As the door swung shut behind her, Ivy paused for a moment to let her eyes adjust to the inky shadows and flashing lights of the club's dance floor. She pushed the strap of her purse further up on her shoulder and reached down to straighten the very short skirt of her dark blue dress. There was a random splash of black sequins all over the dress, making it shimmer on her slender, but well-formed body. Her auburn hair was up in a mass of curls on the top of her head, with little tendrils springing free to frame her fine-boned face. Her blue eyes searched the crowd of dancers before her, but without success.
With a little sigh, she walked around the dance floor and sat down at the bar, half-turning in her seat so that she could continue searching. The bartender, a tall man with black, spiked hair and a myriad of tattoos covering his muscular arms, came over to her and gave her a dazzling smile, and asked if she wanted a drink. She gave a curt shake of her head and proceeded to ignore him and his admiring looks.
For the next quarter hour, she turned down dance after dance and continued to search for her late date, her icy eyes flicked around and around the room, catching and reflecting the flashing white and colored lights.
Finally, after over half an hour, she gave up and prepared to leave, much to the displeasure of the lustful bartender, who had been dismissed time after time trying to sell her drinks.
Opting to walk through the dancers for a more direct route to the exit, she was caught by surprise when someone grasped her wrist and pulled her into a fast spin, catching her by the waist when she stumbled a little. Turning around to glare up at the face of her impromptu partner, she was startled to see that the top half of his face was covered by a black mask. She looked around her in confusion and saw that many of the male dancers around her wore the same mask, as well as the same dark collared shirt, slacks, and loose grey tie that this one did.
He said nothing, only smiled and put a finger to her lips, silencing her questions. At that moment, the song changed to one she recognized; her eyes widened. She was a professional alternative dancer, and she knew this song's choreography was difficult and intricate, with lots of changes in tempo and intensity. After all, she had been the official choreographer for this song at the last performance her crew had done. Nevertheless, she watched as all the dancers except her, her partner, the other men with masks and their partners cleared off the floor.
'Do they know who I am?' she wondered. Her suspicions were confirmed when her partner leaned his head down to whisper in her ear, "welcome, Miss Ivy." It was the voice of her missing date, she realized, and she looked up quickly. Now she recognized him under the mask, and her eyes darkened in anger.
But before she could say a word, she heard their first cue and gasped a little as her partner grabbed her hands and began to dance. She had no choice but to follow along with the dance for now, realizing that to make a scene would only grant her unwanted attention.
As the song sped up in tempo, the pair whirled and spun, performing complicated footwork with dramatic precision. Ivy couldn't help but be a little impressed by the obvious skill of her partner. When he'd told her to meet here, she hadn't known he could dance like this…
The beat in the song slowed and the dancers stopped their mad cavorting in favor of a more smooth, flowing rhythm. Masculine hands went around slim waists as slender hands rose to caress the faces just over their shoulders at an agonizingly slow speed. Then, as one, the female dancers broke away from their partners and stood, looking and reaching toward their men with one hand, wistful expressions on their faces. The men stood, feet widespread, arms crossed, glaring through their masks as the music ceased momentarily. When it began again, a low bass beat thrummed through the floor and each female dancer came to life, running into their partners' waiting arms.
Ivy was breathing hard now, and she winced slightly as her partner's hands grasped her waist and lifted her into the air, catching her again and setting her gently down in a well-coordinated movement. The song was almost over – just one more slow section. Her anger had slowly faded as she'd gotten further into the dance; dancing never failed to calm her emotions and put her in a state of dreamy unreality. She wasn't angry at him anymore, but content to dance for a little while longer before the song ended and they had to return to cold reality.
For the last time, the tempo slowed and the lyrics flowed into a beautiful piano version of the melody. Partner facing partner, eye to eye, the dancers stood, frozen in various poses. Ivy had her right hand in the center of her man's chest, arm straight as an arrow, and the other arm held in his loose grasp high above her head. His other hand held her waist and as they gazed into each other's eyes, he began running his hand up and then down her ribcage until he was grasping her firm ass. Before she could react, however, they heard their last cue and he pulled her into a tight embrace, hip to hip, eye to eye, arms tightly around each other and her right leg lifted to hug him, their faces only inches away from each other.
The crowd watching erupted into raucous cheers at the amazing skill displayed before them and mobbed the dance floor as another song began blasting the room with sound.
Ivy didn't notice. Her leg slowly fell till she was standing on both feet again. But before she could let the rest of her pose go, he bent his head the rest of the way and kissed her full mouth. Still in her daze of happiness from the rush dancing like that always gave her, she kissed him back, their eyes closing in pleasure.
His tongue teased a corner of her mouth and she eagerly let him in, their tongues tangling as the kiss deepened. He held her tighter and began to grind his hips with hers in time to the new music. New sensations began to ripple through their bodies in every hotter waves as the lights flashed and the bodies around them twisted and writhed.
Finally, the need for air broke them apart, and they looked at each other, breathing hard. A slow smile lifted the corners of Ivy's mouth, and she took his hand, leading him off the dance floor and into a vacant corner of the room where the shadows were at their deepest.
Zach grinned and pushed her up against the wall before bending his head to kiss and nibble up and down her neck. Her arms went around his neck and she sighed in pleasure. He kissed down her jaw and her chin, pausing for a moment before kissing her mouth again, and pressing himself against her as he did. He gave a little grunt in pleasure as their hips collided, and she gasped softly when he reached up to caress one of her breasts.
"Your place or mine?" he whispered in her ear before giving it a lick and a nibble. His voice was rough, raw, and thick with lust. Ivy shivered and smiled, whispering back, "yours."
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<a href="https://www.lushstories.com/stories/love-stories/club-night.aspx">Club Night</a>