Mandy's POV.
He looked even more handsome from up close, and I could feel my veins going haywire with adrenaline as he stood close to me.
“Come on Mandy. Just say something. Stop staring like you've just seen a ghost!” the words echoed in my head, placing more urgency on my lips.
My lips parted but nothing that sounded like words came out. He was so close, his scent was so good and I couldn't stop staring.
As if he knew the effect he had on me, he finally broke the silence between us.
“Hi,” he said, his deep voice sending literal shivers down my spine.
I heard him clearly despite the speakers bursting with music from either side of the room. Tasha seemed to be carried away with grinding on a stranger, she didn't even notice what was going on right now.
I'm sure if she did, she would have teased me to no end.
“Ha–hey,” I finally managed to say, curling my lips into an awkward smile.
“Are you good? You look like you're awestruck,” he pointed out, looking slightly concerned.
I quickly tried to feign a frown, crossing my arms, “is this what you do? Going around asking ladies if they're okay like you care?”
His lips curled into the faintest smile I'd ever seen, then he leaned closer, bringing his face close to mine and God help me, my heart was racing.
“Contrary to that thought, you're the first lady I've ever been bothered about,” he whispered in my ear, sending a tingling tremor under my skin.
This wasn't good. He shouldn't have that effect on me. I'd literally just met him.
Holding that thought, I stepped back with wide eyes, “well thanks for noticing. I'm good, so stay away from me.”
“What if I don't want to?” He fired back, his dark eyes staying fixed on my face.
My cheeks almost sizzled from the words but I did well to hide that, “Well I want you to.”
Instead of listening to me, he stepped back, stretching a hand towards me, “can I have a dance with you?”
My gaze alternated between his hand and his face, my breath seizing temporarily. My brain screamed no, but every part of my body screamed yes.
I knew what dancing at a club was like. It was never the safe kind of dance. It was tempting and everything a married woman shouldn't be doing, but somehow, I couldn't bring myself to listen to my brain.
“Make sure your hands don't move past my waist, okay? I don't like too much physical contact,” I said with a firm tone, and he nodded.
I placed my hand in his and the warmth from his palm quickly spread onto mine, making my insides squirm once more. My hands moved up to his shoulders while he slid his hands around my waist.
It first started as a normal dance routine, nothing too serious, with our eyes locked onto each other.
His dark eyes welled up with something I would classify as desire but it disappeared before I could even name it.
I didn't know if it was the way he looked at me or the way his hands rested on my waist, but my skin felt like it was burning with a desire I shouldn’t be feeling.
My breathing slowed as he flipped me over, his hands still resting on either side of my waist. His hands guided my waist in a circular motion, making my ass rub against his groin.
As we danced, I felt something thicken in between his legs. He started moving my waist side to side but somehow, my body wanted a different kind of contact.
I slowly started rubbing my ass against my groin, feeling his bulge in between my ass cheeks as I moved.
Just then, he flipped me over to face him.
“Careful princess, you're playing with fire,” he breathed, now placing his hands on the swell of my ass.
“Don't call me that. My name's Mandy,” I shot back with a tone that sounded too breathy to be considered serious.
“Even better,” he smirked, moving his hands lower.
My senses became more aware of his hands and the way they gently rubbed my ass. It felt hot, it felt tempting, it felt like something I shouldn't be permitting. But I still allowed it anyway.
We stared into each other's eyes, and this time, all I could see was pure hunger. He wanted me and God help me, I wanted him too.
I felt his length strain against his pants, right in front of my crotch and the thought of his thickness inside me made my core clench and unclench.
What the hell was I thinking?
Was this part of the supposed fun I wanted to have? Dancing this way with a stranger?
As these questions erupted in my mind, the urge to pull away from this stranger grew stronger. When I made an attempt, he pulled me back into him, slamming me against his thickness.
I gasped, gripping his arms instead of his shoulders, “where do you think you're going?”
“Away from you,” I replied, even though I made zero attempts to move away from him.
He tilted his head to the side, bringing his lips closer to my neck area and the next thing I felt was a warm touch on my neck. It wasn't with his lips though, it was with his tongue.
I shuddered from the touch, my body now racing with more heat. He swiped his tongue in irregular movements around there, the action sending sparks straight to my folds.
“Are you sure you want to be away from me?” He murmured, now peppering kisses from my neck to my jaw.
My hand clutched to his arms tighter as I tried to get a grip of my mind, “Yes. Stay away from me.”
I'd expected him to do the opposite—keep doing what he was doing until I finally admitted that I wanted this but he stepped back.
He fixed his hands in his pants, his expression void of any expression, “Nice dance. You really know how to make those hips sway.”
I blinked back, clasping my fingers together with no idea how to respond to that. He turned around, already making his way out of the crowd.
The thought of never seeing him again, and never exploring what we had just a few minutes ago nudged at my chest, pressuring me to stop him.
Without thinking, I took quick steps to reach him, grabbing his hand to stop him from walking.
He glanced over his shoulders, his features filled with surprise.
“What are you–”
I crashed my lips onto his before he could finish the words.