Page 38 of Resurgent
Chapter Eleven
Charlotte
“Do you think we’ll see Manny and his wife?” I ask Liam as we walk to the resort’sdiscoteca.To be honest, I don’t give a flying fuck about Manny, his wife, or even salsa dancing for that matter. Ever since I told Liam we should cross kinky sex off his bucket list tonight, it’s all I’ve been able to think about. I said it was to make sure we considered every angle, but I wasn’t fooling either of us. This sexual adventure Liam and I are on has nothing to do with his bucket list, or even my decision to live in the moment, and everything to do with the intense and undeniable chemistry between us. What started as a spark has turned into a blazing bonfire, and we’re both about to combust.
“I hope so. That’ll just add credibility to us living it up on our honeymoon. Hopefully, it will help alleviate any suspicion when we disappear tomorrow.”
We step inside the door of thediscoteca, where a chalkboard sign announces salsa lessons at eight o’clock. I lift my eyebrows at Liam. “Lessons?”
“It’s on the list. You may know how, but I don’t. C’mon.” He grabs my hand, pulling me over to the dance floor where several other couples are standing, along with a woman in a very tight dress with curves that could wreck a Maserati. “I’ve got to learn how before the nightclub opens.”
While it took me months to learn how to salsa, Liam picks it up in less than an hour. And oh my God, what an hour. The classes I took in college were nothing like this. Or maybe the difference is my partner—every lean, hard inch of his six-foot frame pressed against mine, his hands constantly roaming over my skin as he pulls me to him or spins me under his arm. I’m on the tall side, five eight in my bare feet. With heels on, I tend to tower over most men, but even in my three-inch strappy sandals, I feel small next to Liam. It’s a nice feeling.
“Señora!”The instructor’s voice over my shoulder as Liam and I practice the most recent sequence of steps we learned startles me. “Stop trying to lead,” she chastises me. “Again!” She makes a circle in the air with her fingers. “Do the spin.”
Liam and I exchange a conspiratorial smile as we repeat the steps leading up to the spin, but when he lifts his arm to send me into the turn, something goes wrong again. The instructor clicks her tongue at me. “He is trying to turn you clockwise, but you are hijacking the move and going counterclockwise. When you drive a car, there is one driver. Similarly, in salsa, there is one leader.Oneleader,” she repeats, holding up one finger as she fixes me with her stern gaze. “Who is the leader here?”
I sigh. “He is.” His eyes flare with heat and the slow smile he gives me makes my stomach tighten in response. Salsa is sexy in and of itself, but her comments, coupled with what I know is to come later tonight, is creating a whole different dynamic, one that has me aching with need for something I never imagined I would want, but that I now can’t wait to experience. Funny what staring death in the face does to you.
“Then you must clear your mind and completely trust him. His slightest hint is your command, so you must be attuned to him and be ready to follow wherever he leads.”
“You hear that, sweetheart? My slightest hint is your command,” he repeats with a sexy grin laced with innuendo. I stick my tongue out at him.
“And you…” She turns her gaze to Liam. “You must know your partner and what she is and isn’t capable of. You must listen to what her body is telling you. If you are both doing these things…” She stops and lifts her gaze and hands toward the ceiling, closing her eyes in a brief moment of rapture. “…it is the perfect union. Salsa is a conversation, not a fight. Make sure you’re listening.”
She moves away, and I get into position to try the step again. “Hey. Look at me.” Liam’s voice is soft but commanding, and our gazes lock. “Do you trust me?”
“Of course,” I say. “I wouldn’t be here with you if I didn’t.” I’m smiling, but it’s true. My life has literally been in his hands several times already in the last few days.
“Then trust me with your body.” I’m not sure if he’s talking about the dance or what’s to come later tonight.
“Okay,” I say softly. There’s no way I’m turning back now. I’m not used to trusting anyone but myself, but here in Mexico with the drug cartel and possible death a heartbeat away, I have no choice. And the more I’m forced to let go, the headier it becomes.
With my eyes fixed on Liam’s, I let go of everything—where the next dance step will be, whether I’ll know where to go or fall flat on my face, where this whole thing will end—and I trust him to lead. This time, I twirl effortlessly into Liam’s embrace, and we both grin at each other like five-year-olds who just found the secret stash of Halloween candy.
“You were right,” he says an hour later as we take a break from dancing to sit at the bar. After the lesson, the club opened to the public, and we’ve gotten to practice our moves to a live band, along with dozens of Mexican couples who all seem to have come out of the womb knowing how to swivel their hips and cha-cha. But if I do say so myself, we looked pretty good out there.
“About what?”
He takes his time, ordering a beer for each of us and taking a long pull of his before answering. “About salsa dancing being a lot like kinky sex. You still want to dance?”
Time stops, and my skin suddenly feels impossibly warm. There’s no mistaking what he’s asking me. “Yes,” I say, my voice low.
Wordlessly, he takes my hand and pulls me off the barstool. “Let’s go.”
“But, my beer—”
“Forget it. I want you sober this time. I want you to feel everything, and I want there to be no doubt that you know exactly what you’re doing. Besides, if I have to wait too much longer, my dick is going to explode.”
A rare sense of feminine power flushes over me. I’ve never had a man unable to wait to get his hands on me, one who wants to make love to me so badly that he’ll leave an untouched drink at the bar without a second thought. And most definitely not one who looks like Liam— every rugged, decadent inch of him.
We walk hand in hand down the increasingly dark path to our villa, the night getting blacker with each turn we take that leads us farther away from the lighted main area. The jungle lies just beyond, pitch-black and filled with unfamiliar noises, but I feel safe with Liam.
“Look.” He stops, and we both gaze up. Away from the lights of civilization, the sky is blanketed with thousands of twinkling points of light, even more than Playa del Carmen.
“Beautiful,” he breathes with reverence.
“It is.” I step closer to him with a sense of déjà vu, remembering the last night we walked along the beach under the stars.
