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What's Left of Me

Page 3

There is a dull ache creeping in my side that I’m almost positive is from my horrible dance moves. Knowing I need to give my body a rest, I start to make my way toward the stairs when hands slide around my waist, pulling me back against a firm chest. Instantly, I freeze. Just when I’m about to turn around and tell off whoever has his hands on me, he starts to sway his hips, moving mine with his, making us move together as one. Jean comes into my view with the biggest smile in the world, so I know who ever has his hands on me must be good-looking or she’d come to my rescue. She gives me the approving thumbs up and turns back to the guy she is dancing with, no longer paying me any attention.

I figure one dance with “thumbs up man” will be okay, so I bring my hands up, wrap them around his neck and start to grind back against him. His hands grip my hips tighter, causing me to wince as he pulls me farther back into him where I can feel all of him. Every. Hard. Inch. I release my hands around his neck and swivel down along his rock hard body, raising my dress slightly as I do.

I don’t normally dance like this. Actually, I never dance like this. I give silent thanks for the liquid courage allowing me to have one of the best nights in months.

Bringing myself almost low enough to touch the ground, my dress rises an inch more, showing off the ass cheek I was trying not to flash this evening. I quickly make my way back up his body, which I’m sure did not look as seductive as I planned. When I’m finally back in a standing position, his strong hands tug my hips, turning me. My head spins faster than my body, so it takes a second to stop the room from moving around me. When a finger under my chin tilts my head up, I am gazing into a pair of clear, crystal-blue eyes.

Chapter Two

I open my mouth to speak, but he shakes his head twice and brings his hand up to softly touch the back of my neck, causing chills to run down my spine. I close my eyes, allowing myself to feel the music at the same time as his knee slides between my legs, lifting my dress ever so slightly. Moving his hand away from my neck, he takes one of my hands and wraps it around his neck while his other hand curls around my waist, pulling me snug to his body. When his hand releases mine, he swiftly moves it to wrap around my back. I bring my other arm up to meet his neck, just barely touching his hairline. Together we start moving with the music, grinding into one another. I work my hips in slow circles, matching his seductive pace and keeping my eyes locked on his.

I’ve heard that you can tell a lot about someone’s bedroom skills by the way they move on the dance floor. Let it be known that if this man moves in the bedroom the way he’s moving with me right here on the dance floor, I will be more than happy to allow him to show me those moves. Here or in the bedroom. And by the feel of a certain thing, I know he wouldn’t mind showing me those moves either.

We keep our eyes on one another as he gradually bends his knees, lowering us. My dress shifts higher, but I don’t care. His left hand moves from my hip and grabs my ass tightly, supporting me while guiding us down even further and then, little by little, back up again. His fingers graze the skin between my thigh and butt, making me quiver.

The alcohol has completely taken over my entire body making everything numb, including my teeth. The ache in my hip that was present earlier is no longer noticeable.

I move my right hand away from his neck to move some hair that is sticking to my forehead from the sweat of us dancing. Before I reach my face, he releases his hand on my backside to move my hair for me. He keeps his hand cupped to the side of my face making it rather difficult to look away from his eyes boring deep into my soul, and all I can think about is how badly I want him to kiss me right here, in front of everyone.

Wait. My soul? Kissing? I have officially reached my limit on the alcohol.

Shaking my head, I float back down to earth and push out of his grasp. A soft objection leaves his lips at the sudden release of our bodies. I need to get away before I start doing something that I shouldn’t. I turn away from him, but before I can walk away he’s reaching out and grabbing my elbow.

“Don’t go,” he says as he tries to pull me back against him.

He isn’t quick enough. I look at his hand on my elbow just as the other dancers begin to move closer, breaking us apart and filling the void that wasn’t there moments ago. His eyes beg me to stay. Turning, I quickly walk toward the steps, glancing at Jean. Nodding my head toward our table, I start my decent down the stairs. As if on cue, she follows quickly behind, leaving her dance partner alone. I have no idea where Shannon is, or if she’s even still up there dancing. There are too many bodies to look around, so I just head to our table knowing she’ll meet us there when she is done.

Staying there, dancing so closely with him, gave me a thrill I haven’t felt in a long time. I haven’t had the feeling of wanting to be close to anyone in four years. But tonight, with him, it felt right. I didn’t want to walk away, but staying wasn’t an option. It isn’t an option. Staying leads to trouble. And that man is trouble.

Reaching our table, I gulp down my glass of water, not bothering to sit, and wipe the water from my chin when it spills.

“Holy fucking shit, Dre! That was so fucking hot! He’s fucking hot! Get your cute little ass back up there, and get that fine piece of ass’s number. Better yet, take his ass home, or go home with him!”

My eyes follow her mouth as she speaks a mile a minute. I’m not even sure she has taken a breath yet. “How many times do you think you can say fuck or ass?”

“Fuck. Ass. Fuck. As—”

“Okay, okay. I get it. Calm down.” I laugh. “No one is exchanging phone numbers. No one is going home with anyone or taking anyone home.” I slur my words a little as I say them.

“Why not?”

“Why not? Jean, you know me better than that. I’m not some bar slut who goes home with random guys.”

“Random hot guys. And you think I’m a bar slut?”

“Sorry, random hot guys. And you already know how I feel about the barflies you hang around.”

Shannon grins as she makes her way toward us. “Oh. My. God. Did you see who I was dancing with? He was so dreamy.”

“You should have seen the hotness that was grinding all up on Aundrea. That man was seriously fucking hot!”

“He wasn’t that hot,” I state matter-of-factly.

Jean stares at me as if I’ve lost my mind. Maybe I have. “Not that hot?” she screeches.

Shannon stands there with a confused expression. “And I missed it? Well, damn!”

Jean continues speaking over Shannon, “I may be drunk, but we’re not so drunk that beer goggles have kicked in yet. Aundrea, if you don’t march back up there and get his number, I’m going to go get it for you. Better yet, if you don’t go home with him and get laid, I’m going to go over there and mount him myself. Maybe even right here!”

I roll my eyes at her last statement. “Slow down. No one is mounting anyone. Especially not here! There will be no fornicating for this girl tonight. Drunk or not.”

Shannon continues to look back and forth between us, shaking her head. “I can’t believe I missed this. I’m so pissed!”

“Aundrea, come on. When is the last time you had meaningless, hot, passionate, crazy, sweaty sex with someone? Oh, wait. What’s that?” she questions, raising her hand to her ear. “Right, never, and don’t you dare tell me Steven Jacobs because that was, like, I don’t know, forever ago. Plus, you kept complaining about how awful it was.”

It was awful. Like, really awful. I met Steven in a study group. It was during the only semester I ever took classes on campus. He kept asking me out, but I didn’t want to lead him on because I didn’t want anything more than friendship. That only lasted four months because I was stupid enough to sleep with him, if you can even call it that. Steven came before we even got started. The second he came in contact with me, he was a goner. I was stupid enough to try it again with him a few nights later. I told myself it was going to be meaningless sex, just something to take my mind off of all that was going on with me: my family, my life, everything. He made it five thrusts that time before coming. Needless to say, we avoided each other like the plague after that.

“Okay, fine. I haven’t had passionate, raw, sweaty, meaningful or meaningless sex, or whatever the hell you just said, but that just means I’m one less woman with an STD walking the streets.”

Jean points her finger at me, “First off, I don’t have any STDs. Second, what the hell is all this ‘letting loose, new beginnings’ shit you speak of? Seriously, I’m giving you what you asked for! Don’t think too hard, Aundrea. Thinking just gets in the way of living. Take it. Now is your chance.”

Jean mumbles something about needing the bathroom and turns around, heading that way without waiting for anyone to respond.

I finally sit down at the table. My mind has become too foggy with Jean’s words, the music, and the alcohol. Reaching for another glass of water on the table, I start to drink.

Thinking just gets in the way of living.

Her words replay in my head until they sink in. Damn it, why does she always throw this kind of words back at me? I do deserve to have some fun for once.

The waitress stops to collect our empties, and Shannon tells her we’ll take our tab, then excuses herself from the table. I’m not sure where she’s going until I watch her make her way over to the bar, and my jaw drops when I see her talking to Mr. Handsome. My Mr. Handsome!

Wait, when did he become my Mr. Handsome?

He’s sitting with his left side against the bar and a beer in his hand. There’s another guy sitting to his right, facing Shannon, who is standing between the two.

Mr. Handsome starts laughing at something she said.

My God, he is so beautiful.

Okay, I just called a man beautiful. Yep, I’m officially drunk.

Shannon says something else while placing her hand on his shoulder, causing both men to laugh again. Great, she’s flirting with them. She looks at Mr. Handsome one last time, saying something to him before smiling and turning down the hallway where the bathrooms are.

I shouldn’t be jealous. He’s not mine. But a part of me is jealous.

A little.

As if he knows I’m watching him, he turns his head and meets my eyes.

Those fucking blue eyes.

I swallow, watching him stare back at me. I can almost feel the heat coming from his gaze. I couldn’t look away right now even if I wanted to. We stare at each other for what feels like minutes, when Jean interrupts.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you two are totally eye fucking each other right now.”

Breaking my eyes from his, I pick up my purse and give a twenty and a ten to Jean. “I don’t know who paid for what, or how much I owe, but this should help cover the tab. The waitress is supposed to be bringing it. I’m going to the bathroom before we head out.”

“Okay. I’ll meet you right here with Shannon.”

Walking away from the table, I head toward the bathroom, which just happens to take me past Mr. Handsome himself.

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