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step away.
    To get back to business.
    Scott found himself unable to take his eyes off her. Or his hands.
    In the Mood gave way to Stompin’ at the Savoy , which brought another roar from the crowd. More songs went by. He lost count.
    Spinning, swirling. Colors, lights and sound. The smell of her hair, like sunshine and surf…
    The music filled his ears, drowning everything else. His muscles tingled and pinged at every press and pull. This wasn't a workout for the sake of punishment, for the sake of drowning the emptiness inside of him. This was…
    Fun.
     
    Scott lost track of time, he lost track of Docie May. There was only the movement of his own body and the one so pliable and responsive against his.  The simple brush of soft skin and warmed muscles responding to his touch, the feel of her hands on him as they moved…
    It stole over him like a drug. And for once Scott didn't fight it.
    Laughing, sweaty, they finally moved to the bar. Scott sucked down another beer in short order, while she opted for water.
    "So, you come here often?" He gave her a sly grin.
    She lifted an eyebrow and smirked. "How original, Johnny."
    "Hey, never mess with a classic."
    "My first time. You?"
    "My first time, too. Looks like we popped our cherries together."
    Her lips curved as she looked at him over her glass. "Something tells me you learn your way around virgin territory pretty fast."
    He returned her smile with a lazy one of his own. "You're not wrong."
    Scott caught himself staring at her mouth. It was distracting as hell; a soft, pillowy pink that scrambled his thoughts. Was he flirting?
    Was this him …flirting?
    No fucking way.
    Playing a part, he told himself firmly. Playing a goddamn part.
    Yet, it took significant effort to pull his gaze from that mouth and the promise of it.
    He ordered another beer. If he’d have been paying more attention, Scott might've noted the searching expression that flickered over her face and then faded. She looked down at her glass, chewing her lower lip.
    She continued to watch him intently as she sipped her water, grey eyes darkening.
    He didn't notice because his own vision had gone soft at the edges, the alcohol zipping through his veins along with the snap of adrenaline. His fingers tightened on the condensation slicked bottle as he raised it to his lips, his throat feeling oddly dry. Scott wasn't even close to drunk, but he was feeling damn good.
    "Answer a question for me, Johnny?" Her low, purring voice added to the buzz he was riding.
    "Sure. Ask away."
    "It's kind of personal."
    He stiffened slightly, then shrugged. "Go for it."
    "You lonely tonight?"
    Pain curled deep in his stomach, trying to steal the warmth of the night. He didn't answer her, but he didn't need to. She took one look at his face, then her fingers brushed his; warm and soft as flower petals before drifting away.
    "Yeah. Me, too. Lonely's a real bitch." She didn't say anything else, just watched him, her eyes gentle.
    Scott finished his beer, looking out at the dance floor.
    The silence between them spun out, surprisingly comfortable, filled by the music and drone of the club around them. A few minutes later she took his hand. Scott looked over to see an invitation in her eyes. One he chose to misinterpret.
    “Ready for more? I suppose I could go one—”
    She didn't let him finish, but tugged him to his feet. Instead of heading back to the floor, she pulled him into an alcove just off the bar. Down a little hallway that seemed to lead to offices. A private area, obviously not for customers. The music was muffled back here, the crowd a distant roar.
    Scott blinked for a minute, looking around in sudden confusion, thinking of Docie May for the first time since they'd started dancing. What the hell was he doing here?
    Before he do anything, he found himself pressed back into the wall. With her lips on his neck, soft against his heated skin.
    It shocked him. But not nearly as much as the desire that shot down his spine