Chasing His Kickass Luna Back

#Chapter 27: Dancing the Night Away

The kitchen doors swing open, and I pull my hand away from Karl’s. It’s Ethan.

I don’t know why I feel like I’ve been caught doing something I shouldn’t. Ethan doesn’t seem to notice

as he crosses the room and picks up the cup. NôvelDrama.Org is the owner.

“Thanks,” he says, his voice sounding groggy. “I really needed this.”

He heads for the office, and I look back at Karl, deciding that it’s best if we just pretend that what just

happened between us never happened at all. “You’ll be doing the same as yesterday. Besides, there is

no need for such closeness between employee and boss,” I say coldly, restraining my desire to be

close to him.

He nods and walks away, his shoulders slightly tense. I watch him go for a moment before I force

myself to turn away. It’s a good thing that Ethan walked in, I think.

I have to get the passion back with Adam as soon as possible, just like Leah said.

The next day, Adam picks me up at my apartment, and we take a taxi to a local hotel. “Would you like

to dance, or would you like a drink first?” Adam asks, leaning down to talk in my ear.

I grin. “Dance. Then drinks. Then more dancing.”

He returns my smile and leads me out onto the dance floor. He spins me around and I can’t help my

giddy laugh. I’ve always loved to dance. Even though I’m not particularly good at it, I find it so freeing.

It’s one of those things I’ve always done just for the pure enjoyment of it.

Adam pulls me close, and we sway together. He smells good, like sandalwood and a bit like my

strawberry shampoo, which he must have used when we were getting ready earlier. He’s dressed in a

well-cut black suit, with shiny black dress shoes and a crisp white shirt. I’m not the only one who’s

noticed how great he looks. Several women have turned to look at him.

So why don’t I feel anything when our bodies are pressed so close together?

I should want to drag him home and tear his clothes off. He did all this for me, set all of this up the

second I told him I wanted to go on a date, and he’s especially handsome tonight as well. He’s a great

kisser and a much better dancer than me. I twirl away from him and then he pulls me back against his

chest, swaying our hips.

He loves food. He works in the restaurant business. He’s kind, fun and he genuinely cares about me.

Taking all of that into account, he should be the perfect man for me.

But the one thing lacking is our sex life.

There’s just no intense, all-consuming passion between us. Sure, it’s fine. He certainly knows what he’s

doing, but it’s the same every time. Is it wrong to expect fireworks? Is sex like that even necessary for a

loving, fulfilling relationship, or have movies and the media just fed me lies my entire life?

Honestly, though, I’m starting to worry that sex really is important to me, and I don’t know how to fix it.

“What are you thinking about?” he says in my ear, his lips dragging down my neck.

I shudder and part my lips. “I was just listening to the music.”

He kisses my shoulder and drags his hand down my hip. My back is still pressed to his broad chest,

and we’re swaying, slightly off-beat, to the song.

“Hmm,” he murmurs into my neck.

I tilt my head to the side, and he kisses me. Already this is better than normal. The heat settles around

me, and I can hear my harsh breaths even with the loud music. A distant part of me wonders if our

display should embarrass me, but a quick glance at the room shows that we’re not the only people

dancing like this. Shifters aren’t so embarrassed by public displays of affection.

He spins me back around and kisses me. I lean closer and deepen the kiss. He drags his hands up my

sides and smiles against my mouth. Heat gathers in my stomach, moving lower. Maybe this is what I

needed.

I pull away slightly and he spins me around. When he pulls me back toward him, my eyes land on a girl

dancing nearby. Her dark hair falls in waves around her shoulders, and she’s wearing a classy shirt and

dress combo, with a strapless top and a flowing skirt. My muscles tense as her eyes lift to meet mine.

She smiles, though there’s no light in her eyes, and moves closer. “Abby, I didn't expect to see you

here.” I can tell by her tone that she would rather she didn’t. And I wish she didn’t, too.

“Tiffany. Hi.”

Adam turns to her and smiles, holding out his hand. “Hi. I’m Adam.” He must think we’re friends or

something.

She eyes Adam’s hand, then turns back to me. He gives me a look and wraps his arm around my

waist. I guess he’s finally picking up on the tension between us. He looks back and forth between

Tiffany and me, his brows pulling together.

“Is Karl here?” I ask, unable to stop myself. I didn’t feel his heavy presence, but it’s possible I was too

distracted by Adam. “No,” she says, crossing her arms.

“Oh.”

“Are you a friend of Karl’s?” Adam asks, his tone carefully neutral.

“I’m his cousin.”

“Oh.”

His gaze slides to mine, but I force myself to focus on Tiffany. She’s looking at Adam like she wants to

tear into him with her claws. I feel a protective urge flow through me, and I move slightly so my back is

to Adam’s chest again. He tightens his hold on me.

“Well, have a good night and everything,” I say.

She frowns. “Careful,” she says, her gaze sliding to Adam. “This one isn’t known for her loyalty.”

“Excuse me? ” I exclaim.