Twenty Two

Heavy tendrils of spice and desire echoed the plaintive hum of a violin. The low note of the answering viola wrapped an intoxicating brew of longing around her limbs. To let go, to be free, to let him bind her in his grip.

She broke the spell and pushed away from him, stumbling inside among the dancers moving toward the floor.

A hand spun her. Her breasts pushed against his chest, connecting them, as the rest of her body roughly pulled against his. His fingers wrapped around hers, the touch exploding through her, shooting up her arm, down her spine, coiling below.

"What do you think you‟re doing?" Her intended hiss came out on a caught breath.

"Dancing with the loveliest woman in the room." Strong arms pulled her onto the floor, leading her skillfully as the tempo increased.

"I‟m not dancing with you."

"I think you‟ll see that you are." He twirled her, keeping her close to him inside the other couples on the floor.