‘I don’t dance.’ Nicholas rolled his eyes and extended his hand to Ellia. She wasn’t much of a dancer, but she’d already had three gin and tonics so she allowed herself to be led onto the dance floor and spun and turned and dipped and swooped until she was laughing and the song had ended. The band took the guitar and microphone back and Lucas bounded towards them like an over excited puppy dog. He grabbed her hand and pulled her away from Nicholas. ‘I give him fifteen seconds,’ he said to Nicholas. Nicholas laughed and shook his head. ‘I bet he can hold out to thirty.’ Ellia was confused as Lucas wrapped an arm around her waist and started moving in time with the music. ‘What are you guys laughing about?’ She asked. ‘Watch this,’ he said with a twinkle in his eye. ‘There’s no way Micah will let me dance with you.’ ‘Huh? Why not? I just danced with Nicholas.’ ‘But I’m not Nicholas.’ Ellia squinted her eyes at him. What was that supposed to mean? She didn’t think Micah was the. This was not the usual back and forth ramming they had known with other partners. They moved together, each undulation serving as an attempt to further the penetration. The pressure on her clit from his abdomen grew heavy. She felt the bottom of the steering wheel pressing hard into her back. She knew her flesh was reddening into a curving bruise just above her ass. And yet she was in oblivion. She cared of nothing but there and then. Her boots and spurs were still on and the sides of the heels dug into the undersides of brad’s knees. Her spurs would only make contact with his skin occasionally, but each time he wondered would it be the feel of cold sharp steel pricking tiny holes in his flesh, drawing just the slightest drop of blood through the round patterned pinholes. Yet he too was enraptured. Her hair whipped across his face and chest when she finally broke the kiss. She now writhed independent of him, still with the same total contact, and she pulled him into the fit with her..
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