Dance Of Desire (2 page)

"Don't get your hopes up, dear," Krystal piped in over the music and noise and between sips of her drink. She flipped a lengthy bit of auburn hair off her golden tan shoulder. "Like that all-male dorm next to mine. But I bet, at least half of the beautiful men in here love beautiful men, too."

They all giggled like crazed chicks. And many a man was watching and circling to approach them. While men were working up their nerve, Cassie’s group was complete and they officially began their evening, ordering drinks and food to share, sometimes dancing with an occasional guy and with one another, too. Girls could do that. It just made guys want them more.

“I’ve never been to a place like this. I love it! We have to come back. A lot. And often—
very
often,” Cassie declared as they came back to sit and have more drinks, becoming louder the more they drank.

Cassie bounced on her sofa seat. The entire place was furnished for high society yet professional and comfortable, too. The blaring sounds oozing from the speakers, the lighting, the courteous, smiling service—all of it seized something deep inside of Cassie.

Her old town had nothing like this—a town she’d never been out of for more than a few hours, where it only took twenty minutes to drive all the way through, anyway. If you drove very slowly.

It was mesmerizing in this city, and she could get easily drunk by the ecstacy of being care free for the first time in her life. She danced with her friends again. They were playing one of her all-time, sexy old favorites, The Eagles’
Those Shoes
. She was feeling it in her body and loving the sexy guitar and throbbing—

“Dance with me.”

The warm voice slithered through her and seemed to come out of nowhere, a total unexpected surprise.
How bossy.
And she should feel offended, she sort of thought. But his voice was more of a seductive purr than a command, spoken into the deepest and centermost of the swirl in Cassie’s ear.

Contrary to being offended, Cassie was instantly all a-tingle, even before she slowly turned to see him. “Damn.”

She’d been afraid he was going to be like one of those radio performers, a great voice with ogre face and body.

But no.

Not even close.

He was a gorgeous hunk. Fucking gorgeous. His skin was a delicious, edible shade of brown. His looks were somehow exotic, tropical, and fascinatingly
other
. His eyes were so remarkable that she wanted to fall into them.

He led her away from her friends, through the crowd that parted for them. He led her across the dance floor, stealing her away from her present dance partner, Anne, who was left standing there with her mouth open.

A tall person bumped into them as they walked past. The person was androgynous, someone beautiful but clearly gave off the feeling of being male. He bumped shoulders with her gorgeous hunk in that challenging way males do as they passed each other. They exchanged a pointed look before they passed.

Cassie forgot it immediately as her gorgeous hunk returned his attention to her. She liked the way he looked, square-cut jaw but not too square, with sad, smoldering eyes and a well-muscled build. Everything about him whispered hot… hard… soul-stirring sex to Cassie.

She’d never had hot, hard, soul-stirring sex, just regular vanilla sex with past boyfriends too few in between. But if he liked…

“What’s your name?” she asked Mr. Gorgeous Hunk as they started to sway.

He laughed a bit as he moved around her, as if checking her out at every angle. She so wanted to squeal in delight, but that wouldn’t be sexy or cool.

“Not yet. I’ll tell you later,” he finally answered.

Damn, he moved well like—really well. He was so mesmerizing that others stood, lurking about to watch him twirl her, move her, hold her against himself. He watched her and she liked him watching her. She’d giggled and squirmed a little at first, every time he brought her close to his body.

He’d pull a little half smile at her reaction. So sexy.

“You have to get used to me holding you, Beautiful. I like the way you move, the way you feel against me.”

“Y-You do?” she stammered.
Uncool, Cassie.
“All these dancers, you can do better than me.”

His reaction was a quick, deep frown. “No, I can’t. You’re right I shouldn’t be with you. You’re far above me, Beautiful. But I can’t resist you.”

What the flying fuck. Could he really be that into me? Probably a very effective line… very effective.
She mentally tried to back pedal her emotions away from him. It wasn’t working.

The man passed his hand over empty air at the edge of the bar and materialized a drink.

Wow! What a great trick! How’d he do that? He’s like a magician.
Cassie clapped at his magic. He took a sip then handed it to her. She gulped it down thirstily, and she wanted to get back to dancing with him, fast.

She made a face. “Odd. Tastes sweet and something… funny.” She actually belched! Not a demure little burp but a full-on belch. Cassie was horrified! But he didn’t seem to notice or care.

“A special recipe from my exotic homeland—Cleveland, Ohio,” he said with mock importance.

That made her laugh out loud. Okay, she was officially drunk. But she sobered when he stared at her with a look of awe, so full of yearning. “You’re so beautiful. You shine with light. Go away with me?”

His request was so abrupt and seemingly real that part of her screamed,
Yeah!
Another part, the part that was still her mother’s child, said,
Whoa, girl!
Speechless, Cassie involuntarily shook her pretty head. Okay, she wasn’t feeling so much the sophisticated city girl just now. She felt confused ad immature.

He laughed sexily before shrugging with a shyness that seemed in direct contrast to his self-assured look. He whirled her out to dance again. She was a bit dizzy. No, she felt more like she was a top spinning and enjoying the spin as she clung to his hard arms.

“Man, you smell fantastic,” she blurted.

“What?”

She shook her head, thinking it was embarrassing to repeat her impulsive comment. He did though. He smelled like no man she’d ever smelled before, like exotic spices and intoxicants. Like wrapped in sweet things, coconut and flavored with sexy, irresistible MALE scent. She was done giggling like a schoolgirl since they were now rubbing against each other with serious intent, hard enough to generate flames that could set the club and the world afire.

She didn’t know where she got that thought. Hot. Fire. Both of them were inflamed…

She didn’t know where her friends were. She wasn’t even thinking of them. Cassie wanted this nameless man inside her.

She felt
him
, felt his lengthening cock against her. She closed her eyes. It felt like he was already inside her, plumbing her deepest secrets. Flames, yeah. Pure, blue fire. It was already there, licking around inside her, making her moisten in welcome. Heat curled inside her, like fingers beckoning from his sex to hers, making her ache for him as she felt the manly part of him grow harder, wanting her.

Cassie’s answer came as she rubbed herself against his hardness, which was something she’d never done in public or in private before, and she didn’t even notice. She burned for him. She felt bright and radiant as the sun for him, even if she was also feeling very wild and wanton. Like an animal in heat.

Gazing into his face, she didn’t find any expression that said he’d expected this kind of behavior from her. Or that he was disgusted by it.

His expression said he was surprised that she was so pleased to be with him and so open to showing him her pleasure.

Cassie was completely lost in her erotic shamelessness, breathing deeply—panting really—like she was ready for penetration.

“Beautiful, you’re ready.”

For what?
The thought chugged slowly through her hormone-flooded mind.

He seized her tightly to him, making her open her eyes, half-lidded like a sleepwalker. She was burning up, his body hot and hard against hers, her crotch wet and humid and hungry, as she clawed at his muscular back to hold him closer to her. She felt his hand kneading her ass cheek while she rubbed her aching body against his, and in her head…

The world shifted. A hazy distortion.

A bird flew past her view! It was close enough to make her flinch.

A dove. A white dove.
What the hell…?

“Did you see that? A dove! In here.”

Annoyance flitted across his expression and he glanced across the floor, but she didn’t see who he saw. The annoyance left his face before he looked at her again. “No, Beautiful. I only see you. I only want you. Say ‘yes’ to me. Now.”

Cassie was panting hard and was horny as hell but...“Really? No white dove? You didn’t see that? Wow, man. You’re really getting to me. I’m so… overheated.” She wiggled against him, but stopped. It felt too damn good. “I-I need to sit down.”

She pushed away from his hot, firm grasp. And it was hard, like he was a huge magnet and she a tiny iron shaving trying to peel away from him. Even his fingertips felt to her like they didn’t want her to go.

His expression was one that simply seemed to state that he couldn’t believe she could leave him.

BUT CASSIE WAS ABLE to stumble away from him and through the thick crowd back to her girlfriends. She was subjected to a lot of teasing from her drunken friends, especially from Anne and Lauren.

“Ah, our sex kitten has returned from the arms of that glorious, godly Dionysus. Or is he more of a down and dirty sex fiend? We need details, Cassie!” Lauren crowed. “Lots and lots of details. What’s he taste like? Have you slipped him the tongue? Does he love it three-way? How fucking huge is his fucking tool?”

And Lauren made a “this big” fishing reference the full length of her reach, from left to right. And they all laughed at her crudeness.

Krystal rolled her eyes, a bit pink in the face with embarrassment and too many fruity drinks laced with rum. Then she giggled hysterically a long while before quieting and sitting overly straight and dignified, as if she weren’t at all sloshed.

“Ha-ha, girlfriends,” Cassie retorted. Then, she welcomed further teasing with her own drunken announcement. “There’s only one way I’m ending tonight. With
that
man.”

She gazed with longing at her masculine dance partner who was waiting for her. He was
really
waiting for her where she’s left him. The odd thing was… it seemed like he was surrounded by a force field as he stood isolated by himself. Others reached out to him, but his eyes—those eyes—were only for her.

I must be really drunk,
she thought in exuberant intoxication, closing one eye then the other, to just look at him and that field.
He can’t really be naked there, having more than two hands and… two cocks?

She giggled at herself and her hallucinations. But as he came to her, to claim her, she stared at his crotch. It moved like there was a thick, long cock growing down
both
his left thigh
and
his right.

Someone laughed and bumped into her, and all of Cassie’s friends and her entire new world became a noisy, slurring blur….

CASSIE SLID SLOWLY back into consciousness late the following morning, curled up in a fiercely tight ball, like a frightened hedgehog protecting itself from a slobbering and laughing wild jackal.

“What...?”
Who’s laughing?

Only part of her brain functioned. It was Sunday. She no longer did church on a weekly basis and there was no need to hurry or agonize about classes. She cracked a red, achy eye open at the clock. But it wasn’t there. Or, more specifically, she was not laid on the bed properly. She tilted her head.

“Oh. Eleven.” In the morning. The sunshine bleeding around her window curtains told her.

Hung over, flaming thirsty and hungry, too, she uncurled and felt fuzzy, like she’d forgotten something. Normal sensations had yet to return to her limbs, her body in general, and her head.

“Oww.” Her insides hurt. Down there, as her grandma would’ve said. Didn’t she just have her period a little while ago? She couldn’t remember just yet.

Cassie lurched fully upright with a groan and sat on the edge of the bed, feet on the floor, before creaking to a bent stance, like a super-elderly old woman, to stumble her way to the bathroom.

“Fucking hell…!”

She abruptly realized the state she was in.

She wasn't wearing her blouse from last night. One of the solid straps of her bra was ripped completely loose. The bra itself was pulled down exposing her breasts. Her skirt was made of sturdy twill. It was slightly torn in the middle but still on, folded or yanked up—
Why would I think ‘yanked up’?
—and caught high inside the waistband.

She looked around frantically. Her panties were nowhere to be found! The waistband was on the floor and completely destroyed, like someone had ripped them open and torn them from the delicate missing fabric. The apartment air conditioner was on, breezing through her soft and trimmed pubic hair.

She was sore as hell almost
everywhere
. Even the lips of her vulva hurt. And they were slick, wet. Her thighs, too—slick with wetness and were sore.