Sans Dancing Novels & Stories

Anaisse Santini's POV There’s no way on God’s green earth I’m going to dance naked in front of a bunch of strangers. Anaisse Santini’s own words came back to haunt her as she stood in the darkened stage wing at Phoenix, the strip joint…er…gentlemen’s club, where her twin sister, Annabelle, usually worked as a featured dancer. Until she broke her leg, anyway.

She clung to the wall while the boss stood up from the bed majestically, his eyes dainted at Elena who was already in tears. The boss tapped on his phone, and suddenly, hip hop music began to fill the room. Elena’s eyes widened in surprise as she tried to comprehend what was happening. “Dance, Puppy, Dance,” the boss smirked, a command laced with authority. “Dance?” Elena whispered, her hands still instinctively clasped around herself, taken aback by the unexpected demand. “Yes. You embarrassed me by refusing to dance with me at the club. Now, you’ll dance until your legs can't carry you anymore,” the boss declared, stepping closer to Elena. She recoiled against the wall, as if attempting to

with the song stopping sher walking back to him as Dalise excused herself to dance with an excuberent new patner, one of nates training patners she thought . Swaying to the new song slighty she came to a halt infront of him turned her back towards him breathed deeply and said fuck it. Then really started moving telling herself she was alone in her room doing some dancing for her warm up before she exercised and not in a crowded living room and definitely not infront of Nate king

At a table near the wall, a woman was dancing on top of a plastic chair. Two of her friends cheered. In another corner, a couple was arguing while still holding their drinks, an admirable level of emotional efficiency. Someone dropped a glass. The shards were immediately kicked under a table by a server who didn’t even look back. I set my empty glass on the bar. Nicolás held out his hand. “Dance?” I looked at his hand. Clean. No ring. No bloodstains. No expensive watch that could buy a small apartment. No murderous aura.

Nicoli frowns. “Dances,” I reply. “Dances?” Nicoli raises a brow. “What’s strange about a dance?” “Well, in Nochten, we don’t do balls,” I lift my eyes to the ceiling to see it is also domed.!“We don’t dance. Either.” I can hear my voice still echo despite how low I whisper. “You don’t dance? Come on.” Nicoli scuffs. “Stop lying. Everyone dances.” “No. We don't.” “Really?” Nicoli is now the one to look at me like I’ve grown an extra head. “Why?”

“This place is strange.” “Yes.” “No one looks relaxed.” “Maybe we should go to the dance floor, teach them to live a little.” “That I can do.” Nadia downs her glass, pulling both of us to the dance floor. Even though the song isn't upbeat, we dance like it is. The DJ eventually gets the memo and switches to something that gets us dancing. I'm swaying slightly till Doja’s Say So comes up, then my dress is very on theme. Unable to help myself, I shake my head a little harder, move a little wilder and because Doja always brings out the worst and best parts of me when I feel a hand on my waist I don't push it away.

It is clear just from looking at him, even in his suit, you can see that. His arm extends, his hand facing up. Anais gently places hers in his hand and walks to the dance floor, hoping the next song is not too slow or too fast. She is not the best dancer, which could be why she is never chosen. Getting to the dance floor, she stands, her awkwardness radiating from her as Bob Marley’s, Turn your lights down low starts.

Still craving a man who's shown me I'm nothing but a piece of ass to him. So I lift my glass, drain what's left, and paste the smirk back on my face like armor. "C'mon, cuz. Let's dance. I don't wanna talk about men problems tonight." Daisha grins. "Now that's the energy I'm lookin' for." She grabs my hand, dragging me straight into the crush of bodies. The dancefloor moves like one giant wave under the flashing lights, shoulder to shoulder, heat and sweat rolling through the air thick enough to taste. Daisha's already in her element—dropping low, throwing her ass back like she's auditioning for Beyoncé's next tour.

THIS CONCLUDES BOOK ONE: DANCING WITH FATE. BOOK TWO WILL BE A STORY WITH THE POINT OF VIEW OF RYAN. BOOK TWO: FIGHTING FATE

Happily surprised, he couldn't believe she was asking him to dance. It would be impolite not to dance with the girl since she's asking. There are several things Adonis has expertise in, just to name a few: females, drinking, and dancing. Dancing comes second nature to his body, and it is always something he's very confident doing. Adonis went out in the middle of the crowd with swagger; the two instantly found themselves in each other's arms, dancing body to body. The chemistry heated like a strike of a match! Adonis had to use restraint to ensure he didn’t go too far with his moves. But he pleasantly enjoyed her moves on the dance floor with him.