A moment later, there was a hand on his shoulder, but before John could stand to give Mary her seat back, she was gracefully sliding against him, planting herself onto the triangle of barstool between his legs.

“Let’s just share,” she suggested over her shoulder, her hair brushing his chin as he leaned down to hear her.

John scooted back an inch on the stool, braced a forearm across the front of her hips and hoisted her more securely against him.

He knew, that with her plush ass firmly planted between his spread legs, there was going to be no hiding how much he wanted her. But, he wondered, what was the alternative? Not having Mary wiggle herself into his lap? Hard pass.

She didn’t protest at having his arm around her waist, so he left it there, reveling when she leaned her weight into him, her back against his chest. He was lost in the slip of her dress off her perfect shoulder. He was wholly engrossed in the mystery of where the hell her bra strap was. Was she wearing some contraption under the pink dress that didn’t require straps? Was she bare? Her shoulder was certainly bare, and it took every ounce of fortitude in John’s being not to nuzzle her there.

She kept the conversation lively with Beth and Richie, and he could feel her voice reverberate through her chest and into him. Every laugh, every movement of her hands pushed her against him until John felt like he might go insane. He was more aroused than he could ever remember being. This erotic dance she was doing against him was so different, so much more intense, than anything he’d ever done on a dance floor. This wasn’t an intentional grinding of two bodies against one another, the promise of a make out in a cab on the frantic ride back to one of their places. No, this was so much more exquisitely torturous than that.

He had the soft scent of her skin filling up every lungful of air he took, the gentle tickle of her hair under his chin, the intoxicating tug of her fingers at the wrist of his sleeve as she absently played with the button there.

Beth and Richie started laughing about something together, and Mary took the opportunity to tip her head back and catch John’s eye. “You’re awfully quiet back there,” she said with a sly smile on her lips.

It hit him all at once. She was doing this on purpose. The little minx! She knew exactly how every minuscule press and lean and jiggle was affecting him.

Well. Two could definitely play that game. He felt his eyelids lower in both competition and satisfaction.

John cleared his throat and adjusted his arm across her hip bones, bringing her infinitesimally closer to him.