All for the Mirrorball

Chapter 27 - Good Boy

Something felt different on the dance floor the next morning. The routine flowed more smoothly, the beats sharper, the energy almost feral.

Now that the basics of the routine were down, Ilona saw just how hot it was. With their added energy, they seemed at risk of burning the place down.

Alan pulled her into a spin, his grip firm and precise as they transitioned seamlessly into the next move. Something burned in his chest as he held her eyes.

She followed his lead effortlessly, her body responding to every shift in his weight, every subtle cue. The connection between them felt electric, like the air between them was charged with something unspoken, something dangerous.

"Sharper arms," Alan's voice was low, focused, but there was an edge to it, a raw intensity that made her pulse quicken. "Think power, not just speed."

Ilona nodded, her jaw tightening as she snapped her arm into place, matching his intensity beat for beat, fire burning in her eyes. The music swelled, urging them to push harder, faster, closer. Alan landed above her in their final pose, chest heaving, eyes locked onto hers like he could see straight into her soul.

His lips curled into a crooked grin. "Whatever you're doing to drive me insane, keep it up." His voice was rough, low, like a caress that sent a shiver straight down her spine.

Ilona sat up, her smirk playful, but dangerous. "Maybe... maybe it's because we didn't sleep together last night."  Her voice dropped to a teasing murmur. "Maybe sexual frustration is the secret ingredient." She laughed lightly, but the glimmer in her eyes dared him to argue.

He raised an eyebrow. "So you're saying we should... abstain?"

"Not necessarily..." She shrugged. "I'm just saying... it's something to think about," she said, crossing her arms defensively. "You can't argue with the results."

Alan groaned, running a hand through his hair with an exasperated grin. "Ilona, you're really going to blame our... extracurricular activities for one not-even-mediocre day? It was day one versus day two - the comparison is unfair. Let's not jump to conclusions." His smile was full of playful disbelief, and she shot him a pointed look.

He was right, though. Day one was always the worst. She decided to ignore the nagging voice in the back of her head - it was annoying, anyway.

They spent the rest of the day completely winding each other up. Ilona's suggestion was quickly forgotten.

—

Ilona barely made it through the door of Alan's place before his hands were on her, pinning her lightly against the wall. His lips found hers, fierce and unrelenting, the kiss a burst of heat, as if the hours apart had been an eternity.

"We don't have much time," Ilona murmured, breathless, as her fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, tugging him closer.

"We've got enough," Alan replied, his voice low, a rasp that made her skin tingle. His hands slid to her waist, lifting her slightly as she wrapped her legs around him, her body aching for the contact.

Somehow, they stumbled to the couch, their movements frantic, uncoordinated. Alan laughed against her mouth as they tumbled onto the cushions. "God, you're perfect."

Her heart squeezed, but she was too wrapped up in him to aknowledge that kind of comment. "Stop wasting time," she shot back, pulling his shirt over his head with a breathless urgency.

—

Fifteen minutes later, they were a little disheveled but undeniably satisfied as they loaded Jeff's bed and toys into Ilona's car.