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He stood up to meet her and began to dance. She laughed and stepped back. He just stepped closer to her and kept dancing. This made her laugh as she was trying to cover up her nerves. Why was this young black man making her so nervous? Jermaine danced closer and closer to her. Eventually he got around behind her. He put his hands on her hips as they danced in unison. He kept telling her she was a great dancer. Suddenly, he pushed her forward, forcing her to bend over. He then grabbed her by the hips and started to grind on her. She knew she shouldn’t be doing this, but couldn’t stop. It felt so good to her to have him control her. She kept pushing back into him, grinding right back on him. They kept doing this for a whole song when she suddenly felt something that made her stop. There was a rather large bulge in his pants and she could feel it on her ass. It was sliding up and down between her thighs and rubbing her from her crotch to her asshole. Quickly she stood up and walked away. And she told Dean that because, well, perhaps because her clit was still tingling from the joy of capturing the retired agent’s… attention. No, Dean corrected himself, Rose would not have done that. She had told him because she wanted him to know what was going on, she wanted him to watch what he got into. Uh oh, Dean mused, she cares about me. His wife, on the other hand, had dismissed him during his return home with little curiosity. She had other interests. He mentally flipped that card over. What about the Lepenistes? He had figured out that they were up to more than trying to stop Michelle from setting up a link with his agency against their penetration of her bureau. He knew pieces of their activities, and his chance encounter with the entranced Maria had opened his eyes to more of what they were doing out in California. None of that fit together, though. Too many cards lay face down on the imaginary table. Dean let his mind float away from the immediate problem. His seat.
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