stopped my music.
“You’ve got it. Now for the real test.” I waved him over. “Doing it with a partner.”
He rested his big, hot hand on my waist, and gripped the other.
“Wait. We need music for this. Hold that pose.” I let go of his hand and grabbed my phone off the counter. “Okay. Now find the beat and start when you’re ready. Just squeeze my waist so I know to start with you.”
He nodded, his eyes boring into mine.
Swallowing hard, I restarted the song and tried to focus on the steps and not on the way Evan was looking at me.
I loved dancing, and I’d done plenty of partnered dancing over the years. None of them had ever looked at me the way Evan was. The heat in his eyes, the intense desire on his face. I usually only saw that look when I was swinging around a pole or gyrating half naked to music.
By the time the song was fading out, my heart was racing, and not from the exertion of dancing.
“You’re a quick study,” I managed, unable to pull away from him, even though we’d stopped moving.
“You’re a good teacher,” he murmured, his eyes on my mouth.
“We should learn a routine or something for your sister’s wedding,” I blurted, needing to say something to stop the spiral of self-doubt I’d fallen into.
Evan had put the brakes on things after that first night in his car. We still messed around, usually on the way home from an event, but not every time. He also hadn’t made any indication that he wanted more.
The few times I’d tried to start something beyond playing with each other’s dicks, he’d rejected me.
I didn’t understand why. He’d told me he wanted me. He never had trouble getting hard around me, and he happily sat back while I did my thing and rocked his world.
Why didn’t he want more?
Was I bad at giving head? No one I’d been with had complained, but none of them were like Evan. They weren’t older and sophisticated and rich. Evan told me he never had issues finding men to hook up with, but did he even consider me a man?
He obviously recognized that I was a cis male, but he called me a kid when he didn’t think I could hear him. Was that how he thought of me? Just a silly kid trying to play with the big boys?
“Something that will knock everyone’s socks off when they see it,” I continued in a rush when he kept on staring at me like I was the only bottom at an orgy.
He tightened his grip on my waist. “We should,” he said in that rumbly voice I liked way too much.
“I’ll teach you one. I mean, obviously I’ll teach you one. It’s not like we need a dance instructor when I’m a dance instructor. Well, not an actual instructor. But I—”
He leaned close and brushed his lips over mine, effectively cutting off my rambling. His strong arms slid around my waist, pulling me against his firm body.
I melted against him and gave myself over to those deep, drugging kisses he was so damn good at.
I loved kissing Evan, but I couldn’t quite pinpoint why.
Kissing him was different than it had been with other partners.
Maybe it was because he seemed to enjoy it too?
Most of the people I’d kissed had been eager to move on to the next thing.
I liked the other parts of sex and foreplay as much as the next person, but I was a slut for deep kissing.
Evan gripped me tight and lifted me right off the ground.
I let out a little squeak of surprise, which he swallowed with another incredible kiss and walked me backward. He deposited me on the counter and cupped my cheek with one hand, and gripped my ass with the other.
Eagerly, I wrapped my legs around his waist, wanting as much contact as humanly possible.
Evan seemed to be of the same mind as his hands moved over my back and stomach, then he slipped them under the hem of my crop top to stroke my chest and upper back.
His hard cock pressed against mine. I rocked my hips, needing more, needing it all.
The shrill ring of Evan’s phone pierced the haze of my desire.
“That better not be Arnold,” I grumbled against his mouth as he froze. “I swear to Lucifer, I will answer that phone screaming like you’re taking me on a one-way trip to Poundtown if he cockblocks me right now.”
“You have my permission to do whatever you want if it’s him.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket and checked. “It’s Vlado.”
I let go of him and leaned back.
“Yes?” he answered, his expression and tone grim. His gaze focused on me, and something I couldn’t read flashed in his eyes. Anger? Frustration, maybe? “Understood.”
“What’s going on? Is everything okay?” I asked when he ended the call.
The change in him was so stark a shiver of fear that moved through me.
“It’s fine.” He pressed a soft kiss against my lips. “Nothing to worry about.”
“Are you sure?”
He nodded and stroked the backs of his fingers over my cheek.
“Can you tell Vlado his timing sucks?”
He smiled, but only halfway. “He knows.”
“He does?”
“Yup.”
“Eeek!” I nearly fell off the counter at Vlado’s voice. “DUDE!” I whirled toward the door, almost falling again.
Evan grabbed my waist and helped me slide off the counter.
Vlado grinned from where he was leaning against the doorway into the kitchen. “Sorry, Nicky. But this is important.”
I glanced between them.
Evan’s posture was stiff, and his resting bitch face was on in full force. Vlado looked relaxed, but the tightness around his eyes and the set of his shoulders gave away that he wasn’t.
“You’re sure you’re okay?” I asked Evan.
He nodded, his eyes a bit softer than they’d been a moment ago.
“Okay. Have a good night.”
He brushed another kiss against my lips. “Goodnight, Nicky.”
Cold washed over me as Evan stepped back and left the kitchen. Something was going on, but it wasn’t like they were going to tell me. I was just the stripper Evan had hired to trick his dad so he could get his inheritance.
Wrapping my arms around myself, I hurried out of the kitchen and toward the hallway that would hopefully lead me to my room.
Whatever. Evan didn’t owe me explanations or even his time. He was going to get sick of me if I didn’t stop being greedy and demanding too much.