Sliding Teaser #2
Warning: This Teaser has a little heat to it!
I step out of the elevator and I open the doors to the main ballroom to find it looking exactly like the school gym did that first night I danced with Tate. “Little Red Corvette”, the first song we danced to comes on and there is Tate all of a sudden walking towards me wearing a black t-shirt under a black jacket with the sleeves pulled up his forearms. He looks exactly like he did twenty five years ago only hotter if that’s possible. He now has strong muscular forearms and his black t-shirt is stretched tight across his sizeable chest. His black silky hair is longer than it was when he left Connecticut six months ago and his face has two day old stubble on it that gives him his trademark bad boy sexiness. He walks up to me with that strut he has never lost and asks me to dance. We stand there swaying with each other like we did that first night. And this time, all I can think is that I have choreographed music videos for some of the most talented dancers in the industry, I have won awards for Super Bowl Half Time shows, I have worked on the Broadway stage and numerous award shows and here I am “swaying” with Tate Taylor again.
Tate smirks at me because he can read my mind, he mouths, “I missed you” then his smirk turns into a smile.
“Tate, we need to…”
Tate cuts me off and says, “Not now, I haven’t set eyes on you in six months, let me just enjoy looking at you for a while. We’ll talk tomorrow; I have a few surprises for you today first.”
At that I hear the music. Tate pulls me into his arms and we start to dance with each other, holding each other close. Tate takes me by both of my hands, stretches us apart so we can see each other and he mouths the words to Coldplay’s “The Scientist” to me as if they are coming from him, from his heart and soul. Then in one smooth move Tate slides behind me and lifts my right arm into the air with his right hand while he holds my left hip with his left hand. He presses his body against me and I can feel his growing erection pressing into me while in my ear he whispers, “He missed you too!”
He runs his pointer finger from my right hand, down my right arm and down the right side of my body while still holding my left hip in his tightening grip. As he reaches my toned thigh he changes direction and works his hand up pulling, my dress with it. He lifts it up my leg just a little so he can feel the touch of my bare skin with his palm. As he does this he quietly moans in my ear. He brushes my hair off my neck and I instinctively tilt my head to the side giving him full access to one of my favorite sweet spots. He licks my neck slightly then pulls on my earlobe with his teeth. He is bringing me right to the edge of a cliff I have not toppled off of in six months and my body is begging for this sweet push that only Tate has ever given me. He can sense my arousal and turns me around to face him as the song finishes with Tate now singing along completely out of key. I don’t care that Tate is out of key because all I can hear is the meaning in those words. I am finally able to catch my breath when the music changes and Tate asks me to dance with him for a while.
We slow dance clinging to one another to songs from our childhood, I try to talk but he covers my lips with his finger and whispers, “Shh baby, later, tomorrow, let’s just have today like this, like it used to be, back to the start.”
Tate never tries to kiss me; he just alternates between holding me close and holding me at arm’s length to look at my face. After a while the music shifts gears and we start laughing and dancing with each other to our favorites from our college days. We dance like this for an hour and I have never had more fun. We dance like teenagers grinding up on each other and I know he’s feeling as much frustration as I am.
When the playlist finally ends we are sweaty and breathing heavy, more from the grinding than from the exertion of dancing so Tate takes me by the hand and leads me out of the ballroom with one line, “Time to slide baby.”
Kitty Berry
I step out of the elevator and I open the doors to the main ballroom to find it looking exactly like the school gym did that first night I danced with Tate. “Little Red Corvette”, the first song we danced to comes on and there is Tate all of a sudden walking towards me wearing a black t-shirt under a black jacket with the sleeves pulled up his forearms. He looks exactly like he did twenty five years ago only hotter if that’s possible. He now has strong muscular forearms and his black t-shirt is stretched tight across his sizeable chest. His black silky hair is longer than it was when he left Connecticut six months ago and his face has two day old stubble on it that gives him his trademark bad boy sexiness. He walks up to me with that strut he has never lost and asks me to dance. We stand there swaying with each other like we did that first night. And this time, all I can think is that I have choreographed music videos for some of the most talented dancers in the industry, I have won awards for Super Bowl Half Time shows, I have worked on the Broadway stage and numerous award shows and here I am “swaying” with Tate Taylor again.
Tate smirks at me because he can read my mind, he mouths, “I missed you” then his smirk turns into a smile.
“Tate, we need to…”
Tate cuts me off and says, “Not now, I haven’t set eyes on you in six months, let me just enjoy looking at you for a while. We’ll talk tomorrow; I have a few surprises for you today first.”
At that I hear the music. Tate pulls me into his arms and we start to dance with each other, holding each other close. Tate takes me by both of my hands, stretches us apart so we can see each other and he mouths the words to Coldplay’s “The Scientist” to me as if they are coming from him, from his heart and soul. Then in one smooth move Tate slides behind me and lifts my right arm into the air with his right hand while he holds my left hip with his left hand. He presses his body against me and I can feel his growing erection pressing into me while in my ear he whispers, “He missed you too!”
He runs his pointer finger from my right hand, down my right arm and down the right side of my body while still holding my left hip in his tightening grip. As he reaches my toned thigh he changes direction and works his hand up pulling, my dress with it. He lifts it up my leg just a little so he can feel the touch of my bare skin with his palm. As he does this he quietly moans in my ear. He brushes my hair off my neck and I instinctively tilt my head to the side giving him full access to one of my favorite sweet spots. He licks my neck slightly then pulls on my earlobe with his teeth. He is bringing me right to the edge of a cliff I have not toppled off of in six months and my body is begging for this sweet push that only Tate has ever given me. He can sense my arousal and turns me around to face him as the song finishes with Tate now singing along completely out of key. I don’t care that Tate is out of key because all I can hear is the meaning in those words. I am finally able to catch my breath when the music changes and Tate asks me to dance with him for a while.
We slow dance clinging to one another to songs from our childhood, I try to talk but he covers my lips with his finger and whispers, “Shh baby, later, tomorrow, let’s just have today like this, like it used to be, back to the start.”
Tate never tries to kiss me; he just alternates between holding me close and holding me at arm’s length to look at my face. After a while the music shifts gears and we start laughing and dancing with each other to our favorites from our college days. We dance like this for an hour and I have never had more fun. We dance like teenagers grinding up on each other and I know he’s feeling as much frustration as I am.
When the playlist finally ends we are sweaty and breathing heavy, more from the grinding than from the exertion of dancing so Tate takes me by the hand and leads me out of the ballroom with one line, “Time to slide baby.”
Kitty Berry
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