We were talking about dance lessons, but they were the last thing on my mind as I guided her through the steps.
It was an intimate venue, just big enough for a hundred at a time and dim enough to unfasten people’s inhibitions in the shadows. Amber lights glowed overhead, accentuating the curves of Sloane’s cheekbones and the shiver of her body as my hand drifted from her neck to the small of her back again.
She started off stiff, but she moved with natural precision, her body turning in sync and her feet following mine without missing a beat. However, the longer the music played, the more her movements flowed. Steel melted into silk, and the wariness in her eyes softened into something that sent a rush of heat through my veins.
Lessons were technical. Impersonal. This? This was as personal as it got.
“You said you don’t pass first base on the first date.” Her gaze flickered beneath the lights. “What about the second?”
Her question sent a shock through my system, the earlier heat igniting into an inferno that razed every other thought I had to ash.
There was only her, and this, and us.