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when Nathan mentioned that he’d heard them play at a local bar and loved their music, the hostility melted like ice on a warm summer day. Soon they were even pushing their mixes on him and trying to get him to include them in his Extreme Expressions roster. Shakira tried to subtly nudge London to stop the pimping but her friend was in her groove and Nathan’s little kiss on her ear and whispered ‘it’s okay’ was enough to replace her embarrassment with tingles of awareness.
    “He’s cool,” London announced when they went to the ladies’ room to freshen up.
    “He is, isn’t he?”Shakira agreed as she stroked her eyelashes with her mascara brush.
    “And he liiiiiikes you.”
    “No, he doesn’t.”
    London cut her eyes at her through the mirror. “Did you see how he couldn’t keep his eyes – or his hands – off you? The man has fallen. This is your chance.”
    “Chance for what?”
    “To break your prison virginity.” London resumed combing her hair and patting it. “I saw his dick. One night with that weapon and you’ll be back to fighting shape.”
    Shakira paused in her action, holding the mascara brush slightly away from her eye, as she asked, “You were checking out his dick.”
    “I always check out dicks,” London returned evenly. “He’s the perfect guy to sweep your cobwebs.”
    “I can’t have a…” Shakira’s words trailed off when she heard the flush of the loo behind them. She waited for the tall blonde who exited it to leave the room before she finished her sentence. “I can’t have a relationship. I just left one.”
    “Who said anything about a relationship?” London asked. “I’m talking one night of sweaty, sweaty bang-bang and then it’s adios amigos.”
    “A one night stand?”Shakira tested the phrase on her tongue just to see if she understood what London was suggesting.
    “Why not?”London shrugged. “You like him too.” Shakira opened her mouth to protest but London stopped her before she could. “I know you.”
    “I don’t do one-night stands.”
    “I know being a good girl has always been your thing,” London said as she turned to face Shakira completely. “But you just spent all this time in jail despite the fact that you were good – in fact tonight you could’ve been in prison. Why don’t you try being a little bad for just one night and see how it works?”
    “That doesn’t make sense.”
    “It will when you think about it later,” London assured her.
    As soon as they got back to the table, Enzo dragged London off to the dance-floor. Nathan shifted closer to Shakira, “Would you like to dance?”
    Why not?
    Shakira accepted the hand he offered her and rose to her feet. He guided her to the middle of the floor then stood opposite her. It was only when he started dancing that Shakira realized her error in judgment. The guy was a choreographer while she was the quintessential ‘black-girl-that-can’t-dance’. The only moves she knew were a few side to side sway of her hips that she wasn’t even sure were in rhythm with the reggae tunes blasting above and around them.
    Fortunately Nathan wasn’t a show-off and kept his sways smooth and mimicking hers. He smiled at her silently assuring her that she was doing okay. Shakira couldn’t help returning the smile. A sudden jostle behind her, sent her stumbling towards him. Nathan caught her adeptly just as her breasts met the hard planes of his chest. The muscles of his upper arms bunched up under her fingers sensuously. Flames that’d petered out into a low fire in the bottom of her belly flared up and licked against her nerves.
    Shakira should’ve pulled away from him – especially when the band of his arms around her waist tightened – but she didn’t. She liked the feel of his body against hers and wanted to stay in his arms just a moment longer.
    Why not?
    His eyebrows arched in question when she shifted closer, slid her fingers up his arms and wound her arms around his neck. She