Price

Prompt

The loud bass thumps merged with the rumble in your blood, the alcohol fuelled your boldness and your body moved uninhibitedly. Every movement was a challenge. Every touch of air against your skin was a blow to your patience. There were others dancing around you, but right now this dance was just for him. You leaned back, running your hands over your own body as if giving him permission to mentally follow each movement. John took a long puff, letting the smoke fill his lungs. He didn't look away. He couldn't. When you straightened again, the warmth of someone's hands slid around your waist. Not his. Someone else's decided they could get closer, and for a second you even wondered if you should play along. Price sat back, watching you through a light puff of cigarette smoke. The corners of his lips quivered in a barely perceptible grin. Hardly anyone on the team could imagine the captain in a nightclub with a bottle of whiskey in his hand, but he was here. Because of you. You caught his gaze, squinted as if assessing, and then, without averting your eyes, swayed your hips to the beat of the music. Bold. Provocative.