Runaway ✔

125 • Dana

Dana rubbed her shoulder blades against his chest as they moved with the rhythm of the music. One hand was lying on her stomach, with the other he held hers. They'd danced together before in the club house, but never on Latin American music, which was much more sensual than the rock songs they usually listened to. She looked over her shoulder. The smile on his face was gold. Like every time she saw it, her heart seemed to falter. She wouldn't be surprised if it would cause her death one day. 

He turned her around, until they were standing face to face. She wrapped her arms around his neck. "Well, your hips are pretty flexible for such a bad ass biker." She wondered if he'd danced like this before. She couldn't see his brothers doing it. 

"Must be my Puerto Rican roots," he grinned. 

"So it seems. Juan Carlos," she continued with a smirk, letting the "r" roll so it sounded more Spanish. 

A dark, lustful glow showed up in his eyes, even though it could also be the reflection of her own glance. Again he turned her 180 degrees and pulled her back against his chest again. His hand was now lying a bit lower on her stomach, his fingers tips touching her pubis, but not so low others would find it disturbing. 

Dana felt the desire for him rise again, especially when his waist rubbed her behinmd and his lips trailed kisses from her shoulder to her neck. 

"You're so hot," he whispered in her ear. "I'm an idiot for taking you to a place with so many other people."

Her hand glided across his and pushed it a little bit down. "That's what's turnin' me so on."

It was no lie. It caused a tension, as if they were doing some sneaky thing, looking for the outer limits of what was appropriate. 

"It's turning you on? Damn, I don't know how much longer I can control myself."

She chuckled. "You want me to take control of your little friend?"

As some sort of warning, he bit her neck. 

She giggled. "I think I'm already looped. Must be the heat."

"Or they put more alcohol in the mixers here. Maybe we should try another one."

Dana rubbed up against him a bit more, feeling his erection pressing against her bottom. "You mean you need a break?" 

She felt his hot, heavy breathing against her skin. "Fuck Dana, I'm serious. You're so fucking hot. You barely have to touch me and all I can think of is how it feels to be inside you. I love you so fucking much."

Hearing his husky voice made the hairs on her arms rise. She hadn't seen him tipsy often, in Charming he'd always been sober because of Maddox. It was clear fucking was his favorite word at the moment – and without a doubt also his favorite activity. She chuckled. "Fine, let's grab a drink to cool off. Even though I'm always in for sex in new places, the toilets are too gross here."

She stuck out her tongue as she saw his wronged face. It wasn't disappointment, rather indignation because of the suggestion he would ask something like that from her. 

. . .

They stayed in the club for some time, dancing and kissing and drinking, until they both craved for fresh air and decided to take a walk down the beach. Dana had hooked an arm around Juice's because he could no longer walk straight ahead, even though she let him believe she was the one having trouble with that. 

And maybe she was. 

"I wouldn't mind to take a dip," she said after a while.

"Naked?"