She never does, though. On a direction change, she switches feet, stepping back instead of toward me.
I push against her. “Hey, I was leading!”
Her satisfied purr drips down my chest. “Not anymore.”
My breath flees me as Christine pulls me into the next bar, then sends me spinning into a twirl. She catches me on the beat, and it’s all I can do to keep my feet under me as she changes direction again.
She leads like a pro, flowing us through steps far more advanced than my weekend workshops got into.
And when the shock wears off, I find myself… havingfun. There’s something thrilling about being at her mercy, knowing she’s going to put me through my paces, find my limits. I’m excited for what she throws at me next, eager to prove that I can take it, whatever it is.
As the song moves through its crescendo, Christine pushes me into a dip.
I realize, as I fall toward the ground, making no effort to brace?—
I trust her completely.
With her hand spanning the small of my back, and the other under my neck, she dips me so low that my hair brushes the floor.
Applause erupts around us, but I hardly hear it.
Her lips are so close, if I just hooked my arms over her neck…
Christine pulls me back upright and sets me on my feet. Her hand slides around my waist, pulling me tight to her side as our crewmates offer her enthusiastic high-fives.
The firmness of her hand on my hip says she won’t tolerate anyone else touching me right now, and I’m too drunk to pretend I want to fight that. I lean into her smell, her warmth. It’s just one night, right? Why not enjoy being the prize an alpha wants to defend, for once?
As the next song grabs the crew’s attention, Christine pulls me toward the bar. “Let’s get you some water.”
“Where the fuck did you learn to dance like that?”
“That answers the question of whether you’ve been following my career.”
I click my tongue. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
She raises a brow at me. “I was on Dancing with the Stars last year.”
“Oh.Did you win?”
Christine’s laugh is warm and rich as she hands me a glass of water. I like it when she laughs like that. I don’t think I’ve heard it much before.
“Third place,” she says.
“That’s pretty good.”
“Imagine how much better I could’ve done if I’d actually tried.”
I choke on my water, then cast a skeptical look up at Christine. “I can never tell if you’re being serious.”
The corner of her mouth hooks upwards. “You’re just full of compliments tonight.”
I roll my eyes, then chug the rest of my water. “Okay, I hydrated, can I have more alcohol now?”
There’s a coy glint in her eye. “Why are you asking me?”
“Because…” Shit. Did I adjust that quickly to following her lead? “You’re bossy. I’m just being proactive.”
“Oh,I’mbossy?”
