“Wow, he can dance,” I observed.
I gasped when Wyatt’s hand on my waist slid up my side then up the underside of my arm to take my hand from his shoulder and link our fingers together. It was just like in Dirty Dancing, except I was facing him instead of away like in the movie. His grin grew a little bit wicked right before he used both of my hands to turn me. His front was now at my back with our arms crossed in front of us.
I felt his warm, hard body behind mine and I felt…way too much. Tingles covered every square inch of me. The air felt different against my skin; I was burning up.
His chin dipped low to rest on my shoulder. “Are you okay?” he whispered into my ear. His breath ruffled the hair against my neck, and I shivered.
“Yes,” I whispered. Then I nodded in case he didn’t hear me. I felt his stubbled jaw graze the side of my face and I began to experience heretofore unknown feelings. My perception of what was possible for my life shifted. My brain had disengaged, and I floated along on pure sensation.
We rocked side to side like that—closer than I’d ever been to anyone in my life. His chest rose and fell against my back as his arms tightened around me and he sighed against my hair. The last of my conscious thoughts dissolved and I succumbed to pure feeling. His body moving against mine became my world. His hands in mine kept me tethered, lest I float away on this cloud of sensation that was gradually becoming overwhelming.
I had never felt anything like this. I never even thought feelings like this were possible in real life. In romance novels, sure. But to feel such contentment laced with giddiness right now was something I had not expected. Before I could succumb to the spreading tingles and dwindling brain power and embarrass myself, he raised our arms up high and twirled me around and around underneath them. I giggled and squealed. Apparently, I was that girl—a squealy, laughing, girly girl. But maybe we were all that girl in the right circumstance.
He was right. I did not need to know how to slow dance when I was with him. We danced close; so close his knee was between my legs. I delighted at the feel of his soft, warm skin when he placed one of my hands on the back of his neck. He moved his free hand low on my waist, hooking his thumb in my belt loop to guide me in slow, small circles over our spot on the dance floor, then back and forth using his hands to push me out and pull me back into his body. He coaxed me where I needed to go. I felt weightless and graceful.
The whole bar and everyone in it disappeared until it was just us dancing together, bathed in the moonlight filtering in through the high windows, and the little lights—so much like stars—illuminating the dance floor with their tiny rays. As the song ended, he spun me out and then back up against his body to dip me low with his arm wrapped tight around my waist. He grinned down at me with those gorgeous lips and beautiful chocolate brown eyes and I—I would never forget this moment—not ever.