5. Emily
5
EMILY
The second we exit the club, I pull in a huge breath of refreshing air. The sea breeze that circulates along the coast is rejuvenating. There’s a line of people snaking by the front door of the club. I marvel at it, thinking again that we were lucky we got inside at all.
Konstantin is someone important, that’s for sure.
A part of me really wants to know more about him. It’s a stupid thing to want. Because odds are good that once I leave, I’ll never see this guy again.
“Down here,” he says, stepping carefully over the cobblestones of a sharply curving street only wide enough for a moped. The walk is short, and I hear music long before I see the small bar. The front of it is covered in greenery. Potted plants hang from twisting ropes or grow from clay basins. Konstantin enters first, waiting for me just inside the doorway. I don’t see a sign with a name anywhere.
I gasp in delight when I enter. A live band is performing on a low stage. Five men play various instruments. I recognize three kinds of guitars and some bongos, but the metal canister that’s being rubbed up and down with a stick is new to me. The tables have been pushed to the edges of the room, allowing the main floor to be used as a dance area.
They’re all paired up in couples. Whether man or woman, everyone is shaking their hips sensually. It’s hypnotic, and I can’t stop staring.
Konstantin doesn’t waste time. He leads me through the bar, which smells like saffron and white wine, until we’re smack-dab in the center of the floor.
“What is all this?” I ask.
“Bachata.”
“It looks like salsa to me.”
Konstantin laughs in the base of his throat. “It’s similar, but there are a few differences.”
“Like what?”
“Well, salsa is lighthearted. Energetic.” He offers his hand. “Flirty, even.”
I stare at his fingers and fight the urge to bite my lip. It’s no longer about Nadia’s rules. I sure as hell want to be here with him.
“And bachata?” I ask as I tangle my hand in his.
“Slower.” His other hand rests against the small of my back. “More intimate.” A small tug and I find myself pressed close to him. The smell of soap and aftershave—light enough to tease and tantalizing enough to draw me in further—tickles my nose. “And far more sensual.”
“Is that right?” I breathe, fighting the pounding in my heart.
“Let me show you, Kitty Cat.” His hand squeezes mine, and my body warms all through my center.
I could really use a cold drink right now.
“I don’t know the steps.”
“Just let me take control and you’ll be fine.”
He faces me, and I see my own flushed reflection in his ice-blue eyes. It’s the first time I’ve noticed how much taller he is than me. I knew he was bigger—most people are—but this closeness emphasizes how his chin is half a foot over my head. His back is broad enough that someone standing behind him wouldn’t be able to see me. “You sure you want to do this in the middle of the room? There’s lots of space on the sidelines,” I say.
“People can see us better like this.”
“You mean they’ll see you get embarrassed by me a lot easier.”
He dips his head, and for a single dizzying moment, I imagine him pressing his full lips against mine. But instead, he chuckles as he whispers—breath hot and sultry against my ear, “Nothing you do can embarrass me, Kitty Cat.”
My heart wriggles up my throat. Oh yeah. I’m in trouble.
Konstantin squeezes my fingers, his shoe sliding back an inch. “Just follow. I’ll lead.”
“I’ll do my best,” I whisper.
He moves his arms in gentle swerves, his knees bending, hips rocking. It’s like he’s the living embodiment of the sea that surrounds us. The entire time he dances, his eyes don’t leave mine. I’m less graceful; I have to constantly glance at his feet just to keep up.
We pace in a small square to the beat of the music. Konstantin goes further than that, tapping his feet between the beats.
He doesn’t just break the rules, he bends them to his will.
I laugh. “How are you so good at this?”
His eyes flash, as do his teeth in his wide smirk. Pressing closer to me, he tugs my arms, causing our bodies to touch. I gasp, partly from shock, and partly from something else stirring inside of me.
“A man needs to be nimble on his feet,” he replies. “It’s rude to step on someone’s toes.”
“What about women? Do I get a pass?”
“For tonight? Yes.” He grinds his hips forward, and my inner heat simmers as my hips move to match his movement. His hand on my back tugs me just a little bit closer. And for a moment, I dare to pretend that it’s just the two of us here.
“Music, movement, the pull of the rhythm, and how they shape the flow of our bodies …” he says as our hips sway as one. “These are the differences between simply living and being alive.”
My hands loosen in his for a moment. Konstantin notices and holds on tighter. He swings me around, erasing the tiny grim voice that was ready to whisper in my ear. His insistence that I keep up with his quick movements is helping me focus on this— on the moment.
He can’t be doing it on purpose, but it works just the same.
The band hasn’t taken a break for the entire two hours, and neither have we. My feet are throbbing; there’s sweat up and down my back. The thin material of my dress sticks to my skin and leaves nothing to the imagination.
But somehow, with Konstantin, I don’t want him to imagine.
I want him to see.
The only time we slow down is when a giggling waitress with thick red hair holds out a tray toward us. On it are several tiny glasses of clear liquid.
“Limoncello,” Konstantin says, grabbing one. “Try it.”
“I’ve had limoncello before.”
“But not this limoncello. It’s made from Sfusato Amalfitano lemons. They’re only grown here.”
I’ve been smelling lemons since I arrived. Curious, I take a glass, sniffing it. The citrus makes my nose burn. When he takes a sip from his, I chug mine down. The tingles ripple through my throat.
“Holy shit! That is strong!”
Konstantin takes my empty glass with a smile while he downs his. “That’s why you’re supposed to sip. But no matter, come.”
He takes me by my waist, fingers working into my lower back just above my butt. His touch demands my attention and I obey without question. We’re pulled back to the dance floor by the music, fueled now by the tart buzz of limoncello. It feels amazing to dance like this, to pant from exertion, and trust him as he guides me through the motions until my muscles turn deliciously sore against him.
His thigh wedges between my legs, and I bite my lip as I ride the hard bands of muscle through the thin fabric of his pants. Pressure grinds along my skin and rushes up beneath my dress. A slow dampness fills the space between us, and a new breed of sore wakes up inside of me.
In a great swing of his arm, he yanks me in a circle until my stomach lines up with his. My hands bury themselves in the front of his shirt, clinging to the immaculate fabric as I drive my hips into his thigh, feeling my heart pounding between us. His breathing is heavy, matching the sounds I’m making too.
The yellow glow of the lanterns dangling from the ceiling dazzles his smooth skin and his half-parted lips.
My eyes lock with his, and I want him to do more than see.
I want him to lay me down, peel the sweaty dress off, and trace the outline of my body with his kisses. I want him to push my legs apart and whisper all sorts of dirty things in my ear while his powerful fingers explore me.
I want to feel the weight of his muscled body against mine, to lose control as he fills me up until I can’t take anymore.
I want him to fuck me until I forget everything—from my name to my worries to the awful reality waiting for me when I leave Italy.
I can’t catch my breath, and it’s not from the dancing.
Konstantin dips his head toward me. My heart races as the scent of soap and aftershave—so light that I could convince myself that I’m imagining it—invades my nostrils
I don’t have to move to meet him as he closes the distance like an avalanche. The pressure and warmth between us rise, inevitable as the tide. Our mouths crush around each other and I lose myself in the kiss.
His lips are soft ... just like I thought they’d be.
Trembling from the rush of heat that takes over my body, I open my mouth further, and feel his tongue sweep in. My heart flutters and my knees go weak. His hand rises to cup my face and take hold of my chin as his tongue explores each corner of my mouth.
His other hand on my back pulls me closer to him. My heart thunders at my throat, and a soft moan escapes from my throat for him to swallow.
I close my eyes, imprinting the kiss in my memory forever as the music swells to one final crescendo before it suddenly comes to a stop all around us.
We break apart just in time as the other dancers let out a loud collective groan of disappointment. They start gathering their things, and head for the exit, arm in arm.
“Looks like our time here is up, Kitty Cat.” he says.
“Oh.” Disappointment overwhelm every one of my senses. My hands are still clinging to him, my leg is still hooked around his thigh, and my eyes are still searching his for confirmation that maybe this isn’t over.
Slowly, we untangle ourselves from each other. No, don’t go! But just like at the hotel, the words never take shape in my throat.
As his warmth drifts further away, I’m desperately searching my mind for something to say.
Something to tell him—and me—that this can’t be how it all ends.
I stare at him, chewing my lower lip as I contemplate what I can say.
Running a hand through his thick hair, he nods toward the door. “But that doesn't mean the night has to be over. Not yet.”
My heart skips.
The last thing I want as your bestest best friend is for you to duck out on fate … or to miss out on good dick. I can hear Nadia’s voice . I’m not asking you to find the love of your life here.
“You’re serious.”
“Always.” He smiles like it’s a joke, but I have a feeling it isn’t. Konstantin has a gravity to everything he does. He’s charming … arrogant … And all of it is wrapped in just the right amount of danger.
I know he’s a man who’s used to getting his way.
Just parachute into a bed with a hot stranger, have some fun, and break a few hearts of your own.
Konstantin extends his hand toward me, and I know that if I take it, there’s only one way this will end between us.
Forget the past.
I put my hand in his, feeling the surge of heat and electricity shooting through every fiber of my being.
And for the second time tonight, I tell him …
“Lead the way.”