Tap Dance (Dance Series)

by Judy Hornbuckle

  When he hadn't been the Chief but had been just the man, the gorgeous man, in my apartment not so long ago.

  "You bet. A lot more than the coffee, I think. What's in it?"

  "I'm not quite sure. It's a blend that my dad gets from India and shares with the rest of us."

  "It's really good, Ram. Thanks," I said softly, trying so hard not to ogle him and failing miserably.

  The hot drink, the beautiful room, the wonderful man sitting bare-chested at the other end of the couch, me in one of his native shirts.

  Can anyone say 'swoon worthy moment'?

  He got up and made his way to me holding out his hand. I didn't hesitate in the least and placed my hand in his.

  He broke out into a full-face smile.

  "No, Pyari. Your cup," he explained softly.

  Oh.

  Yeah.

  Right.

  My cup.

  I handed him what he'd asked for, more than a bit abashed at my faux pas.

  I saw him turn and look at me over his shoulder as he rounded the corner on his way to the kitchen and the light in his eyes made my heart beat faster.

  Oh, golly.

  But I stayed there, in my little corner of his couch, waiting for him to return.

  Wishing that he would return and…

  and…

  Just be with me.

  Be with me the way I knew, I freaking knew, he wanted to be.

  I was always aware we were worlds apart, but now I really could see how his portion of the world and my little edge of it just overlapped in tiny pieces. Maybe not be completely fused, but there was a juncture there, between his world and my world, nonetheless.

  A juncture where Ram and I might meet.

  I saw the lights in the kitchen go out before he appeared around the corner again.

  Saw him, my beautiful Ram, come to my side and hold his hand out again.

  I swallowed, unsure what I was supposed to do.

  But there were no cups to be collected.

  Nothing to be toted away.

  It was just him and me.

  And as he stood there next to the couch, next to me, he continued to hold his hand out.

  I hesitantly placed my hand in his and caught his smile as I did.

  "To bed, Pyari, okay?" I heard him say.

  And my heart beat did a triple rhythm when he spoke, as he led me again down the long hallway to the bedroom I had been given in his beautiful house.

  As we stood there, in the light from the bedroom, he brought my hand to his lips.

  "Sleep well, MG," he murmured against my skin. "Mera Pyari."

  I didn't know what the last bit was that he spoke, but I recognized the want in his eyes which was surely mirrored in mine.

  I wanted this man.

  I wanted to have him between my thighs, inside me.

  Without thinking, I swayed into him and wrapped my arm around his neck bringing his face to mine.

  He didn't fight it and his eyes were glued to my lips the entire time I brought his head down.

  I kissed him softly, right at the corner of his mouth, before I moved to kiss the other corner. I kissed his top lip and then his bottom lip, softly, willing him to respond to me.

  After more than a few of those kisses, I felt him relax into it.

  His hands stole around my back as he curled around me and he slanted his face so our mouths were in full contact. His tongue hesitantly, almost reverently, touched my lips and I opened my mouth to allow him entrance.

  Oh, God.

  Ram's tongue was in my mouth, swirling and twining with mine.

  And I was aware that my breasts were pressed against his ribcage as he bent to me.

  He released a bit, his lips still trailing over mine as I clung to him.

  "Please, Ram…"

  "Pyari…" he moaned and walked me backwards to the bed, lowering me onto it, before he followed me down. He dropped himself into the channel between my legs, our mouths still fused and moving.

  I felt the evidence of his want and opened my legs further.

  Take me, my heart said.

  He pulled up onto his right arm until it was straight even though his hips, his hardness, was still pressed against the cleft of me.

  "Are you sure…" he began.

  But I didn't wait even a nano-second to consider what he was going to say to complete his sentence.

  "You better believe it," I breathed, looking up at him.

  God.

  He was gorgeous.

  I flipped up the longest part of the long shirt and gripped him with my thighs.

  "Take me…" I whispered against his ear. "Take me, Ram."

  I didn't have to ask twice as he fumbled to pull my panties off, sliding them down my legs, before reaching for his drawstring trousers.

  And just as I was lying there, legs splayed and body wanting, yearning, an alarm went off deep inside the house.

  Ram froze and turned tortured eyes to me.

  "I'm sorry, MG. I have to go," he murmured, reaching and securing his drawstring before moving fast out of the room.

  Chapter Four

  It was the light streaming through the sheers on the windows that woke me this time. And when I say this time, I meant that I hadn't gotten much sleep the night before.

  The memory of Ram kissing me, of what we had been about to do, even there in the golden morning light, was more than I'd ever had with him before and made me want it again.

  Yearned to have again.

  I swung my legs over the side of the bed, automatically reaching to hold my hair away from my face. The chemise was at my feet on the floor and was the closest piece of clothing around, so I picked it up and drew it on.

  I didn't remember taking it off, but since my dreams had been filled with sensual delights, where I shared pleasure with him, I wasn't a bit surprised that I'd slept naked.

  After performing the typical bathroom stuff, I made my way out of the room.

  He wasn't in the living room.

  He wasn't in the small breakfast nook.

  But I found a note in the kitchen.

  'Help yourself to anything . To make the tea from last night, put a cup of milk in the small saucepan with one of the teabags from the canister until the milk boils. Pop Tarts are in the pantry. No news of cat. I'll call you later. R'

  I smiled.

  He remembered.

  When we first met, when we were waiting for Caitlin, we discovered a shared love of the little toaster pastry. He had asked me not to tell anyone about it and I had initiated a Pinky Swear to show that his secret was safe with me.

  The Pinky Swear.

  Geesh. It was something you did when you were like in fifth grade but when I did it with him, it was erotic and sexy. I had relived that moment again and again but I still couldn't tell you why it had turned me on so much in sharing that with him.

  I managed to get to work on time, in spite of not having an alarm set. But I was still wearing my clothes from Cait and Jake's party the night before. Which in itself wasn't a bad thing since I had worn one of my wrap dresses that I had paired with boots that have heels up to there.

  But no girl likes wearing the same clothes from the day before. Although this wasn't a 'walk of shame' kind of moment, I still didn't like having to wear the same clothes two days in a row.

  The office manager at D&J Accounting, Aaron, my boss and an understanding guy, listened when I explained what had gone down the night before at the apartment building. He agreed to let me off early to arrange things even though this was the start of the busiest time of the accounting year for us CPA's -- tax time.

  Which explains why I was working on a Sunday. At tax time, we work six days a week and I had taken yesterday off to help Caitlin with their party.

  I had called Aunt Estella who was overjoyed to have me stay at her house. A little too overjoyed.

  Sigh.

  When I left work, I went shopping and bought three days worth of outfits from the
skin out, including a couple of pairs of shoes to match. Then there were the toiletries, makeup, etc. My bank account was going to take a hit, but it had to be done since I had no clue when they'd let me back into my apartment.

  Paul had called a couple of times but I let it go to voicemail.

  I wasn't in the mood for Paul.

  By the time I made it to Aunt Estella's, I was lagging. The lack of sleep combined with the adrenaline rushes from the night before had finally caught up with me.

  "I'm so glad you're here, Mari! Oh you poor thing, can I get you anything? Coffee, tea, valium?"

  "I'm fine, Auntie. I just need to take a shower and go to bed if you don't mind."

  "Oh, love, of course I don't mind," she said as she bustled around me.

  And when I say bustled, I mean that she literally stepped in a circle around me, wringing her hands when she wasn't tucking my hair behind my ear, smoothing my coat over my shoulders.

  Bustling.

  Which was driving me crazy.

  "Can I bring you up a bowl of soup with maybe a sandwich?" She asked as she watched me walk upstairs, the bags of today's shopping banging against my legs and the wall.

  I wanted to remind her that I didn't have a cold but that would be mean.

  "No thanks, Auntie."

  And, above all else, I couldn't be mean to my Aunt Estella. She was the one that had stepped in and helped when I had to take care of my mom at a much earlier age than anyone should have to do.

  I put the new clothes away in the spare room before I slipped off my boots and grabbed a bag of toiletries and my nightgown. While Aunt Estella's bathroom wasn't anywhere near Ram's in terms of looks or appointments, it was the only bathroom upstairs with the prerequisite hot water and clean towels.

  As I stood under the firm pressure of hot water, bits and pieces of my dreams, dreams dreamt in Ram's guest bed, floated up in my mind.

  His skin was so hot against me.

  He touched me with his hot hands. Touched me everywhere.

  Looking as he touched.

  Brushing the wet hair out of my eyes, I thought about the dreams. I could still hear his voice, the whispers we shared in those moments my mind had conjured.

  Touch me, Marianne.

  Please, Ram, please!

  You are so beautiful, he said as his long fingered hand stroked me from shoulder to knees.

  Hold me, Marianne. Hold me to you. Yes!

  Oh, Ram. Don't stop. Please don't stop.

  God, Pyari, you feel so good.

  It was only a dream, I reminded myself firmly turning the shower off.

  Just the silly musings of a gal caught up in her crush.

  I firmly pushed those thoughts and especially those feelings away and got ready for bed even though it was only six p.m.

  "Going to bed, Auntie," I called down the stairs.

  "Sleep well, love," I heard her voice call back.

  I sure as heck hoped so.

  That I would sleep well.

  Yeah, that's what I was hoping for.

  Sure I was.

  *.*.*.*.*

  I heard the light tapping but ignored it, snuggling back down into the warm covers.

  "Mari? Mari, are you awake?"

  I recognized my aunt's loud whisper.

  "Yeah, Auntie. What's wrong?" I was groggy and more than a bit put out that I needed to be awake. I was only hoping this wasn't one of my aunt's major emergencies. Like, say, the faucet in the kitchen was dripping 'out of rhythm' or the drapes were moving 'of their own accord' in the living room.

  I told you my aunt is wound just a bit too tight.

  "The Chief of Police is here to see you." Even I could hear the awe in her voice in spite of my groggy, sleep deprived state.

  "Did he say what he wants?"

  "No, Mari. Just that he wants you."

  Huh?

  No way.

  I'm positive I was only hearing what I wanted to hear.

  "Uhm. Okay, sure. Uhm. Could I borrow a robe?" There was no way I was going downstairs in just the satiny, light blue, spaghetti-strapped nightgown I was wearing even if it had the cutest band of stretchy lace just under the bodice and around the hem.

  "Of course," she said and I heard her bustling off to her room.

  She came back quickly and I was soon wrapped in her chenille robe that I think my uncle had given her on like their fifth anniversary. Aunt Estella had been married to my father's brother for thirty something years and he had died suddenly, just like my dad, from a massive coronary.

  So she wasn't actually a blood relative, which kind of accounted for the fact that she was about six inches taller than me and outweighed me by … well, let's just say quite a bit.

  I'm only bringing this up to show how her robe didn't fit me. Like, at all.

  After wrapping myself almost twice in the warm chenille, I made my way downstairs holding the robe away from my feet on my way downstairs.

  Yep, just like one of the heroines in the bodice ripper books that I enjoy reading.

  "Hey, Ram," I said coming into the front room and seeing him stand up at my entrance.

  Why would such an old fashioned gesture mean so much?

  "MG," he said with a chin lift, but his eyes were scooting up and down. "Sorry to wake you. I could've come by tomorrow if I'd known you were sleeping."

  "No worries," I replied, doing the same kind of visual sweep, noting he was still in his uniform and police jacket.

  He is so gorgeous.

  "Ah, is there some place we can talk?" he asked, pointing his head towards the doorway and I turned to see Aunt Estella standing there. I couldn't very well ask her to leave since it was her house.

  "Uhm…" I tried to think but my brain was only working with about three of its six cylinders.

  "My truck?" Yeah, that'd work.

  "Okay."

  I saw him glance down at my bare toes just poking through the trailing edge of the robe.

  "I'll have her back straight away, Mrs. Gibson," Ram said as he took a couple of steps towards me. The next thing I knew, I was swept up and he was carrying me.

  Ram was carrying me.

  And my aunt even opened the heavy front door for him.

  Chapter Five

  After about two seconds, I realized that I could continue to revel in the shock of being carried by Ram or I could settle in and just enjoy being in his arms, held close.

  You better believe I went for the second option.

  "Can you get the handle?" he asked as he stopped by the passenger door.

  Once we were inside, he started the truck up and turned on the heater.

  "Cold?"

  You've got to be kidding me, right? I may have been shaky and maybe he could see my hard as a rock nipples showing but none of that, none of that, was due to the temperature.

  I shook my head.

  Ram pulled out a large thermos and poured a cup before handing it to me. One whiff and I knew it was the delicious tea he'd made me last night.

  Last night.

  "Thanks."

  "I came by to see if you were okay and if there is anything I can get for you from your apartment."

  "So I'm guessing I'm not going to be able to go there for a while yet, huh?"

  "I'm sorry, but, no."

  I glanced out the windshield and saw my aunt framed in the large picture window of her living room, watching us. I'd tried to tell her many times before that, at night, anyone and everyone can see you clear as day if you have the lights on and the drapes open. But, Auntie was of the mind that if she couldn't see them, then them couldn't see her.

  I've often wondered what it would have been like to play hide and seek with her when she was a little girl. Was she one of those kids that stood there with their eyes closed, incorrectly assuming that they were invisible because they couldn't see?

  "Yeah, there are a few things I could use, if you wouldn't mind."

  He looked out the windshield and brought his eyes back to me
.

  "Want to go for a ride?"

  "Now?"

  "Why not?"

  "Uh, because I'm not really dressed for it?"

  I watched as his eyes did another roam over me. I swear to God it was like his hands were touching me, not just his eyes.

  "You won't leave the car, Pyari. I promise," he said and there was the glitter of teasing in his dark chocolate eyes.

  The only sound in the truck was the purr of the engine and the soft hum of the heater as we just sat there staring at each other.

  "What's that name, Ram?" I whispered finally.

  "What name?"

  "The name you keep calling me. Pea-yar-ee," I tried to pronounce it like he did and I thought I did a pretty good job even if I had to say each syllable slowly.

  Ram broke the connection of our eyes and looked back towards the house before answering.

  "It's just a term of endearment, like a nickname," he muttered softly. "Let's go to the apartments and I'll get what you want from there."

  *.*.*.*.*

  "Okay, Ram," he heard her whisper. God, he loved her voice, the way she said his name especially when she whispered.

  He drove her over to the apartments feeling only slightly guilty about not giving her the true meaning of 'Pyari'. The full meaning. The meaning that might give himself away.

  He used his little notebook to make a list of what she needed and where exactly to find it.

  "I'm sorry, but as I explained, I can't bring out anything of fabric."

  "What does that mean?"

  "Nothing made of cloth."

  "Oh. So my favorite pillow is out?"

  "Yes."

  "My robe is out?"

  "Yes."

  He watched her sigh as she turned to look out the truck's side window at the apartment building.

  Even her profile was perfect, the slightly upturned nose, her full lips and her defined jaw line. And all that hair, her beautiful, curly, blonde hair that tumbled around her shoulders.

  It didn't take her long to process the no cloth rule so the list, as she dictated, was about four items.

  "Could you see if anyone has seen Floyd?"

  "Floyd?"

  "The cat. The cat that used to have Cait as its Mom but is now mine."

  "The cat that you were worried about last night?"

  I watched her nod.