This girl somehow shook my confidence every so often, setting me totally off-kilter.
“Dirty Dancing is a movie. It has a lot of dances in it, like the mambo and some others that I can’t remember.” She sipped her orange juice.
“Ah, I do know the mambo. I’d have to see these other dances. But I’m certain I can teach you whichever one you want to learn.” Confidence straightened my spine. If there was one thing I knew, it was music. Dancing was moving to music, finding the rhythm. At least it used to be. That stuff going on at my club . . . not so much.
“Really?” The joy lighting her eyes at such a simple possibility lifted something inside me. I was willing to do whatever it took to keep putting that kind of sparkle in her eyes.
“Really, baby.” And there went a thousand times more joy illuminating her eyes, her smile, her face. “But, I need to get something in return.”
Her joy morphed into hunger and heat. If I didn’t know better, I’d say she had a predatory look. Maybe I created a monster last night. I chuckled at the possibility. Then we really would be a match made in heaven . . . or hell as the case may be.
“What would you want?” nervousness tinged her voice.
“I need you to show me how to do some of those dance moves from the club, you know the . . . I think the guys from Rage Rush called it twerking or booty-popping? I can’t have you dancing by yourself anymore. Too risky. Besides you looked hot and like you were having fun.”
“You want to learn to twerk?” she managed to ask with a straight face. Her teeth chomped down on her lower lip, trapping her mirth inside.
“Well, you want to dirty dance,” I challenged.
“I guess that makes us two peas in a pod then.” She flopped back on the pillow with a loud guffaw.
I shifted the tray and stalked over her body. “I’ll happily be a pea in your pod any day,” I murmured against her lips before capturing them with my own. She tasted of sweetness and salt.
Once I’d kissed her lips swollen, I tugged her back up and continued to feed us the rest of the eggs. Breakfast was finished with an air of joviality.
“So, do you want to be the student or the teacher first?” I asked her, arching my brow.
“Hmmm.” She tapped her finger on her chin, contemplating. “How about I teach you some moves first, then we can watch the Dirty Dancing movie since somehow, you missed out on this classic film, then you can teach me some moves?”
“Works for me.” Gently, I dabbed her lips with the cloth napkin, then repeated the move on my own.
She placed her hand on my arm. “Thanks for not making fun of my request.”
“I reserve making judgments about your request until I see this dirty dancing you speak of trying,” I qualified teasingly.
Leaning toward me, her lips greeted mine briefly. My fingers instantly tangled in her hair to hold her in place to allow my tongue to plunder her mouth. Her fingers drifted down my torso and curled into the waistband of my pants as she held on. I jerked back.
Hastily, I climbed off the mattress before I forgot our plans and kept her in my bed all day. She swung her legs over the edge of the bed and hopped down next to me. I froze in place, staring at her.
“What?” she asked, self-consciously brushing her fingers through her bed head.
“Just thinking.”
“About?”
I wasn’t able to help myself; I closed the distance I’d originally put between us. “I was thinking that you look damn good in my clothes.”
A pink flush stole across her cheeks and rushed down her neck, disappearing beneath the cotton of my T-shirt. I traced a single finger down her neck, following that heat to her collarbone. Her breath hitched at that hint of a touch. With another step forward, there was barely an exhale between our bodies. “And I’m doing my damnedest to not imagine how good you’d look out of them.”
She swallowed audibly. Her fingers brushed my chest and traced the leather cord that hung around my neck. Before I could let my lust overrule my common sense, I grabbed her wrist and brought it to my lips. After a lingering kiss to her pulse point, I forced myself to let go of her.
Her gaze met mine. Her emotions were vivid in her eyes—every single one of them: confusion, hurt, desire. Thankfully after decades of practice, I’d become quite skilled in schooling my emotions.
She blinked hard and drew in a shuttering breath. “Well, I’m going to go get dressed now. Meet you downstairs?”
“In the music room,” I answered in a terse voice. I knew my hot and cold actions were confusing her.
She turned her back toward me. “OK,” she whispered.
I swatted her on the butt, drawing a gasp from her. She peered at me over her shoulder. With a smirk, I said, “Just practicing booty popping. Now get going.”
She giggled as she sauntered out the door, adding a little extra hypnotic sway to her hips the whole way to her room.
Deciding to forgo my morning shower to keep her scent on my skin a bit longer, I donned a pair of blue jeans and a T-shirt. I elected to skip socks and shoes and hoped I didn’t regret that decision by day’s end.
Wasting little time, I strode purposefully to the music room and turned on the sound system. I had no idea what station to turn it to or even a single song to cue up. I was so out of touch with the hipness of club music.
How was that possible? I owned a night club. Soft steps halted my thoughts. I turned so abruptly, Celesta jumped.
“Can’t sneak up on you.” She laughed awkwardly.
Her jumpiness was adorable. Inwardly, I rolled my eyes at my thoughts. Her look was a far cry from adorable though. Dark denim hugged her body so tightly, I wasn’t certain her jeans weren’t from a spray can. The tank top she wore was nearly as tight, clinging to her breasts, and the hem was about an inch shy of her waistband. That narrow strip of skin taunted me. Begged for my touch. My kiss.
“Were you trying to sneak up on me?”
“Nah. I just didn’t expect you to turn so quickly. I’m still not used to how fast you can move.” She tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear.
In an instant, I was by her side, and I swept her up in my embrace. She giggled at the rush of adrenaline I smelled surging through her veins. “Is this too fast for you?”
“You’re like a roller coaster ride, keeping me on the edge of my seat with no idea what to expect next,” she panted.
“I like you on edge.” I spun us around.
“I think I like me on edge too.”
Waltzing her at a dizzying pace, we crossed the room to the sound system. “Find us some appropriate club music.”
“Already got some. Just need to hook up my phone.” She held up the purple device.
Within seconds, a throbbing beat pulsed throughout the room.
♪ Strip That Down by Liam Payne
She walked back up to me. “Dancing at the club is much less formal than the dancing you learned all those years ago. It’s much less about the actual steps and more about the feel.”
“That’s stupid. Dance is about measured steps in a pattern. Moving to the rhythm of the music.”
“No. Dance is another art form. It’s an extension of music. I know you don’t see music as just a measured pattern.” She grabbed my hand and placed it over her heart. “Music is a rhythm, a heartbeat, an expression of your soul. It doesn’t come into your mind as merely a measured pattern.”
I looked at her skeptically.
“Let’s just start with a simple two step, from side to side.”
I watched her and tried to imitate her movements.
“Loosen up a little. Don’t hold your posture so stiffly. Move like the sexy man you are.”
I smirked at her and watched her more closely.
“Put your hands on my hips,” she ordered.
I happily obliged her command and settled my palms on her curves, my fingers spanning around to her rear. The heat of her flesh permeated the fabric of her jeans, warming me. She drap
ed her arms on my shoulders.
“Now bend your knees a bit as if to squat down.”
“Like this?” I asked after I bent my knees a fraction.
She stepped closer to me, nudging one of her knees in between mine. “A little lower. To put your hips on level with mine.”
I adjusted my stance, aligning our hips. The proximity was delicious. My senses filled with her. My worries over looking stupid evaporated with each inhale of her sweet scent.
“Now, just circle your hips the same direction I circle mine.” We moved like that for several minutes.
“I think you’re getting the hang of it. All you have to do is feel the pulse of the music and time your movements to it. If you have any doubts, just match me.”
The song changed, and the speed of her hips altered to match the new beat. I shifted to move to the new tempo. This was nearly as hard as it looked from the sidelines of the dance floor.
“Since you’ve got the hang of this, let’s change it up.” The panic must have shown on my face because a giggle escaped her lips. “Don’t worry, it’s not that much of a change. You don’t do anything differently. Our positions just change.”
I wasn’t sure how she did it because it happened so seamlessly, but she spun in my grasp. Her back was to my front. My palms were still planted on her hips. My fingers spanned the front of her waist and teased that tempting inch of bare flesh above her waistband. She ground her butt against my crotch, making my jeans become increasingly tighter.
One of her arms snaked up around my neck, while the other rested on top of one of my hands.
Moving with her like this was maddening. Her arm pressed my head forward into her neck. I leaned down to plant a kiss against her galloping pulse. My eyes raked across her chest, the skin showing a faint sheen to it. Her nipples pebbled against the thin cotton of her tank top. As her hips circled, the tips of our fingers slipped beneath the waistband of her impossibly tight jeans. I wanted to delve deeper, to feel more, but the fabric had absolutely no give. There’d be nothing more than a tantalizing hint at what lay lower. The delicious friction of her butt rubbing against my cock made coherent thought impossible. The heat and scent of her core hypnotized me. I was like a cobra under the spell of her song and dance.
“You doing OK back there?” her husky voice interrupted my thoughts.
As much I was enjoying every single thing about this dance, the need to kiss her was overwhelming, so I spun her around. The sudden movement took her by surprise, and she let out a laugh.
Placing her arms back around my neck, I wrapped mine tightly around her, forcing our bodies to share the same molecules of air.
I dipped my body lower, driving my knee deeper between hers and putting us nearly at eye level.
“You didn’t care for that dance position?” A hint of a smirk lifted one corner of her mouth.
I chuckled darkly before answering, “I liked that position very much, which you should be able to tell by now.” I pulled her crotch more firmly against mine so she could feel just what the previous dance position had done to me.
“Oh,” she whispered.
I snaked one arm up her back and anchored my palm against her neck so there’d be no escaping the kiss I was going to take.
“But I was consumed by thoughts of kissing you until the world crashed around us, so I needed to be face to face with you.”
That was the only warning I gave before I crushed my lips to hers. There wasn’t an ounce of finesse or tenderness in my kiss—I could apologize for that later. At the moment, my blood was too heated and my thoughts too clouded to give her the gentleness she deserved.
She whimpered into my mouth as her fingers tangled in my hair and forced my lips more tightly to hers. Her tongue was fire, a welder’s torch, fusing our mouths together. Shamelessly, she ground her warmth against my thigh nestled between hers. She was like an inferno, and I was nearly certain her heat was going to consume us both. The sound of her blood whooshed in my ears. Her heart stuttered against mine. Perfect nipples rubbed against my chest as she deepened the kiss. Her tongue matched mine stroke for stroke. The aroma of her arousal invaded every cell in my body, burning its memory into my very DNA, marking me permanently as hers.
When she sucked my tongue, a tingle of electricity shot straight to my cock, making it harder than should be possible in denim. I was fairly certain my jeans were going to have to be cut off my body. I pressed my thigh a little harder against her center, eliciting another whimper from her. Her hips moved in perfect rhythm to the music still forming the background track to the most erotic dance I’d ever seen. The seam of her jeans was positioned to create the perfect point of friction between my body and hers.
She broke the kiss and looked into my eyes as she panted for breath. “Toven,” fell from her lips before she reclaimed mine in urgency.
Not needing to hold her head to ensure our lips stayed fused, I brought my hand back around and palmed her breast. She gasped into my mouth. Using my thumb and forefinger, I flicked one of her pebbled nipples through the fabric of her shirt. I wanted to tweak it flesh on flesh but didn’t quite trust my grip on reality if I had the heat of her skin directly on mine at the moment.
Her hips lost the rhythm of the song. Now they moved at an erratic, frantic pace as Celesta chased bliss—a bliss she’d only just experienced for the first time last night. With me. A bliss she hadn’t even known existed. I knew she was teetering on the edge, but I wanted her fall into ecstasy to be my doing. I needed to tip her over. I selfishly wanted every moment of her bliss and didn’t want her to ever have it without me. Why can’t I think of any word besides bliss?
What the hell. I had to try.
I dragged the fabric of her shirt up between our bodies, discovering she had no bra on. Damn.
I had to focus. This was all about her and making sure I was the source of her pleasure. Once I had the hem of her scrap of a shirt up around her neck, I broke our kiss. Her moans were desperate and the most beautiful music to ever touch my ears. Trailing kisses down her neck and across her collarbone, my desperation was on the rise—as was something else. I closed my lips around one pebbled peak, sucking and nibbling until she finally shattered a few moments later.
“Oh, Toven!” she shouted as her body tensed.
I moved my lips to her other turgid nipple. I didn’t get a chance to sample these delectable morsels last night. God, I’d missed out.
Each pull of my mouth brought new notes of ecstasy from her. I wanted to keep her hovering in this state of delirious rapture indefinitely—her breaths shallow, eyes glassy, pulse pounding, fingers clutching and wet heat trembling against my thigh.
I was high on her pleasure. It was a new feeling. Her body began to uncoil and take on a languid quality. I gave the nipple currently pressed to the roof of my mouth one last suck, prompting a full body shudder from her. When I raised my head and met her eyes, her skin flushed with embarrassment, and she averted her gaze.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered in a voice so soft that had I not possessed enhanced senses, I never would’ve heard. She wiggled, trying to get out of my arms.
I wasn’t sure what had her upset, but I had no intentions of letting her go. My pendant burned beneath my shirt, but I couldn’t concentrate on that minor, painful nuisance at the moment. I kept one arm firmly around her waist and used the other hand to tilt her face toward mine.
“Why are you sorry?”
“I’m so embarrassed.” She tried to turn her face from me, but my grasp on her chin wouldn’t allow her that escape.
“Why?”
“Because that wasn’t me. That was so . . . slutty,” she spat out in a rush.
“Celesta, that was not slutty. That was hot.” I swallowed hard. “So damn hot. I love that you let go of your inhibitions and chased pleasure with me. I love that you trust me enough to do that.” The damn pendant burned hotter, distracting me for a moment. “That wasn’t dancing. That was foreplay.”
; I pressed my aching hardness against her, trying to distract her from her unwarranted shame with the evidence of my arousal. She moaned at the contact. I groaned and slowly lowered my thigh from her warmth and stood back to my full height. I had to get my wits back about me.
“Now, we probably shouldn’t take foreplay, I mean dancing, that far in the club, or I may have to murder some people who’d see you in the throes of bliss,” I adopted a stern tone.
She cast her eyes down again. She needed to be looking in my eyes when I said what I had to say next. She had to understand how serious I was about what was going to come out of my mouth, so I tipped her chin up again. “That sight belongs to me and only me. Your bliss is mine,” I growled and sealed my possession with a kiss meant to brand her heart.
When the kiss finally broke, she looked me directly in my eyes and stated with conviction, “Yours.”
My damn pendant was heating up again. With one hand, I yanked it from beneath my shirt, hoping the fabric would offer a barrier to the heat.
"I need to go take care of something really quick, then we’ll watch your movie. OK?” I said as I put a small amount of space between us.
“Can I help?” she asked sweetly.
I smirked. I would’ve loved to let her help. I glanced down at my crotch, hoping she’d understand what I needed to take care of. Her eyes followed mine.
“Oh.” She drew in a deep breath. “I can help with that . . . if you want.” She nibbled on her lower lip while she awaited my response.
Reaching out, I cupped her cheek. “Believe me, baby, I know you can. And it’s not that I don’t want you to. I just can’t let you, at least not yet. I’d rather die of blue balls than risk hurting you.”
“I don’t want you to die of blue balls. And I probably wouldn’t be very good at it any way.”
“I’m quite sure you’d be fine, but I’m not ready to risk your safety for a trip to ecstasy courtesy of your hands, mouth or body. Give me time, OK?”
“Well, time is one thing you have plenty of, so I can be patient for a little while.” She offered me a shy smile of acceptance.
Blood Song: Refrain (Blood Song Series Book 2) Page 10