no doubt due to some antiquated cotillion class he had been forced to take, and that polish just enhanced his feral grace. Make no mistake, they were both predators. Beau was like a young wolf with a bit of the puppy, but no less dangerous because of his youth, while Jon was a panther, stalking the floor and me with a lithe grace.
Given the way women, and a few men were sidling up like bitches in heat, many held hopes that those dance skills were transferrable to arenas of the horizontal variety. This was the perfect storm for a Saturday night hook-up of the vanilla variety, which held no interest for me anymore. Frankly, as long as I had a ride home, I wouldn't blame either one of them if they succumbed to the aggressive come-ons. Disappointed, sure, but I was realistic. I had done a pretty aggressive job promoting the spinster-in-training image, so getting propositioned by Jon was pretty much out of the question. I had heard rumors about Jon’s tastes, but I wasn't sure the reward outweighed the risk. He was a hot topic of gossip year round. The adventure was gift enough. It was so exhilarating to abandon my default persona for a bit. What I decided to make of the opportunity was all up to me. Time to push some buttons. Fuck it. Go big or go home.
I sidled up to Jon, his heat drawing me in. My back was to him, and my hips swayed as the tempo slowed into the hypnotic beat of "#1 Crush." His strong arms wrapped around me, his hand splayed on my pelvis and his dick grinding into my ass. He wrapped my hair in his free hand and pulled me closer. His hot breath on my neck sent a buzz through me. My nipples were suddenly irritated to be trapped in a lace prison. He bit down on my earlobe hard, and my pussy clenched. God. Don't stop.
What was I getting myself into? Did it really matter? Surely, I can keep a scene under control.
JONATHAN
"The teasing stops now ," I growled as I soothed the sting my nip had undoubtedly caused. "Because the way you dance—it's luring men to their doom."
It was as if she were calling down the spirits or charming snakes with her sinuous hips and lissome gestures. The sharks were circling—it was time to stake my claim. I pulled her back against my dick and continued to grind. The way she relaxed into me, as if her whole body sighed, made me pull her tighter and grind harder. I sucked her neck making sure to leave a mark. She tastes like berries and custard. Let there be no doubt that I was accepting her subconscious submission and every responsibility that came with it. The sidelong glance she gave me wasn't saucy—it was full of promise and acquiescence. She looked at me—it was a question and a statement—before she reached out to Beau, wrapped her hand around his neck, and brought him in sync with our hypnotic rhythm. I was so obsessed with her that in that moment, I couldn't deny her anything. I felt as if I was trying to catch lightning with my bare hands, and I would do anything to achieve it.
As she pulled him in, she turned and kissed me tentatively, unsure that her plea would be heard. I devoured the kiss she offered, tasting the faint butterscotch of the bourbon she favored before I grabbed her lush, velvet lip with my teeth, tugging then soothing with the soft caress of the tip of my tongue. It emboldened her to return the favor, with a delicacy and sweetness that was strange to me after the parade of gold-diggers and wannabe porn stars I had passed the time with since Rachel. I met that delicacy with hunger and heat, burying my hand deeper into her soft nest of hair and pulling just hard enough to make her gasp into my devouring mouth.
She broke the kiss first, her glittering, dark eyes drinking me in, and touched her forehead to mine before turning to Beau. He tried to extricate himself from our bubble, demonstrating that he was far smarter than most people were giving him credit for, but Missy kissed him just as lustily, urging him to stay. He