The tips of his fingers skate across the top of my ass. Sparks shoot off my skin from the contact, and I suck in a breath.
“Stop doing that,” I say through my forced smile.
“Doing what?”
“Touching me like that.”
“You’re my fiancée,” he replies like that explains everything.
His hand retreats, and I release a sigh, only to startle when he yanks me forward so there isn’t an inch of space left between us. Breathing is officially optional at this point.
“What kind of slow dancing is this?”
“The kind that has everyone filming us.”
My entire face feels molten as I look around the room. “Oh God.”