Home > Floored (Frenched #3)(17)

Floored (Frenched #3)(17)
Author: Melanie Harlow

“Whoa.” Charlie grabbed my arm so I didn’t go down completely. “And you’re the teacher? I want my twenty bucks back.”

“Charlie. What a surprise.” I recovered, but my nerves still jittered as if I couldn’t get my balance. He was dressed in gray pants and a fitted black button down that showed off his lean muscularity, but it was his hands I couldn’t stop looking at. And his mouth. I kept replaying those few seconds when he’d pulled, turned, kicked, bent me over, and pinned me before I even realized what was happening. I kept hearing that low, calm voice as it told me what to say. I kept feeling those strong fingers slide between my legs.

Confession: I have no idea what dance steps I taught that night. Not a clue.

Here’s what I do remember:

Her name was Krista. “With a K.”

She was a terrible dancer.

Charlie wasn’t lying about his rhythm.

I know this because Krista with a K raised her hand at one point and asked for help. Willing my knees not to wobble, I walked over to them.

“He’s doing it wrong,” she complained, her glossy nude lips in a pout.

“I don’t think so.” Charlie turned her beneath his arm correctly. “I think you’re trying to go the wrong way.”

“Let me watch,” I said, smiling at Krista. She’d been giving me the stink eye all night, probably because when Charlie introduced us, he’d called her his friend, but he referred to me as the sweet little thing who broke his heart when we were kids. A ridiculous lie, which I’d quickly cleared up, but I could tell she viewed me as her competition.

They executed the move again, and sure enough, Krista tried to turn the wrong way, and furthermore, she did it on the wrong beat and didn’t wait for him to lead it.

“OK. Well, first, you have to let him lead you—no turning on your own. Remember, on the actual dance floor, you’d have no idea what was coming. So the woman has to just keep the basic pattern with her feet and follow his lead. If he’s doing it right, you should feel that gentle pressure.”

Charlie burst out laughing. “If I’m doing it right, you’ll feel more than gentle pressure.”

I glared at him. “Hush, you. Try it again, Krista.”

“Let me try it with you,” Charlie said.

“With me?” Pull. Turn. Kick. Bend. Pin. My belly hollowed with a whoosh. “Uh, OK.”

Krista looked less than pleased so I tried to keep my expression neutral and my proximity to his body teacher-student appropriate. It took monumental effort, though, because as soon as we got into a closed position, I could smell him. I hadn’t even realized Charlie had a smell that night in my kitchen, but when he looped an arm around my back and pulled me toward him, the memory of his body taking control of mine hit me like a freight train. It’s a good thing he was a decent dancer, because I did nothing but move where he put me and inhale his scent. It wasn’t even cologne or soap or anything—it was just his skin. God, I wish I could bottle and sell it. I’d call it Autumn Orgasm. I’d make a fortune.

“Well? How did I do?” Charlie looked at me expectantly.

“Um, great. Perfect.” I nearly came. I let go of him and took a step back. “Just relax and let him lead you,” I said to Krista. “You’re doing fine.”

“You going out tonight?” he asked me.

“Me? No. I have to work here tonight.”

“I thought the class ended at nine.”

“It does, but I’m staying late to finish ripping out the old floor downstairs. It’s warped. We started today but didn’t finish, and the guys are coming to lay the new sub floor on Friday so I can put a new dance surface on top of it over the holiday weekend. I’ll probably have to work tomorrow too.” I was talking too fast, saying too much. Krista yawned.

“On Thanksgiving?”

I shrugged. “Have to do it when the students aren’t here.”

“Do you need help?”

“Charlie, I thought we were going to dinner at Ottava Via after this. You promised if I came here, you’d take me there.” Krista pouted prettily.

“Relax. I will.” Charlie looked at me. “I could help you tomorrow, if you want.”

“No, that’s all right. Enjoy Ottava Via. I love that place.”

“Me too.” He gave me The Smile. “What do you know, something to add to the list. Right after beer.”

I had to smile back, and something fluttered in my stomach that scared me like crazy.

Because it wasn’t sexual. It was genuine affection.

Oh dear. Oh dear. No, no, no. My brain sounded a red alert, telling me to flee before my emotions got away from me. But my feet felt weighted to the ground next to him, even as my heart threatened to balloon up out of my body.

Thankfully, someone else called my name for help right then, and I turned away from them. I taught the rest of lesson in a blur, thankful it was a crowded night and a lot of other couples wanted my attention. Staying busy kept me from staring at Charlie and Krista, wondering if he was banging her already or if he’d take her home and bang her for the first time tonight. Would I cross his mind while they were doing it?

Then I got angry. What the hell was he doing bringing a date to my dance class? Why show up at all, unless it was to see me again? And if he did want to see me again, why not just ask me for coffee like last time? Then again, maybe he didn’t care about seeing me. Maybe he just wanted to bring Krista with a K to a dance class.

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