This was a fun part to write. I'm Cuban. Well, relatively Cuban, my folks and whole family except for my generation was born there and my generation was born here in Miami. Anyway, point is, there is nothing sexier, imho, than a man that knows how to dance. Well, there are sexier things, but for this chapter, a little dancing is in. I got this idea from watching 'Dance With Me' with Cheyenne and Vanessa Williams for the 30th time on HBO. And a conversation my best friend and I had about her boyfriend's lack of dance skills. ;)

Thanks to: e-dog, Macaroon, BeachChick, Dessler, dansingwolf, Maria, blueangel, Vrbinka, BiteBeccy, SarahRabb, my.evian, anna, Jaggie107, snugglebug, Manda, Lisa, cbw, Xblue, froggy, aserene, crazybum, VrbinkaCZE, sally, trooper, starryeyes, Martini, NavyBabe, jaggurl, Nix, joanoa, jagdreamer, Kinga, JAGChic, Jagfan 724, littlemaccyd, ninjaturtle, blueangel, Kinga, JK, zoomie, myevian, CathyF, CBW, jagdreamer, joanoa, alix33, and mizukimar for the feedback:)

Part 6 - Salsa Lessons

I notice several things in Harm's apartment are out of place, like lamps and phones and such. No doubt, he didn't want the same war zone as my apartment. I am not sure if it was the passion, the heat, or maybe we are both two clumsy fools. But, this week, at my apartment, we managed to destroy two lamps, one phone, a vase and the bed. Yep, the bed. . .apparently, you have to tighten the bolts on the headboard, ironwork thing I have and on the frame. Well, I hadn't done that since. . .well, in a while, it's not like I've needed to. Of course, considering the fact that we didn't move from the bedroom all Friday night, Saturday night or Sunday morning, I guess it falling apart when we made to actually SLEEP on Sunday night was only acceptable.

Oh, who am I kidding? The poor bed has gotten more extracurricular usage than it ever has. Ever. And wow, was it. . .well, wow! It was sweet at first, very sweet. I can actually say I've never made love before until I met Harm. But, after the whole 'sweetness' wore off, we were like two teenagers who just stumbled upon the Kama Sutra, and I'll leave it at that. You can make your own conclusions. Suffice to say, I bet my downstairs and next door neighbors ain't happy.

I walk into his apartment to find what I can describe as sexy, Latin music playing through his stereo. In the middle of the apartment stands Harm with this really wicked grin. Okay? What gives? "What are you doing?" He has on these black dress pants, dress shoes and a partially buttoned dark blue shirt. Heard that word sexy? Well, that describes Harm to the 't'

He saunters over to me, places one kiss on my lips. One of his hands lands on my hips as the other outstretches my arm. "Teaching you to dance Salsa."

I eye Harm suspiciously realizing he's placed us into some sort of a dancing stance. "You know how to dance Salsa?"

"Si, amor mio. . .Se bailar Salsa muy bien. . . dicen que bailar es otra manera de ser el amor." I have little of a clue as to what he said, but I can feel myself drooling. All I can think is 'Aye papi!' Wow, I did NOT just think that!

Dumbly I nod at him as if I actually understood whatever he was saying. "Ah, whatever you said Harm has gotta be the hottest thing I ever heard a guy say."

He grins. "That was the point. . ." Harm sways his hip, effectively moving us side by side, ignoring completely the beat of the music.

His eyes bore into mine and I allow my body to give in. Okay, so he wants to teach me to dance Salsa, I'll dance Salsa. Still, I am curious as to what he mumbled before. Did he even have a clue? "So what did you say?"

"I said 'Yes, my love. . .I know how to dance Salsa well. They say that dancing is another form of making love.' Or something like that."

I am officially just a pool on the floor. A pool of drool. Harm eyes me like he wants to put me on a plate and have me for dinner, I expect him to kiss me senseless, but instead, he lowers both of his hands to my hips and gets me moving to the beat. "You're serious?"

"As a heart attack. . . Let's show you the basic move." He lets me go and puts his arms down to the side. Okay, so I'll be learning Salsa tonight, who knew? I place my arms down at my side and nod for him to proceed. "One thing, you have to do something you rarely do. . .let me lead."

I've danced with him before, slow songs, dance songs (which Harm looks as if thou someone stuck a frog down his pants) and of course, those waltzes at balls. But this is a bit impulsive, okay, I'll play along. "Okay, what do you want me to do."

Harm slowly slides forward his left foot and instructs me to slide mine backwards. "That's one. . .now bring that foot back to it's starting place. I'll do the same thing." Both our feet move back in place and then he instructs me. "Move your left foot forward and my right foot will move back. Good." He smiles, "Now to back to the starting place. Una ves mas. . .one more time."

We start the same 'move' again, my eyes staying on our feet as we shuffle in tandem. I'm tempted to let him know that I do know how to dance this, courtesy of an ex, but I'll let it slide. "So, when were you going to tell me you knew how to speak Spanish?" I've heard him say a few words in Spanish here and there when we've been down South, but I wasn't aware that he could ramble off more than a word or two.

"Maria Elena Carmelita Romero Guttierez." He says seriously, then starts to chuckle as I stare at him with a raised eyebrow.

Was that actually someone's name? "Maria WHAT?"

Harm chuckles again. "Maria Elena Carmelita Romero Guttierez. . .She was a Cuban girl, a flight attendant actually. . ."

He trails off and I stop moving. I am sure I am doing that laser beam stare, but really, he's with me and bringing up another woman. How daft could a man get? "Please tell me you aren't going to go there, Harm."

"This was a long time ago. . .I haven't seen her since . . .well, pretty much since you came into my life." He adds with a genuine smile, nothing cheesy or slimy, just genuine.

I am not sure how to take that. And if he thinks I am going to believe I am the catalyst that made him change his womanizing days, he's got another thing coming. I move my foot backwards and place my hands on his hips to get him doing that little move again. "So I changed your wicked wicked ways?"

"Yup." He says simply, still moving with me. Uh huh, still ain't biting flyboy. "I don't know, Mac. . .You're the first girl I know that doesn't take my crap. . .I respect that." He grins then. "I mean, who else would I wait nearly ten years for?"

Okay, so he has a point there, I guess I could let little miss Carmelita and his relationship slide. Besides, if the woman taught him this whole Spanish, sexy side, I guess I don't have much to complain about, do I? I feel his hands move down my arms and to my hips. "You know, I think I have this movement down packed." I place my hand on his chest and push him backwards. Picking up the beat of the music, I feel my hips take a motion of their own.

"You know how to dance this." He says, surprised and all I could do is grin. His hands move on to my hips, we might not be the best dances of the planet, but this is very hot. I start to realize what he said about making love and dancing is true. Instead of looking at my feet, I dare to stare up at Harm who has this smoky look of desire. And all I can think is – wow!

"You're so sexy." He says in this low, bedroomish voice, then moves one hand up and outstretches my arm. We keep the same back, center, forward, center movement but just not in a straight line anymore. This time we're moving together, around a small circle in the room. "Keep that beat, don't lose it." He tells me and I feel the hand on my hip loosen as he uses it to push me backwards a bit. With his other hand, he pulls my body towards him, then twirls me around, stops and pushes me off again only to twirl me around again. Wow. We start that basic step again and Harm draws me closer to him. He lifts one of my arms up, over his head, draping it over his shoulders, then does the same with my other arm so that we have no space between our bodies. His forehead is against mine and I can smell that sexy scent of him and his cologne. I am tempted to start a whole different type of dance. Instead, I push him backwards and keep that same basic movement while I gyrate my hips in some sort of a 'come hither' type of movement. Harm's body presses up against mine and I swear, we could give Patrick Swayze, Jennifer Grey and their Dirty Dancing a run for their money.

The CD stops playing and Harm takes my hand, dragging me towards the door. "Woah, hey. . .what's going on?" Jeez, did I sound disappointed or what? Calm down, MacKenzie, calm down!

"Oh, we're going to a Salsa club." He says as if that were the most common thing in the world. Sure, maybe if we were in Miami, but this is DC. "There's a club just outside of DC. . .I thought it would be fun."

Hmmm, fun? Actually, my idea of fun would be him, me and our own private dancing. But, Harm is giving me this puppy dog look. . and, yea, okay, I shouldn't give in, but I do. "Oh, alright, flyboy. . .Let's go burn up the dance floor."

Four hours later, we are walking in through his apartment door, still dancing. I have to admit the atmosphere, the music, and Harm made it all awesome. It was pretty liberating dancing in such a sexy way in front of other people. I make my way over to Harm's stereo to put on another Salsa number, when his hand takes mine. "Flyboy, just let me put another song on."

"Oh no no no." He says as he effortlessly lifts me into his arms. "I think it's time we make our own kinda music."

And who am I to disagree? I kiss him gently on the lips, then a bit deeper and passionately. "Hmm, I think you just had the best idea ever." I shouldn't be stroking his ego too much, he already had a bit too much fun showing me off tonight. As he carries me to bed, I think about that point. Before, it would really irritate me that men would sometimes use me like some sort of trophy. It always made me feel a bit cheap, despite how much they said they 'loved' me or 'respected' me. But, somehow with Harm I don't feel like a trophy and I don't feel cheap, just flattered. As I stare up at my lover, I can't help but ask. "Sooo, you gonna do that hip gyrating, pelvic thrust thing you did on the dance floor, Travolta?"

Harm turns about twenty shades of red as he lets out an exasperated, "Mac!" Yep, apparently once a boy scout, always a boy scout. And I love him for it.

TO BE CONTINUED...