please let me know if you like it.*
Your eyes scanned the room, checking out every single person. Most of the faces you had seen before. Suddenly, your eyes rested on someone unfamiliar. So unfamiliar you had to frown. So unfamiliar you were sure you had seen him before, not here though, somewhere else, but you couldn't quite make out where.
He seemed to have noticed your stare, because he turned his head and his eyes met yours.
BAM.
A jolt of electricity ran through your veins, speeding up your pulse in a nanosecond. Usually, you were not easily intimated by a man's stare, but with this one it was different.
Quickly, you looked away, pretending to find your friend more interesting, who was still rambling on about the fucked up relationship with her dickhead boyfriend.
It was fairly difficult for you not to look at the guy at the bar. He was wearing a white dress shirt which hugged his muscles perfectly and was a little tight at the chest area. Just your type, you thought.
Tattoos were covering his hands and were peeking out of the pearly white collar. Interesting. He was animatedly talking to a male friend, and whenever he smiled his perfect, shiny teeth would show. It was difficult these days to find a man with such gorgeous teeth.
Thinking about his teeth a little too long proved to you that you should stop drinking. Or slow it down, at least. But, to your defence, you hadn't been in the mood to go out in the first place, so you had to brighten up your mood with wine. More than one glass.
Mister Perfect Teeth, however, would occasionally take a sip of his drink, Whiskey you assumed, and had changed his seating position at the bar to facing the dancefloor properly. It gave you an even better view at his chest muscles and him a better view at you.
Which he enjoyed, apparently. You were now dancing next to your friend, swaying your hips to the Latin dance music the club provided, twerking a little. The object of your desire was watching you while still chatting to his mate, his eyes burning themselves into your mind so intensely it made you uncomfortable. Yet, at the same time, it turned you on so much.
Every time you exchanged a glance with him your heart stopped. Why? You had no clue why. It just happened and you wished he would just come and dance with you.
It went like that for years, you thought, but eventually something changed. Your friend excused herself to the toilet and just as you had nearly given up eye-fucking him, he appeared behind you. The first touch you noticed were his hands on your arms, gentle and modest, just skin brushing against skin. Slowly, to the rhythm of the music, you turned around. He was a couple of inches taller than you, and in close-up he looked even more handsome. You hadn't noticed his lips before. They were full, puffy, almost obscenely beautiful; and the way he looked down on you made your knees tremble. Tremble with uncertainty or excitement you weren't sure, maybe it was a combination of both, like a really good, but dangerous cocktail.
Your bodies moved simultaneously to the music, very close to each other, almost grinding but not quite. The desire to run your hands over his muscled chest was nearly too big to abide, your hands were fidgeting by your sides. Soon they would refuse obeying the instructions of your brain to stay still, stay by your sides. But before that could happen, the man so close to you placed one brave hand of his on your hip, as if he had read your mind, as if he was giving you permission to touch him.
You were thankful it was dark, otherwise you would die from embarrassment because of your flushed cheeks.
Dancing with him like this, the rest of the club was only a blur to you. So, for that matter, the wine in your bloodstream and a sudden rush of adrenaline empowered you to go one step further, to eventually give in to your wish. Both your hands almost automatically rose from your sides to rest comfortably on his toned chest with just a piece of white fabric in between.
He (you should really ask him for his name) seemed to be quite satisfied by the body contact, judging by the slightly different look in his eyes. The way he was now watching you reminded you of a lion watching his prey, watching its next move. You, as the prey, were in turn losing crumbs of confidence with every passing second. This man had some kind of power over you and he knew it. You had to watch out.
YOU ARE READING
J BALVIN IMAGINES
Romancehow can there be so little imagines about this lovely man? This has to change. I'm changing it. I TAKE REQUESTS!!!