Total pages in book: 65
Estimated words: 62972 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 315(@200wpm)___ 252(@250wpm)___ 210(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 62972 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 315(@200wpm)___ 252(@250wpm)___ 210(@300wpm)
He grins. “You’re asking a football player if he wants to eat? I just had dinner—as you know, since you ran away from me—but lead the way, my lady.”
He gives me his arm and I take it.
We make our way over to the table, which is stocked with dishes that have little placards next to each one, naming the contents. I take in the marinated olives, fancy cheeses, fried plantains, and flan.
“Wow. If I had known all this was here, I might have tried this a lot sooner,” I say.
Maverick picks up a ramekin of flan and hands me one. “Let’s try this.”
He gets his own and we each take a bite at the same time, our eyes closing in simultaneous ecstasy.
“Damn, that’s good,” he says, his eyes on my face instead of the caramel pastry.
“It is,” I reply as I watch him savor the bite.
I’m relieved when the instructor claps his hands and motions for us to move to the center of the room.
Disposing of our dishes, we follow his directions.
Ricardo’s eyes widen as he takes Maverick in and then he looks at me, a little smile on his face. “I see you found a partner after all, Miss Shaw. Nice choice.”
“Indeed,” I say.
Maverick smirks and shrugs.
Ricardo goes on to explain that the salsa attitude comes from the music, the dance is something you feel with your body, and at the same time, your brain can memorize the mechanics of the eight-count method. He’s enthusiastic as he runs through the steps around the circle we’re standing in. I try to pay attention but it’s difficult with Maverick standing next to me, our arms brushing against one another.
“First, we must start with the embrace,” Ricardo says, pulling on the arm of a tiny woman in a matching red dress who I assume is his partner. He pulls her close with a twirling motion and stares deep into her eyes. “You hold them with intense emotion. You’re going on a journey of love and you must convey this in your every movement, in your eyes, in the sensuality of your muscles as you hold your partner tight.”
I need a fan just from his words. Ricardo is quite the romantic.
He demonstrates by leaning in and putting his left hand on her shoulder. He hugs her tight then wraps his right arm around her lower back, centering it above her ass. His partner then raises her right hand to mirror his movements.
“Keep your head high, your spine straight, your core strong, and your chest lifted. Ooze confidence, my loves!” Ricardo demonstrates with a sliding movement of his feet as he twirls his partner around. “Move forward with your left foot, then forward with your right, forward with the left, then the right. Then, feet together, moving left to meet right. Tada! That’s it, and repeat!” He stops and takes a little bow along with his partner who, of course, mirrored his movements while moving backward. He claps his hands. “Now, let’s partner up and hold each other with deep sensuality.”
Sensuality?
I turn to face Maverick, a small laugh escaping me. “Are you as uncomfortable as I am right now?”
“I don’t have a clue what the hell he just did out there.” He grins in a self-deprecating way, a spot of pink on his cheeks.
“Does that embarrass you? That you can’t do everything?”
“No, but I do want to make a good impression on you.”
My heart does a somersault.
“Why?”
He ignores that comment and pulls me into his arms, his left hand on my shoulder and his right going to the base of my spine. Goose bumps rise on my arms as he tugs me in closer. “Put your arms around me.”
I do, my mouth completely dry, my body in tune and ready to catch fire as his chest grazes against me and his leg fits smoothly between mine. Heat engulfs my lower regions and I ignore it by staring at his chin. I can’t bring myself to look into those eyes.
“I’d do anything for some people—you’ll figure that out about me,” Maverick says softly, and suddenly it feels as if we’re all alone and not in a crowded studio surrounded by people.
“So I’m one of those people? We barely know each other.”
A bit of a laugh comes from him as our eyes meet. “You pretend like you don’t know me, Delaney, but there’s something between us.”
I bite my lip and stammer out, “I have no idea what you’re talking about. Plus, I don’t like football players.”
“So you keep saying, yet here we are…dancing.”
“You offered, and I didn’t have anyone else.”
He laughs. “You love being in my arms and you know it.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “You’re so freaking infuriating.”
He just shrugs.
“I’m not changing my mind.”
He leans in and whispers in my ear. “Your body already says yes.”