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her touch gave Maya pause. She glanced at their joined hands as though it could be the start of something, before she pulled herself together. They were going to dance together. That was the only thing it would be the start of. “I’ll move my left foot backward while you move your right one forward. All right?”

“Are you being the man?” Quinn asked, an inevitable grin on her lips.

“I’m leading,” Maya said. “Those two things might have meant the same thing once but not anymore. I’ve taught plenty of same-sex couples.”

“Lead away,” Quinn said. “I don’t mind one bit.”

Maya raised their hands and put her other hand on Quinn’s hip. “Put your left hand on my shoulder.” As she watched Quinn do so, she realized how expertly Quinn had played her. Was this what she had wanted all along? “Beginners keep their distance,” Maya said in her stern teacher voice. Despite the small gap between their bodies, Quinn’s hand on her shoulder felt hot against Maya’s skin.

“Good thing I’m a natural,” Quinn said in a surprisingly husky tone.

“Listen to the music.” Maya ignored her quip. An interlude of dancing would snap her right out it—and would show Quinn who was in charge, even if it was only for a few minutes of this entire evening. Maya counted them down again.

It took them a few beats to slip into the same rhythm, but again Maya was surprised how swiftly Quinn got the hang of it. Maybe she really was a natural. Maya could hardly credit her own teaching skills as she’d barely done anything. She’d just danced for Quinn. And now she was dancing with Quinn and it was exhilarating to move to the music with someone else. To do it together. To hear the same beat and move their feet at the same time, as though their bodies were one. Oops. Inadvertently, Maya’s hips had inched closer toward Quinn’s, and her body heat radiated onto Maya’s.

Oh, what the hell. Maya broke the very rule she’d just set of keeping their distance and touched her hips against Quinn’s. It was simply much more pleasant to dance like this. The push and pull of someone else’s hips as they brushed against hers was one of the ingredients that made the salsa so irresistible.

Maya had danced with plenty of women, having few qualms about touching them in this way, but with Quinn, like so many other things, it was different. It was more intense and subject to all sorts of innuendo. Even though Maya was leading the dance—and Quinn was doing a more than admirable job following her lead—and she should be feeling in charge, she didn’t.

It wasn’t just Quinn’s hips pushing against hers when she moved toward her. Quinn’s fingers dug gently into the flesh of her shoulder. Her other hand curled delicately around Maya’s. Most of all, it was how Quinn, unlike most beginners, didn’t feel any need to look down at her feet. Instead, she gazed deep into Maya’s eyes and she found it impossible to look away.

“This is not your first salsa, is it?” she asked.

“It’s my first one with you,” Quinn replied. She grinned again, but softer this time. “You are such a gorgeous woman, Maya, but when you dance, you are absolutely exquisite.”

Heat flushed Maya’s cheeks. She should just say a simple thank you. After all, she had heard something along those lines a million times before. But when Quinn said it like that, it meant something entirely different. It wasn’t just a compliment. It was a come-on. Maya’s throat had gone so dry, she barely managed to scrape the word “Thanks” from it.

“You’re very welcome.” Quinn slowed their pace until their salsa turned into more of a slow dance. Their hips were still firmly pressed together.

Maya’s body throbbed to the beat of the music, a beat they were no longer following. The next song came on and Maya was so entranced by Quinn’s gaze, by the feel of her naked belly pushing against her, that she didn’t even recognize it. This was the moment Maya needed to pull herself together and draw a clear line in the sand. If she let Quinn cross the next boundary, she had no idea where it would end. But how could she do that when she was enjoying this so much? Their feet had stopped moving in the salsa pattern. Their hips were swaying, not an inch of space between them.

Quinn drew a line with her fingers from Maya’s shoulder, from where her hand had been earlier, over her clavicle, to her neck. Her thumb swept over Maya’s jaw. Oh god, what was she doing? She brought her thumb to Maya’s chin, hooked a finger underneath, and pulled Maya toward her.

“Quinn,” Maya whispered, but her protest was so feeble, Maya didn’t think Quinn had even heard her. And if she had, Maya saying her name like that might have easily been mistaken for encouragement.

Maya’s pulse soared beneath her skin. Her heart slammed against her rib cage. She knew she shouldn’t be doing this—she shouldn’t allow Quinn to bridge the small gap between their lips—but that awareness wasn’t nearly enough to stop herself. Still, she was the older one, so she should also be the wiser one. But who was she kidding? Maya had let this happen. She’d somehow fooled herself into thinking she would be able to stop it when it came down to it—if it ever did—but that was like being invited onto the dance floor by the most gorgeous dance partner only to be denied the actual dance.

Quinn’s hand had descended to Maya’s neck where it lay gently against her skin. Quinn looked at her, her face expressing nothing but desire to kiss Maya. Her lips were slightly parted. Her beautiful blue eyes narrowed. It looked as though she was waiting for something. As if she was leaving it up to Maya whether they would kiss or not—whether this would end right there and then or not.

Maya flicked

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