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“Then let’s go somewhere else,” I say.
“I can’t dance with you,” Diego says.
“Why not?”
“Because—” He stops himself, biting down on hiswords, then continues in a voice so quiet and low it’s almost a growl. “Because of what happened last time.”
So hehasbeen thinking about what happened at the drag show. I knew it. There was no other explanation for how weird he acted afterward.
“All the more reason to dance with me,” I say, stepping minutely closer.
Diego has to look down at me from this distance, and I don’t hate that. I don’t hate it at all.
“If we waited a semester, or a year…” Diego says.
I sense his defenses crumbling and trail a finger up his shirt from ribs to chest. He shivers from that single finger gliding up his body.
“I can’t wait until the end of the semester,” I say, “and I don’t think you can either.”
“Avery…”
I trail that finger across his chest and down one arm. Where the shirt ends, I meet the skin of his bicep, more toned than I might have expected. I make my way down his forearm, then take his hand in mine. Diego grips my hand in return after a beat, and I know I have him.
I start to make for the dance floor, but Diego tugs on my hand.
“Downstairs. The more private rooms,” he says.
That sends a thrill and a burst of heat through me. Private rooms? I’ve heard about this place, but this is my first time here, so I have no idea where we’re going whenDiego leads the way down a hall beside the bar. We head down a set of stairs and find another hallway. Diego tugs me into the first room along the hall, a far smaller space than anything upstairs. Trippy lights whirl around the room, making the entire space feel like the inside of a kaleidoscope. The music here is slow and sexy and deep, some pulsing psychedelic beat. There are only a handful of people in here. Three sit on the floor in a corner, talking with their heads close together. One woman stands in the middle of the room swaying and lifting her arms, eyes closed and head tilted back. The final occupants are a couple dancing close together. The dark and the lights almost make them look like a single being.
It’s the perfect place to go unnoticed.
No one looks up when we enter. I sense Diego relaxing a little as we find a bit of space for ourselves. He turns toward me, still holding my hand, and some of the fear is gone, replaced with a simmering heat I know all too well.
I don’t waste any time. After waiting so long to touch him again, my body is burning. Getting any kind of permission to be close to him sends me rushing toward him. I throw my arms around his neck and let my body fall against his. Diego catches me, hands going to my hips, and I’m so glad I chose a cute skirt and leggings for this. It feels incredible having Diego feel along the waistband of that skirt, hands threatening to roam lower. I can tell without another word passing between us that he’s into the look,and that only swells my confidence when I pull him down to me.
He doesn’t resist the kiss. Once again, as soon as I’ve managed to drag him away from the threat of the university, he opens himself to me. His mouth is hot and greedy against mine, proclaiming loudly that he’s been waiting and hoping for this just as desperately as I have. I bite at his bottom lip and pull, so insatiable I can’t contain it in mild mannered kissing any longer, and Diego makes a low, rumbling sound that vibrates through me.
Our attempt at “dancing” truly didn’t last long. We’re barely moving as we stand in the strange little room and make out under the whirling lights. When we separate for breath, our foreheads end up together, and Diego’s hands turn brave. They slide around my hips, but I can feel the hesitation and stand up on my tip toes to force his touch lower.
I slam my mouth into his in time to catch a gasp. As I delve into his mouth, his hands grasp me more firmly, feeling for my ass through the skirt. Being on my tip toes has forced me to rely on him for balance, not that I mind. I’m all but falling against him, my tongue in his mouth, his hands on my ass.
How can he deny this? The second we were alone we started grabbing for each other ravenously. I’m panting into his mouth, breathless no matter how many times I interrupt the kissing to gasp in air, and my cock feels likeit’s making a tent of my poor skirt. He must be able to feel it with our bodies like this, and he’s not exactly reeling away in horror.
I fall back to flat feet, and Diego’s hands ride up, taking some of my skirt with them. I curl a hand in his hair, clinging to him as white hot desire burns through me.
“Please get out of here with me,” I say, nearly begging. I have no shame about it. I need to have this man tonight.
A flinch flickers over Diego’s face.
“I might lose my mind if you say no,” I say. “I know you want me. I can feel it. Literally. And you can feel me. Please, Diego. Please say yes.”
Diego draws a shaky breath. He slides his hand from my waist to my neck, cupping my face to draw me into a long, slow, deep kiss. It’s unlike all the kisses that have come before it. It still has that heat, that overflowing passion, but there’s something more thoughtful behind this kiss, like Diego is kissing me in search of an answer he can’t put in words.
I don’t know what he finds, if he finds anything at all, but eventually he eases away, still cupping my face. His eyes bore into mine, then he nods, very slowly, almost tentatively.
“Okay,” he says.
My heart leaps like it’s making a bid for freedom. I can’t quite believe I heard that right, but Diego lets go of me to take my hand and lead me out of the club. I have barelyenough wherewithal to reach for my phone, tucked into the small bag slug across my chest, and type out a fumbling message to Mia letting her know I’m leaving.
