She gave him a Look and slapped his chest playfully. "You know, everyone says that, and they're always exaggerating. And, like a lot of things, it's much easier with a partner." She smiled and captured his other hand to place it on her hip. "C'mon. I'm like a pro. It'll be fun."
Ben flinched a little bit, nodding a little-- but the words weren't coming to him. All he could focus on was trying not to step on her feet without looking down to a eyefull of cleavage. It was difficult to say the least.
"Okay," He nodded a few too many times, and did his best to resist pulling his hand away from her hip.
They danced for a few moments in silence, stepping together in reasonable time around other dancers. "See, you're doing great," she cooed. They hadn't bumped into anyone yet, and he hadn't stood on her toes (which was amazing considering how adamantly he was not looking down).
She pulled him closer. If he wasn't going to look at her, then he was damn well going to feel her. "So tense, Ben! You really need to relax."
Oh Jesus Christ. An obvious flush crept up to his cheeks, only made more terribly obvious by the fact that he was so god-damned pale. Did she really have to stand so close to him?
"You could get used to it," she purred, flattening herself against him and resting her cheek on his chest. If it wasn't obvious from the way he acted or spoke, his discomfort would have been revealed by how hard his heart was beating.
She pouted up at him. "Aw, don't you like dancing with me?"
"You're very uncomfortable," she supplied observantly. However, this didn't put her off like it should have. Whether it was a complete disregard for his comfort or a pigheaded dedication to getting her own way was yet to be seen, however.
"Is it the crowd, or the dancing? It's the dancing," she decided before he had the chance to answer. "I'll take you back to the wall."
Before he even got the opportunity to feel a moment's relief, she grabbed him to lead him away-- by the waistband of his pants.
"Is it that obvious?" Ben sulked, though this was normal and hard to tell. His mood somehow soured more, and he scanned the room for an exit. Was that Mekala talking to that idiot from the Lalaurie team? What?
And then the next thing he knew, Amber was dragging him away from the dance-floor by his trousers. There was that panic again! His shoulders tensed and he instinctively wrapped a hand around her wrist, the other already trying to pry her fingers away from underside of the fabric.
Though the only thing he managed to say in protest was a vaguely panicked "Ah--"
By the time he'd managed to remove her hand from his pants they were back where they had started; by the wall where she had first ambushed him.
"Look at that, color's back in your cheeks already!" Amber grinned. Of course, that was because he was dying of embarrassment and not because he was less uncomfortable.
However, he was safe for the rest of the evening-- she was out to find someone to have fun with and clearly Ben was not going to be that for her. "Have a Merry Christmas, okay? I'll see you after break." She reached up on tiptoes and pressed a big kiss to the side of his mouth before he could escape. "Bye!"
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