As Asher and I danced on the floor of the nightclub, my whole nervous system ignited with wanton desire. His body was hard and healthy and against me.
And the way he moved his hips, molten and promising, a whisper of what it would be like to have him bed.
His hands were everywhere. His eyes watched me all the while, hooded.
I wanted him so badly, I struggled to breathe.
He had to want me too, didn’t he? For him to hold me like this? To slot his thigh between mine and urge me to grind on him?
Yet too soon, the music shifted to a new song with a different beat, and Asher stilled. Too quickly, he retracted his hands.
“Sorry,” he said. His eyes peered through me, unfocused.
“Don’t --”
“I need a minute. I’ll be right back.”
Then he disappeared, leaving me alone among the swaying, s
