Rebound (5 page)

When I pulled the doors open to
enter the ladies’ room, I held the door for the three model-types
that exited. I recognized them to be Dashing’s girlfriend and those
of his companions. They were beautiful. Suddenly, I felt vertically
challenged and was more aware of my curves than I’d ever have.
Before I saw these women, I’d never felt sexier than I did tonight
in my green dress. Now, I felt like a large, green ogre. I rolled
my eyes and Keta grimaced in acknowledgement of my thoughts. We
waited a bit before we were able to get our own stalls. I was able
to pull myself together as we talked about how much fun we were
having. I got a stall and quickly relieved myself, feeling more
comfortable. I went to the sink and washed my hands. I assessed my
makeup in the mirror and decided to touch up my lipstick, which had
slightly worn off from the drinks. When Keta finished washing her
hands, we walked back to our reserved space.

On return, Patty poured us another
shot. After downing my second shot, or third, I thought it was time
to give the bride-to-be a lap dance. I walked around the glass
coffee table, shaking my hips and pointing my index finger at her.
The other girls squealed, stood up, and pump their arms in the air.
Chelsea sat while waving her arms in a "no" motion. She’s so prim
and demure that I knew she would be embarrassed as hell to have me
do a lap dance in the club at her bachelorette party.

She screamed, laughed and
covered her eyes as I put my hands on her knees, stooping my breast
toward her face and swaying my hips from side to side. I repeated
the motion, and took one hand off her face, placing it on my hip. I
turned my body and pumped my rear in front of her. I felt a few
slaps each time I moved from side to side. When I looked over to
the girls at the left and the right of me, they were laughing and
clapping.
I turned and seductively put my
nose to her nose and grinned. Her hands clapping back to her
face.

I sat at the edge of
Chelsea's closed lap, and began to writhe. I spread my legs to
their widest point, popped my hips and ass up. I held onto my shins
and I wriggled my ass toward her face. She
slapped my behind with one hand, tentatively. I turned around
and saw that she had her eyes closed with the other hand. While on
her lap, I crossed my legs and placed my arm around her neck. The
liquid courage that she’d consumed loosened her up and allowed her
to hold onto my waist, steading me on her knees.

I turned and leaned my torso back,
arching severely so that my head rested on her shoulder. I wriggled
seductively on her body, and writhed on her knees to the beat of
the music. The girls were chanting Chelsea’s name. Her hands slid
down my hips. I smacked her hands. I squatted in front of her, and
I put up a finger wagging “no” while mouthing, “No touching.” She
smiled and looked over my shoulder. The smile on her face faded and
looked perplexed.

I noticed that the chanting
stopped in waves. I felt a large hand grab my wrist. I immediately
thought one of the bouncers was trying to stop me from dancing so
provocatively. I was fully dressed and didn’t show any more skin
than the go-go dancers on the stage and platforms, but this club
was not that type of venue. I looked from Darby on my left to
Chelsea in front of me. Their mouths were agape.

My vision turned to the source of
the manhandling. It was Dr. Keene. His face, looking dark and
serious, had no hint of a smile at the spectacle that I created. He
tugged at my wrist and pulled me toward him. He turned to walk away
with my wrist in his vice grip. The girls gave us space to walk out
of our lounging area. They looked at him with wide eyes in
surprise.

He walked so fast that when I
almost tripped in my heels, I tugged at my wrist. He stopped to
wait for me to straighten myself out, continuing to keep a hold of
me. With his right arm, he grabbed me around the waist, pulling me
close to his body, to steady me as walked along. He smelled
incredible, a mix of a woodsy cologne and his natural musky smell
from the heated club. Once I was balanced, he let go of my torso
and grabbed my hand, leading me to the dance floor. I relished his
touch, not wanting him to let me go. His large hands dwarfed mine,
and were warm to the touch. I wondered why he was giving me the
time of day. I was sure that he would notice my sweaty
palm.

He slowed down to make sure that I was
aware of the three steps down to the dance floor. He raised my arm,
helping me balance. The dance floor was crowded with people. He
walked ahead of us, parting the mass of people dancing at the edge
of the floor. We walked to a spacious area, and he pulled me close.
He moved our bodies to the beat of the song. The palm of his right
hand rested at the base of my lower back while his left hand rested
at my shoulder blade. I felt flutters in my belly. I couldn’t bring
myself to look in his face. He is so sickeningly gorgeous. My
forearms rested on his upper arms and my hands rested on his
shoulders. I felt like a fifth grader dancing an awkward slow dance
with the tall boy at her first dance. However, this boy was pulling
me very close to his body, and I refused to feel if there was a
hardness on his groin.

I wanted to see his divine face
because stealing looks at the gym was not enough to get my fill of
his gorgeousness. His face was so close to mine that I shyly peered
up. I was now aware of his breathe on my cheek. I drank in his
intoxicating scent. His eyes were closed as he was grooving to the
music. I moved in tune to his rhythmic movements. His ease in being
so close to me made me relax.

A faster paced song was mixed in, and
I pulled away slightly from his body, his arms slackened a bit. I
turned around, while still in his arms, and started swaying and
shaking my behind to the heightened beat. His large, strong hands
grabbed onto my hips and pulled me closer to his groin. We started
moving in sync and I could distinctly feel an erection, which
brought a grin to my face and jolted my ego. Taking full advantage
of this newfound sensation, I moved myself back into his body,
pushed my back to his front grinding my ass to his crotch. His
large hands, my favorite part of him so far, held my hips close to
him. His head lowered onto my shoulder and his prickly beard grazed
my ear and chin.

I could barely hear him say, “What are
you doing to me?” With that question, I popped my hips back, arched
my back and rested my head softly back to his chest. I felt his
fingers tighten around my hips. His thumb pressed on the spot where
I had the most tension in my hip. Despite the pressure, it felt
amazing to have that spot kneaded to relaxation. I felt little
waves of desire in my lower belly. The tingles coursed through me.
I had an overwhelming need to mount him. I was so aroused, but so
unsure why we were even dancing together.

I felt my dress rising to an
unacceptable height, I took both hands and tugged it down to my
sides. He lowered his large hands from my hips down my outer, upper
thighs, and lifted the dress back up. I turned my head and looked
up at him, seeing a devilish grin.

I turned around to face him, and asked
loudly, “What are you doing to me?” Without responding, he leaned
in and kissed me on the lips. Not wanting him to stop, I lifted up
onto the balls of my feet and leaned into his kiss. His tongue
stroked at the seam of my lips, parting them, demanding entry. He
held me tight and I felt like I would be absorbed into his
body.

I tilted my head and parted my mouth,
inviting his tongue in further. He breathed in and groaned slightly
as tongues melded together. Electric shock waves went up and down
my spine as he pulled me closer and kissed me more deeply. Our
bodies swayed from side to side. His arms were completely wrapped
around my body as we both stopped dancing, but continued rocking to
the beat. As we kissed, I could feel him lifting me up with his
strong arms. I was so thankful for the platform heels, which gave
me height and assisted his lifting my curvy body. My arms wrapped
around his neck and my fingers raked through his soft, wavy black
hair.

I didn’t want to stop kissing him. I
hadn’t been kissed passionately in some time. I didn’t even think
I’d been kissed like that ever. I certainly never felt these
feelings and emotions with Ben. Then I remembered that he wasn’t
here alone. I wondered if she could see us dancing, and now we’re
kissing.

I felt myself overheating with my
desire for him, the emotions of kissing another woman’s man, the
body heat emanating from our bodies and from all the bodies on the
dance floor, multiplied by the drinks that I’d already tipped back,
I pried my lips away. I took a deep breath. I fanned my face and
mouthed, “I’m hot.”

“
Yes, you are.” He
uttered. I grinned. He lowered me down the inches he’d lifted me
up, took my hand in his, and walked me toward the bar, which was
clear across from my girls.

I turned to look at them. Although
they were at a distance, they kept their eyes on us as we moved
forward, through the dancers, to the bar. His hand gripped mine
tightly. It hurt a bit, but I didn’t want him to let go. I slid my
thumb up and down over his knuckles, hoping he would loosen his
grip and reassuring him that I was with him. He stopped suddenly
and looked down at me, and his hand relaxed. I grabbed at his bicep
with my free hand, balancing myself toward him and away from the
bodies surrounding us. He leaned over, grazing my nose with his,
and giving me a deep peck on the lips. My insides melted with the
intimate attention. A smile lifted at the corners of my
mouth.

I hugged his arm closer, pressing my
breasts to him as we walked to the bar, savoring the feelings he
drew out of me. The bar was swarmed with people ordering drinks. He
caught the eye of a bartender and ordered two waters. Within
seconds two uncapped waters were handed to him. Over the loud
music, I heard the bartender say, “All set, Doc.” I was surprised
and impressed that he was known here. He handed me the water. I
gulped a couple of ounces. I was so hot and thirsty. Sweat gathered
on my scalp and forehead.

“
Does that help?” He
asked, leaning in my ear.

“
Yes. Thanks.” I responded
in his other ear. He walked us to the corner of the club where the
music wasn’t as loud.

“
That was quite a show you
were giving your girlfriends.” He stated with his deep voice that
could make any woman’s panties drop.

“
It’s my best friend’s
bachelorette party. I promised her a good time.

“
I’d say she wasn’t the
only one being shown a good time.” He responded with a grin. I
laughed. Where did his personality come from?

“
Do you give lap dances
often?” He asked and then took a swig of his water as his eyes
beaded and looked directly into me.

I leaned into his ear and replied, “I
don’t go out much. When I do, I tend to be the life of the
party.”

“
I don’t doubt you’re the
life of the party. It’s a pleasant surprise to see you here
tonight.” He declared, and took a long sip of water, never taking
his eyes off of me. My temperature rose again.

“
It’s nice to see you here
too. But isn’t your date going to be pissed that you were dancing
with me?”

“
My date? I only came in
with my friends, and their girlfriends.” His response noted
surprise at my question.

“
Oh. So the tall blonde
with leg for centuries isn’t your girlfriend?” I asked, surprised.
Good to know.

“
Brigit? No, she’s my
friend Brady’s current girlfriend. Jealous?” He smirked.

“
No.” I declared, hoping I
didn’t show that I had actually been affected by seeing them
together. I made an assumption, and was delightfully wrong. I took
another sip of water. “I just don’t want to step onto another
woman’s territory. I don’t need the drama.” He laughed.

“
Speaking of drama,
wouldn’t you’re boyfriend mind you kissing another man? Because if
you were my woman, I wouldn’t let you out of my sight. I’ve seen
how many men have been ogling and approaching you tonight.” His
face became serious. His jaw flexed and his eyes bored into me,
assessing me. He took another swig of his water.

“
Boyfriend? I don’t know
what you’re talking about.”

“
Don’t act coy, Perla. The
guy that told you he loved you. At the gym. I heard him when I
walked out of the locker room.” He heard us, and he sounded
jealous?

“
Carson? The man you saw
me with, he’s not my boyfriend.”

“
I saw you two dancing in
the studio. It looked pretty intimate.” Was he the shadowy figure?
I found that interesting.

“
Carson’s my husband.” The
shock on his face was ego boosting. It was a mix of sickness and
jealousy wrapped into one beautiful package.

“
I thought you said you
were divorced.” He ran his fingers through his hair in frustrated
surprise. He brought the water bottle to his lips to take a drink
and looked around as if he were hatching an escape plan.

“
I’m fucking with you.” He
looked even more confused. “Carson was my dance partner when I was
at the Conservatory. He’s my best friend. And when you saw us, he’d
announced that he’d become engaged to his longtime . . . boyfriend,
Turner. I’m gonna be his ‘best gal’, in other words, his best man.”
He choked a bit on some water and coughed. I reached up to pat him
on the back, and may have kept my hand on his rippled muscles for
far longer than I should have.