by Alexis Daria
Donna sighed. “I thought you’d say that. What if I offered you a bonus? You said you’re here to help pay your mom’s hospital bills, right? This could help you get there faster.”
The outright manipulation chilled him to his bones. It was exactly the kind of shit he hated about Hollywood.
“I mean, you get more money for every episode you’re on, and a big bonus if you win, but let’s face it.” Donna tilted her head and her tone turned nasty. “You’re up against an Olympic figure skater who’s already gotten a perfect score. You’re not going to win.”
Rage burned in his gut. He clenched his jaw against it. “I’ll take my chances,” he said, grinding out each word between gritted teeth. Then he grabbed his bag and got to his feet. “Gotta go. My car’s waiting. See you tomorrow, Tash.”
Seething, he left the room, cursing The Dance Off, Hollywood, and the entire entertainment industry.
* * *
Even though there was no elimination during Shake It Up Week, the showrunners made all the dancers stand in their mixed-up pairs at the end of the broadcast. Gina stood with Jackson, who kept an arm around her shoulders in a friendly gesture. She smiled for the camera while tapping her foot in impatience.
“Anxious?” he asked.
She shook her head. “Excited.”
“Can’t wait to get back to Stone?”
She suppressed a smile. She’d managed all of two seconds alone with Stone backstage, but during that time, he’d leaned in and whispered, “I miss you” in her ear.
Simple words, but from him, they were everything.
Jackson laughed and shrugged. “Girl, I mind my own business. Besides, you got me a ninety for that salsa, and I don’t think Lori could have done it. You’re my favorite person right now.”
A trickle of guilt diminished her mood. She and Jackson had gotten along swimmingly, and they’d received a higher score than Stone and Natasha’s eighty-four.
Nothing about it had been the same, though. The easy camaraderie and good humor, Jackson’s willingness to learn and grow—and drive to win—were all traits Gina had hoped for in a partner at the beginning of the season. She should have been happy to work with Jackson.
Instead, all she wanted was to get back to Stone. When she danced with him, she felt more alive. She had to work harder, sure, since Stone didn’t have any dance training. And to say the man didn’t emote naturally was an understatement.
Except the challenge made every smile she pulled from him feel like a reward in and of itself. His quiet delight when he nailed a move warmed her jaded heart.
Jackson was polished and professional. When he looked at her, it was with friendly interest, the way an eager student turned to a teacher as if to ask, “What next?”
When Stone looked at her, it was with fire in his eyes, and barely leashed control of the conflagration. If she got too close, she’d be burned up and consumed.
After a week away from him, she was ready to be consumed. So fucking ready.
Once the cameras had clicked off and everyone filed backstage to change out of their costumes, Gina searched for Stone.
Natasha caught her arm. “I’m going out with Kevin and Joel and some of the others,” she said. “You want to come?”
Gina shook her head. “I’m tired. You go.”
Natasha gave a nod. “Later, chica.”
Stone was head and shoulders taller than most of the cast, and easily spotted. Gina’s heart gave a little leap when she saw him. It was ridiculous, really. She’d known him for a couple months, and they’d only been apart a few days. Yes, pros became attached to their partners quickly, and vice versa, but she’d never experienced this pull toward one of her partners, as if an invisible string connected them.
She let herself be drawn toward him, picking up speed until she was almost running. Around them, other couples were reuniting, and no one paid them much mind as she threw her arms around his neck.
He scooped her up, enveloping her in the scent of clean Alaskan air as he held her to his bare chest. He was sweaty, but so was she. His hair was loose, and she pressed her face into the warm mass. Inside, her heart settled, but the butterflies in her belly danced a fast cha-cha-chá.
“I missed you, too,” she whispered in his ear.
When she pulled back, their cheeks slid against each other and the corners of their mouths touched. She almost turned her head to kiss him before she caught herself.
Not here. They were surrounded by cast and crew. She had to act casual.
“That was a great salsa,” she said brightly.
“Natasha’s a great teacher.” His eyes flashed, and he lowered his voice. “But she’s not you.”
Well, damn. The man sure knew how to get her pulse thumping. “Come over tonight.” The words were barely a whisper.
He nodded, his lips parting to mouth, “One hour.”
“Great,” she said, louder. “See you tomorrow, bright and early. Next week’s theme is Broadway.”
They parted ways to continue saying goodbye to the rest of the cast.
Meanwhile, Gina was ready to burst with excitement. And longing.
Tonight, she would throw caution to the wind.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
The elevator down the hall dinged. Gina sucked in a deep breath and let it out in a rush when Stone turned the corner, sexy as hell in dark jeans and a red plaid shirt with the sleeves rolled up. His hair was wet from his shower, hanging loose over his shoulders.
“Hi.” Shyness and nerves set in. Silly, since he’d already touched just about every inch of her there was to touch.
The banked fire in his eyes flared, and he rushed her, scooping her up in his arms and charging into the apartment. The door banged shut behind them but his mouth was already on hers and Gina didn’t give a damn what her neighbors thought.
His lips were warm, his beard scratchy yet softer than it looked. He devoured her, eating at her mouth with his lips and tongue like he couldn’t get enough. Gina grabbed a handful of his hair with one hand, the other petting the side of his cheek, marveling in the contrasting textures, all while she let him take the lead with the kiss.
She’d spent weeks teaching him to dance. She was tired of leading, and more than ready to relinquish control.
Or maybe not, if it meant taking things slow.
“I want you,” she said against his lips, squirming in his arms. “Get naked.”
They both knew why he was here. No point in playing coy.
“Hell yes.” He glanced at the sofa, where they’d last gotten hot and heavy. “Bedroom?”
“Through there.” She pointed, and he carried her.
It wasn’t strange, being carried by him. He’d picked her up on the day they’d met, had lifted her many times since to practice lifts and holds for their performances. In his arms, she felt safe, protected, cared for. He wouldn’t drop her.
Peligro.
Safe as she felt in his arms, there was still a thread of danger. She pushed it aside. She’d had enough of fighting her desire for him.
They entered her bedroom, and Stone once again kicked the door shut behind them. Laying her down on the bed, he climbed next to her and pulled her close. Her queen mattress had never felt so small.
Her bedroom was lit by a lamp on her side table, casting the space in a soft, warm yellow glow. It invited them to go slowly, to take their time.
Fuck. That.
Gina sat up. Without a word, Stone skimmed her tank top up her ribs and over her head, muttering a reverent curse when he saw the lacy black bra she wore. She smiled, then gasped when he pressed his mouth to her breast through the lace.
“I said, get naked.” She grabbed the back of his shirt.
“Yes, ma’am.”
Gina joined him in undoing the buttons on his shirt. “Why on earth would you wear something so difficult to take off?”
He chuckled. “I was thinking more about getting you undressed.” With a growl, he rolled her over and
tugged on the waistband of the yoga pants she wore. She lifted her hips to help ease the way.
He groaned when he saw her matching lace panties. “Damn, Gina.”
“I put them on just for you.”
He laid a kiss on her hip. “I’m glad to hear you weren’t wearing these for your dance with Jackson.”
“Jealous?”
“Damn right.” He moved up to kiss her lips. “All I could think of this week was our salsa, all the way back in the beginning. It drove me crazy to think of you dancing like that with Jackson.”
“How do you think I felt knowing you were dancing with my roommate?”
Caging her in with his arms, he gazed into her eyes. “She’s not you.”
Warmth spread through her chest, spreading lower when his hand slid down to her hip.
“I missed you.”
Her heart fluttered. “You already told me that.”
“It’s worth repeating.” His fingers plucked at the elastic of her panties. “You make things . . . easier.”
She frowned. “What do you mean?”
“It’s easier to talk with you. Easier to think. Easier to . . . feel.”
His eyes were bottomless ice blue pools, threatening to suck her in. It was more than she could take. Her own emotions were too close to the surface, and it was not easier for her to feel them. Time to shift gears. “You’re still dressed.”
He yanked open his shirt, sending the last button flying.
“I’ll find that later.” Gina knelt on the bed to help him push the fabric over his shoulders. Dragging her hands down the mouth-watering expanse of his muscled torso, she grabbed his belt and undid the buckle. “No interruptions this time.”
“Thank god.” He groaned as she unzipped his jeans.
She reached inside his boxers and took hold of the hard, hot length of him. This was it. The moment of no return. Taking care not to hurt him, she pulled his dick out and stared.
She’d known he was packing. It was impossible to miss it in rehearsal. She’d even touched it a few times by accident during their tango practice—and not always in a good way. Seeing it up close was a whole different story. He was long and thick, hard as . . . no, she would not make that analogy. He was hard as rock, and his pubic hair had been trimmed.
She must have taken too long because he let out a groan and sank his fingers into her hair. “Babe, you’re going to give me a complex.”
“Sorry, I’m just . . . impressed.”
He laughed, then threw his head back when she squeezed the base of his cock. “Gina. Don’t tease me. Please.”
“I won’t.” She leaned down and closed her mouth around his girth. He let out a strangled sound, his fingers flexing in her hair.
“You’re . . .” He cut off and exhaled harshly when she thrust her tongue against him.
She lifted her head and grinned sweetly. “I’m what?”
Grabbing her shoulders, he hauled her up and pressed a hard, desperate kiss to her mouth. “You’re amazing,” he whispered, inches from her face. “Absolutely fucking amazing.”
Her cheeks warmed at his praise, and she took one scary step forward to see how he responded. “I like you, too, Stone.”
His eyes searched hers for a moment, and then he kissed her again, tangling his tongue with hers. It was her turn to groan as he dragged her against him. She pushed at his jeans, and somehow he divested himself of them without breaking their kiss. When he was naked, she pulled back to take in the full view.
“Hot damn.” Her breath exploded out of her as she gazed upon his body in all its glory. “Dude, do you even lift?”
His abs—lord, was that a ten-pack?—trembled as he chuckled. “Your turn.”
He unhooked her bra with one hand while the other tugged her panties down her legs. Finally, they were both naked, with nothing between them. The appreciation in his gaze set her aflame. Gina pressed the full length of her body to his and kissed him, loving the feel of his cock, hot and insistent, against her belly. Why had she fought this for so long?
His mouth left hers to rain kisses and light nibbles down her neck. She leaned into the pillows and closed her eyes, smiling.
His body stilled, and she opened her eyes. He’d paused with his nose stuck to her neck.
“What do you smell like?” he asked.
“Smell like?”
“I’ve been trying to figure it out since we met.” He picked up a lock of her hair and gave it a sniff. “Like flowers, or . . .”
“Hibiscus. My shampoo is hibiscus.”
“Mmm.” He closed his eyes and held a handful of her hair to his face. “I like it.”
She sucked in a breath when he plumped her breasts together and pressed his face into her cleavage, inhaling deeply. “That’s not it, though.”
“Coconut oil.” She barely managed to get the words out as the rough pads of his thumbs scraped over her sensitive nipples. “Head to toe.”
His lips closed around one of her nipples, and his fingers tugged at the other one. “Is that why you’re so soft?”
The warm suction of his mouth, contrasted against the light scrape of his beard and the teasing tickle of his hair, made her moan and writhe on top of the blankets. “Yes.”
When she was arching into his mouth, he shifted up to whisper in her ear, “I’m going to taste you now, Gina.”
His words, and the deep, growly way he said them, gave her a shiver. Yes, please.
She parted her thighs to make room for him to settle between them. His eyes, so blue in the warm lighting, lifted to meet hers as he lowered his head over her. The rest of his body, tanned and toned, stretched out to the edge of the bed.
If she weren’t paranoid about having such things on her phone, she’d take a picture of him right now. As it was, she didn’t think she’d ever forget the way he was looking at her.
Like she was good enough to eat.
He dipped his head between her legs and gave her a light lick.
Gina dropped back onto the pillows and surrendered herself to the sensation.
As he got down to business, he pushed her legs further apart to make room for his massive shoulders.
“Damn, you’re flexible,” he muttered against her pussy.
She lifted the arm she’d thrown over her eyes and gazed down at him groggily. “You already knew that.”
“Just commenting.” He spread her with his thumbs and returned to his task.
With every pull of his lips on her clit, waves of pleasure scattered her thoughts. Every swipe of his tongue on her entrance reformed them to a single point of focus: this man, his mouth, her pussy. From her lips fell a single word, repeated over and over like a chant: yes, yes, yes.
The orgasm shimmered at the edge of her consciousness. Toes curling against his sides, she bowed her body up and gripped handfuls of his hair, crying out his name. “Stone!”
His gaze flicked up to hers, wicked humor in the blue depths. He made a sound of assent in the back of his throat, tongue busy swirling her clit, as if he knew she was close.
“Stone, I’m . . .”
“Uh-huh?”
Squeezing her eyes shut, her muscles tensed, and her hands tightened on his hair. His tongue stoked her higher, and higher, and finally, oh god, finally, she came. She let out a keening moan. Sensation poured through her body, making her tremble and shake, wringing her out and leaving nothing but tingling aftershocks that throbbed through her from end to end.
Sated, spent, she collapsed onto the pillows and fought to catch her breath.
Damn. The man had a mouth on him. But now they were 2 and 0.
He crawled up her body to whisper in her ear. “Condoms, Gina.”
“Bedside.” She flung a hand in the direction of the drawer, which held the condoms she’d snagged from Natasha’s stash. Her eyelids fluttered as Stone rummaged around. A rip of paper, and she opened her eyes in time to see him rolling the latex down his thick, massive length.
It was a go
od thing he’d prepared her so thoroughly.
She flopped like a rag doll as he knelt between her legs. He took himself in hand and notched the head of his cock in her folds.
His blue gaze captured hers. “Ready, Gina?”
“I’ve been ready for two months. Do it.”
He flashed her a grin, and in one smooth move, slid inside her.
She sucked in a breath as he filled her. Oh god.
He didn’t give her time to adjust. Gathering her in his arms, he lifted her into an upright position.
“What are you—?”
He knelt on the bed and pressed one hand to the wall for support. His other arm held her to him, pinned on his cock.
“Ready?” he asked again.
She couldn’t form words this time, and only nodded. His body tightened, all those delicious muscles gilded in the light from her bedside lamp, and thrust.
Tremors of glorious sensation shot through her body, emanating from where they joined. She clung to his sweat-slickened shoulders, her legs locked around his hips. A shiver went through him.
“Damn, Gina,” he ground out, thrusting again. “You’re so fucking tight.”
No words to be had. She moaned in reply.
“So fucking amazing.” He uttered the words with reverence, his cock pumping inside her with each word, as if to punctuate.
“Faster,” she whispered.
His gaze—glued to where they joined—shot up to hers. “You’re sure?”
She bit her lip and nodded.
“You gotta let me know if I’m hurting you,” he said, a note of warning.
“You won’t. Fuck me, Stone.”
Her words unleashed something in him. Curling his body around hers, his powerful hips worked like a piston, back and forth, driving his strong cock deeper with every thrust.
All she could do was hold on for the ride. In this, she let him take the lead, gave him complete control. She was coming apart at the seams and loving every minute of it.
He shifted her—still with the one arm around her waist—and held her closer. The angle rubbed his cock against her clit with each thrust. Her spine bowed. She cried out. Cried out again. And again. Her body shimmered on the edge of ultimate pleasure, the boundary between her skin and his blurring. She was boneless, weightless, utterly supported by his strength and his desire.