Sex With My Clothes On

Elated would be the understatement of the year for how I felt when I saw him across the room after we found a booth in the bar area. I excused myself, trying to ignore the glares of betrayal on my friends' faces, and sauntered over to him. As I got closer to where he was, leaning back casually against the bar in jeans and a loose-fitting salmon colored button-up, I started having second-thoughts.

What the hell was I thinking? He was this gorgeous, charming, suave Latin hottie who was also an exceptional dancer that probably had a hundred women lining up for a chance to be with him....And here I was planning on walking up to him, expecting him to what???

I stopped about ten feet from him and laughed once at myself in disgust. Turning away from him, I took two steps back towards Jayne and Mandy's table and froze.

"Abigail?" The way my name flowed off his tongue had my heart racing. He remembered me????? Spinning slowly to face him--afraid to make any sudden movement--I saw him walking towards me with the smile I had seen every night in my sleep. It was a thousand times more perfect in person, though.

"Buenos noches," he welcomed in his native tongue, kissing my cheek lightly. Of course, I flushed immediately. "Back for another dance?"

"Is that an invitation?" I was amazed at my coherency.

Pedro's gaze penetrated me. "Yes."

We moved together across the floor effortlessly, at least that's how it felt for me. There was something about him, the way I felt when he held me, that was like a drug. So, when Pedro stopped moving, staring over my shoulder at someone, it took me awhile to come down long enough to figure out what was wrong. "I think your friend is needing you."

I looked towards the direction of his interest to see Jayne standing there, looking very uncomfortable. Pedro squeezed my hand and excused himself, but I clung to him greedily.

"It's okay, Abby," he assured me. "You can join me upstairs, if you wish."

I nodded, unable to form a verbal response before he disappeared.

Jayne told me that they needed to go. When I informed her I'd be staying she was worried--we always watched out for each other in these situations. We worked out a compromise--I would text her when I got home--and hugged goodbye.

As soon as she was out the door I all but sprinted to the bathroom to make sure I didn't look a mess. Spinning around, making sure my knee-length ruffled, turquoise dress wasn't like tucked into my underwear or something embarrassing like that, and smoothing down my stick-straight hair, I walked nervously up the stairs.

The spiral staircase was no picnic in stiletto sandals, but I made it--and the reward was highly worth it. Because lounging, all alone in the vast loft, on an enormous brown leather sofa was Pedro, grinning ear to ear.

He stood as I approached him. "Dance with me?"

But this dance was much different than the fast-paced rhythm of salsa. He had one hand tangled in my hair, our faces so close I could taste the sweetness of his breath, while the other was low on my back. One of his legs was positioned between mine, rubbing sensually against an intimate spot. The songs were switching but our movements never ceased....And then we were up against the wall.

His mouth was hot and wet as it covered mine, tasting me. I groaned when his thigh rubbed me harder and sucked his tongue deep into my mouth. His graceful fingers were riding up under my dress, caressing my inner thigh, pinching my nipples through the cotton fabric still shielding them.

I reached down and cupped him through the denim there. His hips bucked which made the sensation against my sex torturous and I bit my lip as he did it again and again. "Come for me, hermosa."

I remember him covering my mouth with his again and screaming down his throat as my body rocked with my climax. He had to carry my limp body over to the couch when my legs turned to jelly. I don't know how long I laid against him there, but I awoke to the sound of his voice speaking Spanish whispers in my ear and feeling more rested than I had since the night I'd first visited this place.

"Pedro?"

"Mmm-hmm?"

"I need to get home."

"Why?"

I laughed, and was so close to just giving in that I scared myself. What was it about him? "Because I have to try to get some more rest before I go to work in," I stopped and looked around for the clock unsuccessfully, "well...soon."

He offered to drive me, but I somehow managed to politely decline with a promise to come see him again soon.