I’m cackling so hard that I’m coughing, nearly brought to my knees with exhaustion. “If you don’t stop, I’m gonna choke! You’re killing me with your horrible dance moves!”

Finally she straightens up and places a tiny fist on her hip. “Well, what am I doing wrong? How am I supposed to learn if you just keep laughing at me?” She’s trying to give me the stern, serious face, but I see a smile at the corners of her mouth, clawing its way free. When she can’t fight it any longer, she howls with laughter right along with me, until we’re both on the floor, clutching our stomachs.

“I told you I couldn’t dance!” she says, jabbing my arm with her finger. We’ve spent the better part of ten minutes just catching our breath. Whenever I thought I was over it, I’d get a flashback of her bent over, her narrow hips willing her ass cheeks to move, with that look of sheer determination on her face. Luckily, the song has long ended and changed to something less unfortunate, or I probably would’ve hacked up my spleen.

“Holy shit, Ally. You can’t. You really can’t.”

She rolls over on her side and looks at me, a few tears of laughter still in her eyes. “So do you think…do you think that’s why Evan does what he does? I mean, if I suck at shaking my ass, I probably can’t do…other stuff, right?”

I turn to face her, an odd feeling replacing the hilarity I felt just seconds before. It’s something like sadness and sympathy and anger all rolled into one, and compressed into the hollow of my chest. It’s too intense to feel, too complex to describe. But I feel it. I feel it for Ally.

“Come on,” I say climbing to my feet. I stretch out a hand to help her up. “I’d never be able to forgive myself if I let you believe that was anything remotely close to dancing.”

Ally lets me pull her up, smoothing her dress over her hips. “Well, then. What would you call it?”

I tap the freckled bridge of her nose. “Seizing.”

“SO LIKE THIS?”

“Yeah, just like that. Dip your hips a little more.”

“Like that?”

“Yeah. Good. Now grind your ass on me.”

I know what you’re thinking.

I’m obviously asking for it. I’ve got to be some masochist that gets off on giving myself blue balls. But hear me out.

Ally needed help, and after seeing her so vulnerable and exposed, grasping onto any hope that she could redirect Evan’s attention, I had to give it my best shot.

Plus, I just really wanted to feel her brushing her ass against me while my hands grip her hips. Eh, I’m only a man. Sue me.

“I feel stupid,” she says with a huff. I feel her trying to slip away, but I hold her tighter, cursing the thin layer of soft cotton that keeps my fingers from touching her skin. I don’t even care if she feels my erection pressing against her ass. On some level, I want her to feel it. Maybe she’ll get just an inkling of what she does to me.

“You don’t look stupid though. You should see yourself.”

“Really?”

Hit with a sudden stroke of genius, I spin her around to face me. “Really. Let me show you.”

I lead Ally to my bedroom just as the song chances into something slow and sultry, yet equally provocative. The room is dim, with only the light from the hall filtering in to light our path. I switch on a bedside lamp, illuminating the space just enough for her to see what I see.

“Stand here,” I command gently, positioning her in front of the floor length, gold-framed mirror stationed beside my closet.

“You’re kidding, right? You want me to dance in front of this mirror?”

I take my place behind her, just barely leaving an inch between our bodies. “You wanted to see how sexy you look. Here’s your chance.”

Soft, muted light graces the contours of her cheekbones and lips as she looks at me through the mirror. “But this is so…” Her voice is merely a husky whisper, but I hear her loud and clear. From this angle, I can see all of her. I can admire the flush of her skin and the way it travels from her face to the tops of her breasts. I can see the way her eyelids droop to narrow slits when she sways her hips from side to side, like she’s intoxicated from the energy flowing from my body to hers. And she can see the way my hand snakes around her waist to rest on her stomach, pressing her into me as I lightly push against her.

Ally’s mouth parts, and something animalistic and hungry escapes her lips. She keeps moving, rolling her body with mine in time with the beat. The music is slow, yet the beat is infectious, like sex on Audible. I feel the drums in my chest, the strings in my soul. My movements are as fluid and instinctual as if I was sliding into Ally right here, right now. As if I was fucking her from behind, here in front of this mirror, watching her come apart in my arms.

My hands move from her stomach up to her ribcage, and I feel her breaths become deeper as if she’s gasping for precious air. Yet, she looks completely serene in this moment. So much so, that she lets her eyes slide closed as she loses herself to music and sensation. And as I watch her bite her bottom lip, her head reclined back on my chest, I lose myself in her.

This is where I should stop. Where I should make some stupid joke that’ll break the palpable tension that has our bodies fused together, my chest to her back, my front to the curve of her ass. It’s what’s smart and responsible. It’s what I would do if this were another time, and another girl, and another lifetime. But all I have is now, and I can’t see beyond the vision of her tight frame nestled into mine. I can’t feel anything but my body fitting around her like a glove, and her hands sliding their way up to my neck before fisting my hair.

She turns her head towards mine, and her breath fans over my neck like a whispered kiss. I pull her closer, and my lips just barely graze her forehead. She doesn’t flinch, just keeps moving with me, eyes closed. My lips move down to brush the soft velvet of her eyelid, then her warm cheek. And when she doesn’t make a move in protest, space and time diminish under the weight of this moment. This single moment that could very well destroy everything, yet crushes all consequence into a speck of dust too infinitesimal to even acknowledge.

My lips find hers like they’ve known them forever. Like they’ve never kissed another set of lips that were this soft, this sweet. They submit to me, and my tongue touches hers, gently at first, as we learn each other’s taste. Then we’re all hunger and passion as Ally turns her body to face mine, allowing my mouth to connect wholly with hers.

We communicate without words, settling for throaty moans and grasps of clothing and hair. I push her up against the mirror, cradling her face so I can taste her deeper. She brings a thigh up to my hip and I gladly grip it, lifting her body up with my palms. Ally wraps her legs around my waist, locking them at the ankles, and giving my hands access to the skin revealed by her gathered dress. I should be gentle and take this slow, but I’m starving for her. Too famished to think about stopping now or coming up for air.

My fingers digging into her ass, I grind my rock-hard length into her thinly sheathed sex. I fuck her through cotton and lace, while my mouth makes love to her jaw and neck. Damn these clothes; I want them off. I need to have her skin on mine; I need to make her moan from more than just my kiss. I need my lips and tongue to taste the parts of her that are so damp and humid that I can feel the heat through my slacks.

“Wait.”

I can’t tell if it’s a whisper or whine, or even just my imagination. Jiminy Cricket and his cock-blocking ass can go to hell.

“Wait, Justice. Wait! Stop!”

Cold water floods my veins, extinguishing the white heat burning in my groin. I slowly place Ally down on her feet and take a step back, so she can straighten her clothing into their once perfectly pressed state. So she can erase any evidence that I was between her legs, reducing her to a disheveled mess of ravenous tongue, frenzied hands and impassioned moans.