"I just thought you were more of a scotch and poker kind of guy."
"Can't I be both?"
I shook my head slowly in disbelief. "Just when I think I'm starting to get you pegged down just a little..."
He laughed. "There's a lot about me you don't know, Sophia."
"Does all of it have the capacity to embarrass me as much as this?"
"Oh come on, don't tell me you've never gone out dancing with your friends after a few too many."
"Of course I have," I replied, "but replace 'a few' with 'a lot'. I'm certainly not that drunk yet. Besides, that was always at a club. If you can stumble in a circle with your arms over your head, you fit right in in those places. This is different. This looks like an audition for So You Think You Can Dance."
I wasn't exaggerating. I didn't have the knowledge or vocabulary to describe everything that was going on in front of me, but it felt like everyone in the room had at least some kind of dance training. Couples writhed together in perfect unison, their movements wild, yet graceful and assured. No two routines were quite the same. Some pairs clung to one another like lovers on a bed, swaying and rocking in a permanent embrace. Others moved with more swagger, an ever shifting whirlwind of bare legs and muscular arms. There was something incredibly sensual about it all. I felt almost voyeuristic just sitting on the sidelines watching.
"You're overthinking it Sophia. Remember what you said to me the other night? 'If you have to think then this whole thing is a lost cause.'" He pulled me to my feet. "You probably don't pay attention to the way you move, but I certainly do, and that body is made to dance."
I looked on helplessly as waiters swept in to clear our table away too. "I thought dancers were meant to be tall and thin."
He smiled a wicked smile and ran a hand gently down my hip. "Ballet dancers perhaps, but that's not really what I have in mind." He nodded once more towards the throng. "Come on, all you have to do is follow my lead."
Maybe it was the pull of the music, or the seductive energy of the dancers, I'm not sure, but I found myself nodding. He led me into the fray.
Instantly, I felt the adrenaline of the crowd wash over me. It was a tangible thing that filled the air, seeping through my skin and setting my body thrumming. The speakers were blasting out a driving rhythm, something modern, but with a distinctly Latin bent, and Sebastian was quick to find his stride. I don't know how I'd ever thought he'd look awkward. One glance at that lithe body and anyone could see how at home he was on the dance floor. His innate sexuality translated savagely well to such expression. Every gesture, every subtle shift of his hips, made him look even more alluring.
Pressing one hand to the small of my back and seizing my fingers with the other, he began to lead me across the room, his feet a rhythmic blur, his body undulating like a flag in the breeze. I didn't want to make him look like a fool, so I tried my best to match him, but my muscles felt stiff in his hands. The show going on around us was elaborate, chaotic, beautiful, and I had no idea how I could possibly match it. I felt impossibly out of my depth.
"You're still thinking," said Sebastian, sensing my discomfort. "Stop focusing so hard. This is meant to be fun, not a competition. The room doesn't exist. They don't exist. It's just you, me, and the music."
I liked that idea. Closing my eyes, I leaned in against him and tried to relax. It was easier with everything out of sight. All I had to go by was the churning beat of the speakers and the touch of Sebastian's hands. Gradually, I let my muscles go soft, trusting that he would guide me. The throbbing bass was like a beacon, and I let my body follow as it desired.
"Much better," Sebastian said.
I had no name for what we were doing. Maybe I still looked stupid, I didn't know, but I no longer cared either way. It just felt right. I loved the sensation of being pressed up against him, letting him steer my limbs as though they were an extension of his own. In that moment, we were one entity moving in perfect harmony. It felt more than a little like when we made love — his hands manipulating me as my body bent to his, yielding to his control — and it was no less exciting for us being fully clothed.
But beyond the physical element, there was something deeper. I knew it was a side of him that he rarely shared, which made it all the more special that he was doing so with me. One by one, his walls were tumbling down.
As the first song ended, the music changed. The new tune was slower, more sultry, and Sebastian was quick to adapt. A delicate twist of his wrist and I was spinning away, then suddenly snapping backwards to rest against him once more, this time with my back against his chest. With torturous softness, his hands began to trace their way across my sides and down my thighs, flirting with the hem of my dress. Such intimacy in a public place should have made me balk, but the sensuality in the air was infectious. I was utterly lost in the moment. I could feel his breath hot on my skin as his lips teased the air just above my neck, tantalising but never touching. With every vacillation of our hips my ass grazed against his pants, letting me know that I wasn't the only one finding this to be a powerfully erotic experience.
Other couples were throwing propriety to the wind too. Several men swept passed us with open shirts, their chests glistening with sweat, their partners slicing the air with their skirts like fans. One woman had shed her top all together and was twisting from side to side in just her bra like a belly dancer. All around the room, people were laughing and clapping and cheering in time with the beat. I'd never been part of such an unrestrained expression of joy before.
"You look stunning," Sebastian breathed into my ear.
"Do I now?" I replied.
"You do. Although it might have something to do with the fact that everything you're doing right now, I'm imaging you doing it naked."
I laughed. "Is that so? Well then, I probably shouldn't do this." Slipping free of his grip, I turned once more and began to glide around him in a slow circle, swaying my hips provocatively and dragging my hands slowly up and down my body.
A low, masculine sound escaped his throat. "God, I can only restrain myself so much, Sophia."
I grinned, but didn't stop. It was thrilling putting on that kind of show for him in the middle of a crowded room. I could see the outline of his excitement pressing urgently against his pants. The truth was, with all the electricity that was coursing through my veins, I wasn't sure I wanted him to restrain himself. I'd had the elaborate foreplay, now I wanted what that promised.