No one really looks like that when they dance — like the music was made for them, part of them. Sure, in the movies, but it’s all editing and choreography. No one dances like that in real life.
But there was Jessica, right in front of him, yanking him into the fantasy. The other dancers, surreal in their masks and painted faces, melted into a kaleidoscope of color whirling around her.
He moved forward, irresistibly drawn to her. She circled, just out of reach. She moved with wanton abandon, brushing her body against his. He reached again, his fingertips just brushing the soft skin of her arm … . And she was gone. She had to be doing it on purpose. Taunting him. Staying just out of reach. Just as he felt his control about to snap, the gods smiled on him and the song ended.
The lights dimmed even lower and the band segued into a slow instrumental.
He caught her slender wrist and yanked her against him. She gasped.
“Payback,” he whispered. She shivered. He wondered if it was fear or anticipation.
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