Kara moved sinuously in front of him. Her jean skirt was riding low, her cropped tank top not quite indecent when she reached back and dragged her nails over the skin of Karl's neck. He bent his head. “Ten o’clock. Blue shirt. Hasn’t taken his eyes off you in over ten minutes.”
“Mmm. I noticed. Touch me.”
He skimmed his hands down her arms to her sides, slowing over the outer curves of her breasts, down her ribs to the soft skin of her abdomen. He teased her with his fingertips, and Kara leaned back into him, her eyes closed. He rubbed his cheek on hers. “I think he’d like to take me outside to have a word.” Karl felt her smile.
“I’d like to take him outside for something, but talking isn’t what I have in mind.”
“Are we having a fight, or just two people who met on the dance floor?”
She turned her cheek toward his chest. “I don’t feel like fighting tonight.”
“I’ve got the keys. I’ll hang around until I see you leave.” Karl put his arms around her, then spun her out and back in slowly.
She glanced behind him and grinned up at him. “Brunette. Your six. I think she could be convinced to dance. Don’t wait up.” She ran her finger up his chest and under his chin, then sauntered away.
He watched for a minute, and made a slow turn to scan the edges of the dance floor. When he spotted the brunette, he raised a brow, and smiled when she danced out onto the floor toward him. The night was looking up.