“Want to dance?”
The smile jumped back to my face. A hot bod, smoldering eyes, and he could dance. I could definitely fall in lust with this man.
He took my hand and led me inside to an area of the living room where couples swayed to live guitar and congas. A group of musicians in Hawaiian shirts stood to one side, beating, strumming, and blowing their hearts out. “They’re with the Nigerian UNAMIR contingent,” Jack shout-whispered in my ear, setting mosquitoes buzzing in my stomach. Before I could comment, Jack swept me into his arms and compelled me to move with his hips and shoulders. We lost ourselves in the rhythm and in each other, but I couldn’t forget his body pressed against mine and his strong arms keeping me upright.
“Where did a Virginia boy learn to dance like this?”
His lips quirked up and heat shot from my belly straight down. “I don’t tango and tell.”
I laughed, throwing my head back, letting the light breeze flowing in the windows cool my sweaty neck.
“Time for another drink?” His mouth nuzzled the skin below my ear as he spoke, his breath further warming my body.
I was torn. Sweaty and exhilarated, I could use a drink, but I didn’t want to separate myself from Jack’s hard body.
He twirled me around in a sudden move and a laugh poured out of me. On the return, I curled in to his chest, my hands on the soft fabric of his shirt, a thumbnail tapping against one of the buttons down the front.
His breath furled across my hair, warming my head. How I wished the room around us was empty.
A new song started, something slow and sultry, drums pounding into my core. Jack’s arms tightened around me.
I looked up into his face. He was no longer smiling. “I guess a drink can wait.”
We swayed together, breathing together.
The song ended and we parted, reluctantly.
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