"I would be lucky if that was the case," he agreed, pulling Chance into his arms, one hand in his, the other at the small of her back in a close embrace so their chests touched lightly.  She was close to his height and he didn't mind that at all.<br/><br/>He wasn't a great dancer, but he was strong and had good balance, and that went a long way in a tango, and he danced with emotion which was at least as important as technique.  He danced in the nuevo tango style - he was a Millenial American, after all - and there were plenty of chances to be sexy.  The lustrada - rubbing the partner's shin with your instep during a salida or cross step - the volcada lead from a close embrace brushed his outer hip against her lower belly and hips, the sentada where he lifted her by her waist and ran her body over his leg, the secada where Brock would lift one of her legs and pivot with her in a half-moon or a full circle.  And because he didn't think Chance would mind, the closing move was an open leg lift, where he hiked one of her thighs around his waist and carried her up, spun her around with a slide, and ending with one of her feet on the ground, the other around his waist, one hand on the back of her thigh right by where her dress rode up, the other holding her hand.  They were close, belly to belly, chest to chest.  It was a good effort, but he wasn't even winded, and his heartbeat hadn't gotten above 120.<br/><br/>"I'm not sure I care too much about Errol's issues right now," he said, the tips of his fingers on her leg going past the hem of her skirt to trace the bottom curves of her derriere.  "You<i>are</i>a good looking woman, even this close."<br/><br/>Then he set her back down.  He said over to Colin, "That's a tango.  They're fun."