My heart rate picked up then, and not because I knew Hank’s men had to be close by. Dancing this way with Jev tore down any chance I had at holding my feelings in check. His arms were strong, his body warm. He wasn’t wearing cologne, but there was an intriguing hint of fresh-cut grass and rainwater when he pulled me close. And those eyes. Deep, mysterious, unfathomable. Despite everything, I wanted to lean into him and … just let go.
“Better,” he murmured into my ear.
Before I could respond, he spun me out. I’d never danced like this before, and Jev’s skill at it surprised me. Street dancing I might have guessed, but not this. The way he danced reminded me of another time and place. He was confident and elegant … smooth and sexy.
“Do you think they’re going to buy that a guy in tacky leather chaps dances like this?” I scoffed when he twirled me back into his embrace.
“Keep it up, and I’ll put you in the chaps.” He didn’t smile, but I sensed an undercurrent of amusement. Glad one of us found something about the situation remotely funny.
“How do the trances work? Like a glamour?”
“It’s more complicated than that, but same end result.”
“Could you teach me?”
“If I taught you everything I know, we’d need a considerable amount of time alone together.”
Unsure if he was suggesting anything, I said, “I’m sure we could keep it … professional.”
“Speak for yourself,” he said in that same steady tone that made it hard to guess his intentions.
His hand was on my back, holding me against him, and I realized I was more nervous than I’d originally thought. I found myself wondering if the connection between us had been this electric before. Had being near him always felt like playing with fire? Warm and bright, intense and dangerous?
To keep our conversation from treading further into uncomfortable territory, I laid my head against his chest, even though I knew it wasn’t safe. Nothing about him felt safe. My entire body hummed under his touch, a completely foreign and riveting sensation. The sensible part of me wanted to dissect my emotions, overthinking and overcomplicating my reaction to Jev. But a more physical and immediate part was tired of allowing logic to chase me in circles, constantly wondering about that gap in time, and just like that, I shut off the switch to my brain.
Piece by piece, I let Jev break down my defenses. I swayed and dipped against him, letting him set the rhythm. I was overly warm, my head clogged with smoke, and the moment began to feel unreal, only making it easier to believe that later, if guilt or regret haunted me, I could pretend it never happened. While I was here, trapped in the club, trapped in Jev’s eyes, he made it too easy to succumb.
His mouth grazed my ear. “What are you thinking?”
I closed my eyes briefly, drowning in sensation. How warm I feel. How incredibly alive and vibrant and heedless every last inch of me feels next to you.
His mouth twisted into a perceptive, sexy smile. “Hmm.”
“Hmm?” I looked away, flustered, automatically using irritation to cover my discomfort up. “What does ‘hmm’ have to do with anything? Could you ever use more than five words? All this grunting and minced words make you come across — primal.”
His smile tipped higher. “Primal.”
“You’re impossible.”
“Me Jev, you Nora.”
“Stop it.” But I nearly smiled in spite of myself.
“Since we’re keeping it primal, you smell good,” he observed. He moved closer, making me acutely aware of his size, the rise and fall of his chest, the warm burn of his skin on mine. Electricity tingled along my scalp, and I shuddered with pleasure.
“It’s called a shower …,” I began automatically, then trailed off. My memory snagged, taken aback by a compelling and forceful sense of undue familiarity. “Soap, shampoo, hot water,” I added, almost as an afterthought.
“Naked. I know the drill,” Jev said, something unreadable passing over his eyes.
Unsure how to proceed, I attempted to wash away the moment with an airy laugh. “Are you flirting with me, Jev?”
“Does it feel that way to you?”
“I don’t know you well enough to say either way.” I tried to keep my voice level, neutral even.
“Then we’ll have to change that.”
Still uncertain of his motives, I cleared my throat. Two could play this game. “Running from bad guys together is your idea of playing getting-to-know-you?”
“No. This is.”
He dipped my body backward, drawing me up in a slow arc until he raised me flush against him. In his arms, my joints loosened, my defenses melting as he led me through the sultry steps. His muscles flexed under his clothes, holding me, leading me. Never letting me stray far.
My knees felt rubbery, but not from dancing. My breathing came faster, and I knew I was treading down a slippery slope. Being this close to Jev, skin brushing, legs touching lightly, gazes connecting briefly in the dark, it was all blind sensation and intoxicating heat. A strange jumble of nervous exhilaration, I pulled away, but not too hard.
“I don’t have the body for this,” I quipped, lifting my chin at a voluptuous woman nearby who shook her hips zealously to the beat. “No curves.”
Jev’s eyes held mine. “Are you asking my opinion?”
I flushed. “I asked for that.”
He tipped his head down, his breath warming my skin. His lips grazed my forehead with featherweight pressure. I shut my eyes, trying to hold back the absurd desire for him to move his mouth lower, until it found my own.
“Jev—,” I wanted to say. Only his name didn’t escape. Jev, Jev, Jev, I thought in perfect cadence to my heightened pulse. I repeated his name, a silent request, until it spun me dizzy.
The sliver of air between our mouths was a vivid presence, teasing and tempting. He was so close, my body attuned to his in a way that both frightened and marveled. I waited, leaning into his embrace, my breath light with anticipation.
Suddenly his body grew taut. The spell broke, the gap between us irrevocably widening, and I stepped back.
“We’ve got company,” Jev said.
I tried to pull completely away, but Jev tightened his hold on me, forcing me to keep up the pretense of dancing. “Stay calm,” he murmured, his cheek brushing my forehead. “Remember, if they look at you, they’re going to see blond hair and combat boots. They’re not going to see the real you.”
“Won’t they expect you to tamper with their minds?” I tried to catch a glimpse of the doorway, but several taller men in the crowd blocked me. I couldn’t tell if Hank’s men were advancing or lingering by the doors, watching.
“They didn’t get a good look at me, but they saw me jump from the third floor of the warehouse, which will tell them I’m not human. They’ll be looking for a guy and a girl together, but that could be any number of couples in here.”
“What are they doing now?” I asked, still unable to see past the crowd.
“Having a look around. Dance with me and keep your eyes off the doors. There are four of them. They’re spreading out.” Jev swore. “Two are heading this way. I think we’ve been made. The Black Hand trained them well. I’ve never met a Nephil who could see through a trance within the first year of swearing fealty, but they just might pull it off. Walk toward the bathrooms and take the exit at the end of the hall. Don’t walk too fast, and don’t look back. If anyone tries to stop you, ignore them and keep walking. I’m going to head them off to buy us time. I’ll meet you in the alley in five.”
Jev went one way and I went the other — with my heart in my throat. I elbowed my way through the crowd, the heat of too many bodies and my own nervous adrenaline making my skin moist. I veered into the hallway leading to the bathrooms, which, judging by the rancid smell and the swarm of flies, were anything but sanitary. There was a long line, and I had to edge sideways around each person, muttering a hurried, “Excuse me.”