The Art of Sin

by Alexandrea Weis

  “I knew he owned the club, but I didn’t think he would remember me. Matt was one of my dad’s old friends. He helped Cassie and me after Mom died. I haven’t seen him since his wedding to Beverly.”

  “You were at his wedding?”

  She nodded. “Beverly invited me.”

  Grady’s face became serious as he stared into her eyes. “Then you must know what kind of games she has been playing with Doug.”

  She stepped out of his arms. “I know Doug is one of many men in and out of Beverly’s life. I’ve tried to warn him about her, but he never listens.”

  “Did you know Beverly ended up in the hospital two days ago, and told Doug that Matt beat her up?”

  “Matt? No way.” Al vehemently shook her head. “He may be many things, but he has never raised a hand to any woman. It was probably one of Beverly’s other boyfriends.”

  “It was. Another dancer here at the club named Colin. Matt fired him for it.”

  “Sounds like Beverly’s MO. She’s always had a thing for dancers.”

  “Doug needs to know how Beverly really is,” Grady insisted.

  “He already knows, Grady. He knows all about Beverly’s other men, but he still won’t let her go.”

  Grady ran his hand over his short blond hair. “I had no idea.”

  “‘Love makes for strange lovers,’ my mother used to always say. I don’t know why Doug puts up with Beverly, but he does. Maybe Matt stays married to her to spare his kids the pain of divorce … or to keep everyone from finding out about his other life. God knows, Matt was never really into women.”

  Grady stared at her in disbelief. “You knew about that, too?”

  “My father used to call Uncle Matt queer when I was a kid. I didn’t know what it meant, but when I got older, I figured it out.”

  Grady shook his head while muttering, “This really is a small town.”

  Inching closer, she ran her fingers along the ropelike muscles in his forearm, tracing the large veins with her fingertips.

  “You’re oily.”

  “I didn’t wipe off the oil from my show yet. I was hurrying to dress so I could get to you.” That lustful tingle began in his groin as he watched her slender fingers stroke his arm. “What are you doing here? I thought we were meeting back at your place.”

  “I couldn’t sleep, so I decided to catch your show.” Her alluring grin was fueling his desire. “Sorry to say, I missed it,” she admitted with a sexy sigh.

  Unable to resist her any longer, Grady slid his arms around her.

  “That’s a shame. I would have liked dancing for you.”

  Her hands gripped his damp T-shirt. “Maybe you can give me a private dance?”

  He kissed her neck. “I have to warn you, I’m not cheap.”

  “What will a private dance cost me?”

  His lips brushed against her chin. “I’ll dance for you, if you show me your cupola.”

  Her airy laugh instantly brightened the dismal dressing room. “I’ll think about it.” Her eyes drifted to the silver-sequined costume hanging from a hook on the wall behind him. “How do you come up with your routines? I mean, the choreography and costumes.” She nodded to the silver costume. “How did you think up that one, for example?”

  He followed her eyes to the costume. “That?” He let her go, walked over to the wall, and lifted the silver costume from the hook. “I had this made when I returned to dancing. I’m not sure where I came up with the idea. I guess I was thinking of some flashy outfit to hit the road with. It seems pretty silly now, but I was trying to be original. The dance moves take shape after I have the outfit. What I really try to do with the costume and dancing is create a character the audience can get lost in. Something that fulfills the fantasy.”

  She glided up to him, smiling seductively. “Grady, you’re the fantasy, not the character. What all those women want out there is the body they see on stage. How you dress isn’t important. It’s how you move. That’s what turns them on. It’s what turned me on.”

  He replaced the costume on the hook. “Really?”

  “Yeah. The way you sway your hips.” She curled her hand around his right hip, lowering it to his butt. “The way you shake this.” She patted his behind. “Very enticing.”

  “Enticing?” He chuckled and took her hand. Spinning her around, he pressed into her back. “I could say the same thing about you. Every time you walk away from me,” he thrust his hips into her, “I get turned on by your ass.”

  Holding his arms against her chest, she swayed her hips from side to side, purposefully rubbing against his cock. “Is my ass turning you on now?”

  He buried his head in her hair as a rush of white hot heat shot up from his groin. “Damn, that feels good.” He lowered his hand to her crotch and slipped it between her legs, pressing into her. “I know something that would feel a whole lot better.”

  “Ever done it in a dressing room?” she whispered. “With a fan?”

  “No,” he conceded, beginning to sway his hips in time with hers. “Dressing rooms aren’t places where you get a lot of privacy. People are always walking in and out.”

  “Let’s give it a try.” She pushed his hand deeper into her. “Because I’m not sure I can wait much longer for you.”

  “No need to wait.” He lowered the zipper of her jeans, and slid his hand into her panties. “I can satisfy you right here, right now.” Grady bit down on her earlobe as his fingers found her folds. Easing into her wet flesh, Al steadied herself against him and opened her legs wider.

  “I love it when you’re wet for me.”

  His forefinger found her clit and he rubbed hard against it, making her gasp with pleasure. God, he loved the sound of a woman getting turned on. Setting her clit between his thumb and forefinger he pinched it and Al shuddered.

  “Yeah, you like that, don’t you, baby?” he cooed in her ear, pinching her again.

  She was rocking in his arms as he methodically rubbed her clit between his fingers, feeling the tension rising in her muscles. He held her close and luxuriated in the silky texture of her wetness as his cock got hard. He wanted to bend her over, fuck her from behind, but he held back. This was for her and only her. When she finally let go he thought he would hear her scream, but instead she trembled against him and then sagged in his arms.

  He gave her a few minutes to catch her breath while rubbing his hand along her back. When she zipped up her pants and spun around in his arms, she showed him a perturbed frown.

  “That wasn’t quite what I had in mind.” She cupped his erection. “Sure you don’t want more?”

  He pecked her lips and moved her hand aside. “No, I want to leave you hungry for me.”

  Al’s frown disappeared as her eyes swept over his chest. “I don’t think I’ll ever stop being hungry for you.”

  “Now that is what a guy really likes to hear.” He touched his forehead to hers. “Why don’t we go back to your place? Perhaps you could let me loose in that fancy kitchen of yours, so I can whip us up a midnight snack. I might even be able to put a dent in that insatiable hunger of yours. What do you say?”

  “Grady, I have an 8 A.M. case,” Al complained.

  He walked awkwardly to the dressing room door, his hard on rubbing against his jeans. “I promise to get you to bed at a reasonable hour.”

  “‘A reasonable hour?’ I don’t like the sound of that.”

  “You can trust me, baby.” He opened the door. “I’m a man of my word.”

  “Trust you?” She moved toward the door. “We’ll see, Grady.”

  “Ernest Hemingway once said, ‘The best way to find out if you can trust somebody is to trust them.’ So trust me, Allison.” He nodded to the hallway. “Go pull your car in front of the club while I finish packing up and,” he glanced down at his crotch, “calm down.”

  She stood at the door, scrutinizing him with her cautious eyes. “Trusting is difficult for me, Grady.”

  “Me too, but I would like to start
trusting someone … and I would very much like that someone to be you.”

  “I’d like that, too.” She kissed his cheek, and then quickly spun away.

  Leaning out the door, Grady watched her slender hips saunter down the hallway. A kick of uncertainty hit his gut as he thought of trusting Al with his heart.

  Can you really trust her? his bothersome inner voice nagged.

  He had been so long on his own that the idea of trusting another seemed like a foreign concept to him. Despite his reservations, Grady was convinced of one thing; if he did not take a chance with her, he would regret it for the rest of his life. No, it was time for a fresh start and a new outlook. He just prayed that Al was the woman he had been hoping for … the one who could heal his tattered soul.

  Chapter 15

  After hurriedly depositing his bags inside his apartment door, Grady followed Al’s seductive hips up the stairs to her third floor home. As she placed the key in the lock, he kissed the nape of her neck.

  Al’s body shuddered when he began to fondle her breasts.

  “Can’t you wait until we get inside?” she protested, struggling with the lock.

  Grady bit down on her neck and whispered, “Hurry.”

  When the dead bolt gave way, Grady kicked the door open and pushed her inside.

  Al chucked her keys to the floor while Grady shut the door. She surrendered to his arms and eagerly kissed him. Her kisses were like fire against his lips. Never had he known such a sensation with a woman; it was as if his every nerve was buzzing with electricity. Christ, he wanted her so much. He ached to be inside of her.

  His lips were inching down her neck when she mumbled, “What about our midnight snack?”

  “It can wait,” he returned and slammed his mouth into hers.

  Al tugged at his T-shirt, quickly lifting it over his head. She threw the shirt to the nearby deep red sofa while Grady slipped off his tennis shoes. She took Grady’s hand, leading him across the darkened room toward the moonlight creeping in through the picture window. When they came to the built-in bench below the window, she pushed him down on the taupe cushions and stood before him. Her eyes were intently focused on his as she slipped her T-shirt over her head and then slowly unzipped her jeans. Rocking her hips back and forth, she slid the fabric down her slender thighs. Enthralled, Grady watched as she stepped from her jeans and reached behind her back, removing her bra. She smiled sheepishly at the floor when her breasts fell free. The gesture almost sent Grady’s blood pressure through the roof. It was so sexy, and at the same time, so innocently sweet. He wanted to take her in his arms and never let her go.

  After she dropped the bra to the floor, she took his hands and brought them to the waistband of her tan cotton underwear. Grady eased the panties down her legs and she held on to his shoulders as he helped her step out of them. Naked before him in the moonlight, she was the most beautiful creature Grady had ever seen.

  His fingers traced the contours of her thighs, and then he placed his hands around her slender hips. Leaning forward, he kissed her stomach and breasts. Al climbed onto his lap and straddled his hips. With Grady kissing her as his fingers pinched at her pink nipples, she began rocking her hips against his crotch, enticing him. Reaching between her legs, he teased her wet flesh and Al hugged his neck when he flicked her clit.

  She fumbled with the zipper on his pants, but Grady lifted her from his hips and laid her back on the bench. He raised her left leg in the air, kissed her ankle, and slowly moved his lips along her inner calf, nipping at her inner thigh until he reached the valley between her legs. When his mouth settled over her clit, Al gasped with pleasure. Her hands tugged at his hair as his tongue swirled around her most sensitive spot. She arched on the bench and bent her head back when his gentle motion grew more demanding. He could feel the tension in her body rising. She was reaching for the wall behind her as her gasps became cries of desperation. Right before she was about to come, Grady pulled away and her body caved with abject disappointment.

  “Don’t stop,” she begged.

  Grady kissed her thigh, and then spread her folds apart. His tongue circled around her swollen clit and then he gently grazed his teeth against her flesh. Her body lurched upward as if hit by a bolt of lightning, and then she screamed. As the orgasm cascaded through her, Grady slipped his fingers inside of her, feeling her pulsate.

  “I love making you come,” he whispered.

  Al’s body was limp with satisfaction as he rolled her over. He pulled her hips up, forcing her to her knees. He quickly unzipped his jeans and lowered them over his hips. As he ran his hands over her creamy white ass, his erection throbbed with need. Spreading her legs apart, he opened her folds. With one powerful push, he entered her.

  Al grunted as he backed out and dove even harder into her. “Yes.” She rolled her head back. “Again.”

  He smacked hard into her once more and she groaned. She spread her legs wider apart and raised her hips even higher.

  “Go deeper,” she pleaded.

  With his hands, Grady squeezed her butt cheeks together and pushed with brutal force to enter into her deepest reaches.

  “Oh, God,” Al cried out.

  Grady grunted as he made every penetration as hard and deep as he could. The snug fit of her around him was driving him crazy. With every thrust, he felt his orgasm rushing forward. Soon he was pounding into her, the sound of their hips slapping together filled the air. Then, she cried out with ecstasy. He could not control it any longer and he tugged her hips closer to his with a frantic desire to end his torture. The white heat from his groin took over his mind, blotting out everything except the sensation of being in her. He moaned and clung to her just as his climax barreled through him.

  For several seconds he was too numb to move and simply kept his arms locked around her waist.

  “That was better than before,” Al whispered beneath him.

  Grady backed away from her and sat back on the bench with a thud.

  “It’s official, you’re killing me,” he breathlessly joked.

  Al snuggled against him. Grady put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close.

  “You didn’t use anything, did you?”

  Stunned, Grady realized she was right. He had forgotten to put on a condom, having been so caught up in the act.

  “Damn it,” he cursed and rocked his head back. “I completely forgot.”

  “I didn’t mind. I actually liked it better that way.”

  “Yeah, me too. But it was foolish of me. I know you don’t want kids, and—”

  “I never said I didn’t want children, just a husband,” she cut in.

  “What if something did happen tonight?” He kissed the tip of her nose, “Or perhaps another night … would you want my baby?”

  She rested her head against his chest. “With all my heart.”

  The rush of relief that surged through him took him by surprise. There it was; the moment he had been waiting for from her. That glimmer of emotion that told him she cared for him, just as much as he cared for her.

  Grady pushed her naked body back on the bench. “In that case, to hell with condoms.”

  “We need to continue to be careful, Grady. We barely know each other and a child is a lot of responsibility. Then there is the added problem of our age difference. How would we—?”

  “Allison,” he interrupted. “Stop talking.” He kissed her lips and folded his arms around her. “We are what we are, and I wouldn’t change any of it for the world.” He slid his jeans off, kicked them away, and then climbed on top of her.

  “What happened to your promise to get me to bed at a reasonable hour?” she asked, reaching around to his tight, round ass.

  “I haven’t forgotten, and we’ll get to bed … eventually.” He spread her legs apart. “When I’ve had enough of you.”

  She reached down and stroked his growing erection. “Enough? We’ll see about that.”

  His lips hovered over hers. “Yeah, we
may be here a while.”

  * * *

  Standing over Al’s island cooktop, dressed only in his jeans, Grady tended to the grilled cheese sandwich in the pan before him.

  “I like your kitchen.” He waved his spatula at the oak cabinets and beige granite countertops that were set against the dark hardwood floors. “I especially like the posters.”

  On the eggshell-painted walls were various posters of renowned New Orleans restaurants, with a few signed by the chefs who cooked there.

  “Did all these guys stay with you?” Grady questioned, admiring a brightly colored poster of a New Orleans courtyard.

  Al browsed the posters from her stool next to the cooktop. “Not all of them, no.” Pulling at the lapel on her green silk robe, she motioned to a poster on the far wall next to her built-in refrigerator. “Max Kramer, who worked as a sous-chef at Andouille, got some of the posters for me at a fundraiser. A few of the others my mother collected. She always admired chefs, even wanted to be one. She’s the one who got to know some of the bigger chefs in town. She started the collection, I just added to it.”

  He flipped over the sandwich in the frying pan. “Why didn’t your mother become a chef?”

  “Because she couldn’t cook worth a damn!” Al’s laughter filled the kitchen. Grady’s gut tingled when he heard her girlish giggle. “Lord knows, my mother tried. She was always preparing these weird dishes for Cassie and me to try, but they were pretty bad.”

  “Did she ever take classes?”

  “No, but she made Cassie take them, hoping it would help Cassie find a husband.” Al’s eyes stared off into the distance. “My mother always wanted grandchildren. She used to do anything and everything to get Cassie interested in marriage, but she never did.”

  “You’ve never been interested, either,” Grady reminded her.

  “Unlike Cassie, I never found the time to get serious with anyone. In my twenties, I was too busy going to school and working. After Cassie died, I was going to graduate school, working, and running this place. There was no time for dating. After I got my masters, and started working as an anesthetist, I dated a few guys and kind of hoped maybe I would settle down with one of them, but ….”