smiled at her, so what?
Her anxiety eased as Murphy stroked his hand down her stiff spine. The throbbing in her head lessened. Euphoria returned in a dizzying burst as the seductive music droned on, and Murphy’s hand connected with the bare flesh of her lower back. Her T-shirt had ridden up, but for the life of her she couldn’t dredge up her usual modesty. She felt at ease with her sexuality. Safe.
Oh, no.
“Are you gay?”
He regarded her with an amused expression. “No.”
She sighed. “Oh, good. I mean …”
Be adventurous.
“So then what
are
you doing here?” she repeated, slipping her hands beneath his shirt.
Something flashed in his dark eyes. Censure? Pleasure? “Watching you.”
The husky declaration zapped her like a lightning bolt, feeding her boldness. She slid her palms higher, marveling at his exquisite physique. His magnificent back muscles tensed beneath her touch, and she almost pulled away. Sofie’s words spurred her on. Adventurous meant throwing caution to the wind, to indulge in a fantasy. She wanted to dance dirty. Really dirty. She wanted to cast away her inhibitions and to experience a spontaneous, sensual moment. With Murphy. She closed her eyes and, just like that, she was Baby and he was Johnny Castle—she did have an amazing imagination after all. Her senses tingled as she straddled her partner’s thigh and indulged in a slow grind.
Desire, hot and intense, simmered in her belly.
She burned.
Murphy gripped her hips and swore beneath his breath. “You’re putting me through the wringer tonight, Princess.”
“I am?” Excitement buzzed through her veins. Was it possible? Was he as turned on as she was? She hadn’t been this aroused since … actually she’d never been this aroused. She felt strangely disconnected, unleashed. She continued to grind against him and risked his gaze. “Have you ever had sex in a coat closet?”
He searched her eyes, groaned. “You need some fresh air.” He practically carried her off the floor.
Was that the dating code for “Let’s go some place private?” Giddy at the prospect of jumping this man’s bones, she tried to remember Sofie’s rules for a one-night-stand. Oh, right. “Do you have a condom?”
“Do we know you?” Scowling, Jean-Pierre stepped directly into Murphy’s path. Rudy loomed beside him, his bulked-up arms folded over his massive chest. They looked ready to kick some bodyguard butt. Gosh, that was sweet.
“He’s gay,” she blurted. They wouldn’t hassle him if they thought he was a member of their church. They wouldn’t see him as a threat.
“He’s not gay,” Rudy said.
“Bi?” Lulu tried.
Jean-Pierre snorted.
“Fine,” she snapped, her headache returning with blinding force. She’d never understood that whole gaydar thing, but obviously Murphy blipped STRAIGHT on her friends’ internal screens. “He wandered over from Flying Monkeys and picked me up. If you must know, we were stepping out to have sex.”
Her friends gawked.
Her vision blurred. Had that come out of
her
mouth? Her eye twitched madly as she endured a sudden wave of nausea. “Can I take a rain check?” she asked Murphy. “I think I’m coming down with something.”
He held her steady, stroked her back like Viv used to do when she had the flu and had her head stuck in the toilet bowl. “Is she hypersensitive to drugs?” he asked Rudy.
“Midol makes her loopy.”
“Hell,” Murphy grumbled.
And with that she lurched forward and threw up on her fantasy lover’s shoes.
Chapter Seven
Murphy had known the moment something was amiss. Lulu had spent the early part of the evening sitting at her table, sipping her soda, leaving once to visit the ladies room. Thirty-minutes later and she was the life of the party. Her excessive energy and provocative dancing had given him a heads-up and a hard-on. No doubt her “admirer” had been equally aroused, the sick bastard.
Given her behavior and the symptomatic side effects,