Foreman's satisfaction increased about ten-fold with Amber's surprised, pleased expression. He'd been right. He nearly wanted to crow about it, but a wide smile would do. Didn't want to make it seem like he was startled when he got the right answer. He felt a surge of pride in himself, and a warm sense of expectation when she repeated her promise. He had a feeling whatever the reward was, she wouldn't be missing out, either. The possibilities were beginning to make their way through his mind and the images were more than pleasant. Foreman had enough self-control that he wouldn't embarrass himself on the dancefloor, but the anticipation felt good, his heart beating a bit faster, and he was very aware of Amber's hand pulling him out to the center of the floor. Her hands slipped up his arms around his shoulders easily, and Foreman let his hands fall to her hips, letting his palms smooth over her blouse to the small of her back before he started moving with her.
He fell into her rhythm easily. Even though he was the one supposedly leading--at least keeping her from bumping into the other dancers--Foreman didn't mind going at Amber's pace, and getting as close as she showed she wanted. Other than as obstacles, he didn't feel like there was anyone else on the dancefloor. He was too busy watching her, the small changes in her expression, the exact shade of her eyes. She was graceful, not stabbing his feet with her heels, but at this point Foreman hadn't expected any differently. He rubbed his thumb against her back and eased his hold on her just a bit lower, to the curve of her hips, and pulled her forward. Her perfume, or her shampoo, was lightly spicy, and Foreman breathed in the scent, glad that it wasn't overwhelmingly floral. She felt good against him, her movements teasing enough to keep the light hint of arousal at the front of his mind, but mostly, it was easy to concentrate on the music and dance.
Foreman had left any thought of work behind when he'd agreed to come here, but now that they were dancing, he felt the weight of all his mistakes easing off his shoulders. They weren't gone, not by a long shot, but he found that at this moment, he didn't care about them at all.
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He fell into her rhythm easily. Even though he was the one supposedly leading--at least keeping her from bumping into the other dancers--Foreman didn't mind going at Amber's pace, and getting as close as she showed she wanted. Other than as obstacles, he didn't feel like there was anyone else on the dancefloor. He was too busy watching her, the small changes in her expression, the exact shade of her eyes. She was graceful, not stabbing his feet with her heels, but at this point Foreman hadn't expected any differently. He rubbed his thumb against her back and eased his hold on her just a bit lower, to the curve of her hips, and pulled her forward. Her perfume, or her shampoo, was lightly spicy, and Foreman breathed in the scent, glad that it wasn't overwhelmingly floral. She felt good against him, her movements teasing enough to keep the light hint of arousal at the front of his mind, but mostly, it was easy to concentrate on the music and dance.
Foreman had left any thought of work behind when he'd agreed to come here, but now that they were dancing, he felt the weight of all his mistakes easing off his shoulders. They weren't gone, not by a long shot, but he found that at this moment, he didn't care about them at all.