The Secret 00.5 The Prelude of Ella and Micha Read Online Free PDF

how we both dance when we’re drunk. Granted, Ella gets a little skittish five minutes into the music, as if she suddenly remembers something that leaves her wanting to be untouched. But if we make it through those five minutes …
    It’s going to be the best fucking five minutes of my life.
    “You sure you want to do this?” She spins around as we reach the center of the madness. There’s hardly any room, yet she somehow manages to spread her arms out and shimmy her hips, raising her arms above her head and giving me a full eyeful of her flat, smooth stomach.
    Mother fucking hell.
    I bite down on my lip to keep from moaning. If the night keeps going in the same direction, I’m not going to be able to keep my hands off her; otherwise, I’m going to explode.
    Oblivious to the fact that her best friend is getting a hard on over her, Ella continues, “You know how intense I can get when I dance. I might embarrass Mr. Smooth.” By her amused grin, I can tell she thinks she’s teasing me. What she’s really doing is adding fuel to the fire. She’s totally fucking turning me on more than I ever have been before.
    “Mr. Smooth?” I cock a brow at her. “Really?”
    She shrugs as her hands fall to her sides. “Hey, you’re the one who is always hitting on someone. I’m just giving you a fitting name.”
    I span my hands out to the side and glance around the crowd. “Do you see me hitting on anyone right now?”
    The statement acutely puzzles her. “Now that you mention it, no.” She leans in, squinting at my expression. “Are you sick or something?”
    I roll my eyes. “I’m not as big of a manwhore as everyone thinks.” When her brows elevate with insinuation, I shake my head and aim a finger at her. “You know what? This is for teasing me about my sluttiness.” Before she can respond, I grab her hips and twirl her around so her back is to me. Then I quickly move up and align my body with hers. Moving to the rhythm of the throbbing music, I grind against her, knowing this can go either of two ways: she’s going to think it’s all for fun and move with me, or she’s going to freak out and run.
    She’s tense as a board as the song ends and switches to “Ordinary World” by Red. Then, suddenly, Ella’s dancing. Ella and I are dancing. I’m not even sure where the hell the burst of confidence materializes from, but she’s now swaying and grinding and rocking to the slow beat of the song. And I’m instantly lost in her movements.
    I’m so fucking lost.
    Flirting has always come naturally to me, but I feel like a real amateur at the moment. I try to get a grip over myself, but as I start rubbing against her, I’m hyperaware of every breath, every graze of her ass, brush of her back, feel of her hands as they rise up and loop around the back of my neck. Our bodies align perfectly—too perfectly. They should always be together like this.
    I’m struggling to control myself and not reach around to slide my hand across her breasts, because I’m dying to touch her like that. Then her head falls to the side, giving me a straight view to her heaving chest, and my hands start to wander, take on a mind of their own, gliding around to the front of her and splaying across her stomach. My fingers play with the hem of her shirt, debating, before I summon up enough courage to slip them underneath the fabric.
    God, her skin is so fucking smooth.
    Her muscles tighten, and we both freeze.
    She blinks up at me in confusion.
    I stare down at her, my pulse pounding with desire, confusion, lust, heat, want, love, lust, love.
    Then she starts to lean up.
    Fuck, maybe she wants to kiss me.
    I start to lean down.
    Our lips inch closer.
    We’re about to kiss. Maybe my fear over my feelings was inaccurate. Perhaps I jumped to assumptions. Maybe she can handle my declaration of wanting more. Perhaps she does feel the same way about me as I do about her.
    But just when a sliver of space is left between our lips, Ella’s eyes