Catching Up

A few times during the evening our conversation lulled and I could tell we were both searching for something to say. Mark looked somewhat uneasy and I felt as if he wanted to talk to me about something, but no matter how much I tried I couldn't compel him to share. Eventually I took the hint and began perusing the crowd, much like he was.

A young woman was the first to approach our table. Her gaze shifted briefly over me, and I felt the hairs on the back of my neck rise. She was here for Mark and Mark alone. Her smile was big and bright. Her gaze was full of mischievousness and obvious desire. I leaned back and watched Mark being led out onto the dance floor.

I kept my eyes on him, allowing myself to imagine it was me he was dancing with. It was my hips his hands were resting on, my neck his breath was caressing as he pulled me closer. Yet, there I was sitting at a table, alone, while Mark dance provocatively with the little redhead. I so wanted to be her.

A cough from another club attendee brought my mind back to reality. I turned and eyed the young man who was looking down at me. He was tall and thin, with black hair and dark eyes. He wore a pair of black jeans, a T-shirt and sneakers. His gaze drifted lazily over me and I saw his brows rise in interest. I grinned, and waited for him to ask me to dance. When he did, my pulse raced.

I stood up and together we moved onto the dance floor. It wasn't long before I was in the mood and swaying seductively against the stranger. It also wasn't long before I was bump from behind and almost pushed into the young man's chest.

"Whoa, sorry," a voice reached out to me, grabbing my waist as I tried to regain my footing.

I felt two firm hands on my hips. At first, I thought they were the man's, the one that had asked me to dance. When I looked up, I saw it was Mark. He held me, and stared down into my eyes. I saw the look and knew what he hadn't been able to tell me at the table. My chest tightened as his hands held me more firmly and pulled me toward him.