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giving him my best come-and-get-me look. He doesn't move. His stare is so strong though, it's like his eyes have arms that just wrapped around and hugged me.
    I take a break when Jagger holds a plastic cup out to me, signaling my drink is ready.
    "Thanks," I say, taking a long sip.
    "Maybe you should give the dancing a rest. Looks like you're working up a sweat out there," he says, allowing his eyes to fall from mine and trailing down my neck and then to my clinging T-shirt.
    "No way." I challenge him with my stare, "I'm just getting started. Besides, this should help cool me off," I say, holding the plastic cup up and pressing it against my cheek, dragging it down the side of my face, down my neck to my chest.
    "Sweetheart," he leans in and speaks right into my ear, making my insides quiver. "You keep that up and I might have to cool you down myself by taking you out of here, stripping you down under the moonlight, and rubbing ice all over your body."
    Cool me down? The scene he set did nothing to cool me down. Instead the image ignited flames. Hot, burning flames inside me.
    "Promises, promises. You want to get me out of my clothes, you have to dance with me first. Come on."
    I don't try to pull him. Not by the hand anyway. I intend to tease him until he can't help but join me. Again, I back up into the crowd. This time I close my eyes and tune out everything but the sound of the music and the desire to feel Jagger's hands on me.
    My body moves as if the music and I are one. My hands crawl up my sides and into my hair as my knees bend and my hips sway. I drop my head back as my hands start inching their way down the sides of my face and neck, until bingo! Strong, firm hands grip my waist from behind as I'm pulled against a warm, hard body.
    I smile in celebration. I knew I could lure him over.
    I open my eyes, feeling triumphant, and meet Jagger's penetrating stare. A scowl covers his face. His eyes are dark. Angry. The hands on my waist move up my sides and brush over my breasts. It's this moment my heart skips into a frenzied rhythm. Frozen in fear, I can't move. While I've been trying to tease and tempt Jagger, another man stole his invitation.
    I turn to face the man I'm dancing with. I need to break away. Before I can make a move, he leans in, his mouth searching for mine. Turning my head, I avoid his lips and take a step back. He pulls me tight against him, holding me closer this time.
    "Relax, sweetheart." 
    My hands push against his chest and I arch my back as his lips drop to my neck just below my ear. He peppers kisses up toward my mouth. I can't push him off, can't squirm out of his hold. His lips feel like spiders crawling on my skin. Before they make contact with mine, I'm pulled away, out of his arms, and spun around.
    My heart pounds furiously against my chest, fear and adrenaline having taken over. Jagger doesn't look at me, doesn't say anything. Still, I feel my body relax and let go of the insane tension I felt a breath ago in the grips of the stranger. 
    "She's with me," Jagger growls, his eyes locked on the guy behind me. If I didn't know better, the look on Jagger's face would frighten me. It's downright menacing.
    "Looks like she's on her own if you ask me."
    "No one's asking."
    Jagger holds me possessively with his arm around my waist, I'm tucked in tight against his side, and nothing in my life has ever felt better. I rest one hand on his shoulder, the other on his chest, his strong solid chest, as he continues to stand his ground over me. I can't resist the urge to move my hand over the ridges and hard muscle beneath it.
    I lean my head against Jagger, lost in the smell and feel of him. We fit together like puzzle pieces. Every curve and edge matches up together.
    "See," Jagger says in a much calmer voice, looking down at me like I'm something special. Like I'm a treasure. "She's with me. Sorry for the confusion."
    I don't bother to glance at the other man to make sure he's leaving. I don't want to