NO, DON'T STOP!
My insides screamed it, but all I could feel was the rhythm of the beat, the heat of his hands on me, and his lips brushing my neck.
"Dancing is… intimacy. It connects the soul," I whispered.
I felt him ease back slightly, though his hands remained firm on my waist.
I couldn't see his face, but I felt the way my words struck him — like they hit a nerve.
"Where did you learn how to dance?" he asked, turning me gently to face him.
"When I was little. I danced in school… I even had a dance partner."
"A boy?" he asked, frowning slightly.
Before I could answer, he spun me again — pressing my back harder to his chest. I gasped, breath hitching at the closeness.
"Anthony — he was just a boy! We were children."
"I want to be your only partner," he murmured against my ear, his voice so soft, so close, that butterflies took flight in my stomach.
His hand touched my neck, but I felt it trembling.
"And I want to be the only one holding you like this," he murmured.
