No additional warnings for this scene.
Stepping easily into the lead position, Ben very lightly puts one hand on Luo Fei’s narrow waist — was it always this small? — and just as lightly holds his other hand, hoping to keep contact to an absolute minimum. He tries not to think about the way Luo Fei’s hand feels like a brand on his shoulder, or look at how the pearls he’s wearing so beautifully offset his coloring, or how his thick, wild hair is barely contained by the artful gold and pearl pins holding his curls in place.
But in heels, Luo Fei is matched to his height and his noble profile is too easy to fixate on, his eyes bright with the makeup artfully applied. The material of the form-fitting cheongsam is silky and tempting under Ben’s hand. Ben has obsessed over Luo Fei’s lips thousands of times through the years, but in bright blood red lipstick they are full and luscious and tempting.
This is hell.
“Xiaoman is a devil,” Luo Fei grits out between clenched teeth.
At least they agree on that. Ben nods curtly as they make two more circuits around the dance floor.
Luo Fei sighs. “I know this is the last place you want to be, here with me,” he says, almost sorrowful about it.
“I have never designed to insult your sensibilities with my degenerate lifestyle. Surely you know my affections for you would never presume this much from our friendship,” Ben finally says, hoping his apology is enough.
And then crashes into Luo Fei, who has stopped dead and is staring at him in shock. Another couple almost plows into them before Luo Fei shakes himself. He glares at Ben, then steps up and presses his whole body against him. Ben shudders.
“You, Ben Jie Ming, are an idiot,” Luo Fei hisses quietly before looping his arms over his shoulders. He is shifting his hips to the beat of the song, the cheongsam’s silk sliding easily against Ben’s trousers. Ben either has to push him off like a cad or wrap his own arms around Luo Fei and start dancing again. It isn’t much of a choice.
Ben is mentally cataloging all the curse words he knows.
He knows a lot.
When he’s done, he finally has the wherewithal to ask, “ What are you doing ?”
Luo Fei pulls back just a little and simpers at him, the jackass. “Dancing with a handsome man! Isn’t it obvious?”
Ben turns them around the floor for a moment, grinding teeth. “I never expected you to enjoy making fun of me in this way.” He’s hurt, and he’s embarrassed, and he does not know how to extricate himself from Luo Fei’s claws — painted as red as his lips, damn it — without causing a scene. Where the hell did Xiaoman go?
Luo Fei presses their cheeks together with a sigh. “I have waited a long time to dance with you, Ben,” he says softly. Ben could almost believe Luo Fei means it.
“You are taking this too far.”
Luo Fei sighs again, his warm breath ghosting over Ben’s ear like a tease. He keeps himself pressed as close to Ben as indecently possible. Ben ignores the many winks sent his way by other dancers and waits for Xiaoman to rescue him.
“So that’s how it is?” The gangster says, eyeing Ben and Luo Fei with a broad grin on his face. “If you like to share, we can make arrangements.”
It’s all Xiaoman can do to keep from beating the barbarian to death right there at the bar. She grinds her teeth but smiles, knowing she cannot do anything to rile his suspicions. “Ben Jie Ming is an old friend and I can’t speak for him but I, myself, am always open to arrangements. With the right sort.” She lifts an eyebrow, smirking, and lets him draw his own conclusions.
She, on the other hand, has come to a very specific conclusion, based on what seems to be a war of attrition happening on the dance floor between a surprisingly sinuous, seductive (if not a tiny bit too desperate) Luo Fei and a dire, blank-faced Ben. Steps must be taken, because men are idiots .
She downs her drink and suggests to the gangster that they meet again at some undefined point in time before leaving him there to go talk to her new best friend, Andy.