The Reluctant Vampire - Lynsay Sands [44]
“Make it two,” Harper suggested, and then quickly downed his own and replaced it on the tray.
“You got it,” the woman said cheerfully, and swung away.
Smiling, Drina slid her hands around Harper’s neck as he drew her back into his arms.
“Stephanie was wrong about you not dancing since ‘Gone-With-the-Wind-dresses’ were in fashion,” Harper said with amusement as she shifted against his body to the slower beat. “You know how to move to modern music.”
“Beth and I often hit the clubs with some of the other hunters after work. It’s good for blowing off steam,” she admitted, and then said, “You don’t do so bad yourself. You’re disproving that old saying about white men not being able to dance.”
Harper chuckled. “I don’t know about that.”
“I do,” she assured him, and then deliberately moved close enough that their hips met, and added, “Beth says that’s a sure sign that a man is good in bed. Are you good in bed, Harper?”
Harper’s laughter caught in his throat, and his eyes flared silver-green. Then he caught her by the back of her head and kissed her. It was no slow, gentle melding of mouths, but as if their earlier embrace had never been interrupted, and they were just continuing that. His mouth was hungry, hot, and hard, devouring rather than exploring, demanding with no sign of tentativeness. He wanted her, bad, and didn’t care who knew.
It wasn’t the Sweet Ecstasy. That couldn’t possibly have kicked in yet, Drina knew. She tightened her arms around his neck, meeting his need with her own, and moaned into his mouth when his hands slid up her sides to the level of her breasts. He didn’t grab them as he had outside the restaurant, but kept them at her sides, allowing just his thumbs to feather along the sides of her breasts and then under them in a tantalizing caress that had her nipples hardening with hope that they could feel that touch. They didn’t. Instead, his thumbs slid back up again in another mostly innocent caress to join his fingers at her sides. Harper wasn’t so far gone down the road of need that he’d forgotten where they were, she realized, half-relieved and half-disappointed.
Her disappointment was mitigated a great deal when his leg slid between both of hers, and he dropped one hand down to press her bottom forward so that his thigh rubbed against her with every step. He didn’t remove his hand at once but let it dip lower, curving it briefly under her bottom and letting his fingers brush lightly between her legs in a caress that had her breath hitching in her throat. It was the swiftest of touches, and then his hand slid back up to her waist, but it was effective. The blood now roared in her ears, the strobing lights suddenly seemed blinding, and she was abruptly weak in the knees and sagging against him, flat out riding his thigh, which only intensified everything.
Drina didn’t realize the music had changed again until Harper broke their kiss and spun her away from him. Sound came crashing back, and she blinked her eyes open to see the others moving to the more frenetic beat. Harper drew her back then, not turning her to face him but pulling her up against his chest so that her bottom now pressed into his groin. He slid his arms around her waist, one atop the other directly below her breasts, and bent his head to her ear to whisper, “You’re trembling. Are you cold?”
The words were soft and teasing, and he nipped at her ear as he said them. Then he let one hand drift down over her stomach to her pelvis, where he pressed gently, and murmured, “Shall I warm you?”
Drina couldn’t have responded had she wanted. He was still moving them to the music, which was good because if he’d stopped, she would have simply stood there like an idiot. But while she was sure anyone looking would simply see two people dancing, it didn’t feel like dancing. It felt like foreplay.
“Our waitress is coming with our drinks. Shall we go sit down?” he asked by her ear, and Drina nodded at once, hoping she would regain some equilibrium if he wasn’t holding her.
Harper shifted his hold,