Our First Dance

by Judy Lynn Hubbard

  He kissed her senseless. His ravenous mouth opened wide over hers and demanded wholehearted participation from her, and she matched his ardor measure for measure. His tongue urgently caressed hers, and his hands roamed down her bare back to her hips, pressing her closer to his evident need. She sighed against his marauding lips, which after endless seconds, softened somewhat.

  “I’ve wanted you since the second I laid eyes on you,” he confessed against her mouth.

  “You have?” Anxious fingers unsnapped his jeans and slid across his corrugated lower abdomen. “Really?”

  For an answer, he picked her up effortlessly and laid her down on the bed, dispensing with her sweats and panties until she was finally lying naked before him. As he quickly removed his own clothing, their eyes drank their fill of each other’s bodies. Reaching into the nightstand, he pulled out a condom, tore open the package and donned the protection before lying down beside her, pulling her into his aching arms and kissing her slowly yet passionately. She tasted smooth, silky and spicy. He could feast on her soft, full, addicting lips for hours and never get tired.

  When he lifted his mouth from hers, she inhaled deeply before releasing her breath on a serrated moan when he purposefully bent his head and his hot mouth engulfed one of her firm breasts, giving it the same maddening attention to detail that he had her lips. His hand found her other breast, and her back arched off the bed as his teeth bit into a nipple made pebble hard by his wicked tongue and lips. She shuddered when he rubbed his hairy chin back and forth against the sensitized nubbin.

  Pleading hands ran down his muscled arms and back as his scorching mouth snaked down her writhing body. She almost died on the spot as he, without asking permission, intimately familiarized himself with every inch of her. He pressed his parted lips against her soft, flat stomach, his rough tongue flirting inside her belly button before unhurriedly moving lower, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. Seeking fingers moved to her soft inner thighs, touching fleetingly several times before treating her to a longer caress as he stroked her intimately.

  Her hands flew to the back of his head and held his wicked mouth closer while he trailed wet kisses across her hips before following the path of his fingers to her inner thighs. She bit her lower lip, trying unsuccessfully to contain the groan of pleasure that erupted from her.

  She was sweet, oh so sweet, and she completely and utterly owned him. The last rational thought that raced through his mind was that his wounded heart couldn’t afford to get involved with her and risk injury again, but that sane thought was quickly dispersed by red-hot, maddening desire. He had to have her now; nothing else mattered.

  Everywhere he touched, tiny fires flared until her entire body was a blazing inferno. His lips and hands easily melted the numbing cold indifference she had purposefully encased her heart in for years. She no longer cared what complete surrender would demand from her; only one thing mattered—appeasing the gnawing hunger that had resided in her since she had first danced with Damien.

  “I want heat Tasha,” he groaned against her flesh before his mouth continued its destructive path over her burning skin. “I want you to melt for me.”

  Her hands flew back and grasped the headboard as his tongue pierced her, feasted on her and had her bursting free until she knew nothing but carnal pleasure. She wasn’t aware of anything for a few frenzied moments, and then his hard body covered hers; she felt his unbending naked flesh against her soft yielding form, and she knew she was about to truly blaze.

  Without preamble, anxious hands parted her thighs and he at long last unerringly fused his body with hers. She arched up; her eyes flew open to meet the dark depths of his, and by mutual silent consent they began their long-denied dance of supreme passion.

  God, he felt so wonderful, and he made her feel things she had only read about in books. She had never believed the pretty, sexy prose contained within romance novels, but now experiencing complete union with Damien, how could she not? With him, she was whole; her heartbeat synchronized with his, and she gave up any pretense that somewhere else other than right here, in his arms, was where she was meant to be. He had said he wanted heat, and she seared him and he her with the blinding ferocity of their too-long-denied passion.

  He felt his lips tremble from the moan escaping from her throat, and he reluctantly released her mouth for a second so that the wonderful sound could fill his ears as he filled her body.

  This was perfection. Her slender, strong limbs pulled him closer as she deliberately arched, taking him deeper and deeper. He wanted to ram himself into her, but he forced himself to take her in slow, long, maddening strokes.

  They had both waited too long for this to rush it. He felt her trembling against him, and he almost went insane at the way she enveloped, accepted and vibrated in welcome around him. Oh, that he could stay this way with her forever—he would give up everything he owned if only he could.

  The unbearable, agonizing pressure built within her with each silky kiss and every sensuous movement of his body against hers. She wanted to cry out in triumph and in frustration. He brought her to life with every forceful thrust, each heated kiss and maddening caress. She wanted to prolong the rapture, yet the tension had to be released soon or she would go mad.

  “Tasha,” he groaned against her neck over and over, and her bones melted at his use of the abbreviated form of her name—from now on, she silently vowed, no one would ever call her that except him.

  His body began to move faster and harder against hers, and she met each beautiful thrust, matched each deliberate movement. She allowed her passion-glazed mind to admit that she needed him more than anything else in the world. Her arms and body pulled him closer still. Her melting heart sung at the realization she was now completely his and he was hers. Then all semblance of rationality dissipated as she felt him shake violently against her and she began to shudder with him as they finally found blessed release and utter fulfillment.

  When he could breathe again, he reluctantly shifted off her welcoming body and reclined on his back. Natasha turned onto her side and molded herself to him, laying her head on his shoulder. His fingers trailed down her arm to rest on her hip, before moving up her spine and then back down again.

  Her fingers traced lazy circles on his smooth chest that her lips and tongue just had to imitate. She smiled when he groaned at her actions and the hand resting on her hip pulled her closer against him. For the first time in her life, she felt whole, completely relaxed and content.

  She lightly ran her fingers up the faint two-inch scar on his right hip and similar vertical scar across his lower back.

  “What happened here?” He tensed noticeably and she immediately regretted her question.

  “Accident,” he shortly replied.

  She held back further questions and instead remained silent, caressing his back and kissing his chest until she felt him relax again. Obviously, it was a painful memory for him—one she hoped he would share with her in time.

  They stayed that way a long time, not talking, but just touching, caressing and enjoying being so close. She never wanted to move again. How could one man encompass her entire world? She didn’t know, but Damien did just that; that realization frightened her, but it also empowered her with a sense of belonging and peace unlike any she had ever known.

  Natasha closed her eyes and pressed closer to Damien’s slightly hairy chest, basking in the warm afterglow of their lovemaking. She would be content to never move from his strong arms.

  “You haven’t had many lovers, have you?”

  Damien’s out-of-the-blue inquiry elicited a gasp from her. “What?”

  “You heard me.” He tenderly stroked her back.

  “Why are you asking me about that now?”

  “I’m curious.”

  “Now?”

  He chuckled softly. “Now’s as good a ti
me as any, don’t you agree?”

  She didn’t. Frankly, she thought his timing stank.

  “No, I don’t.”

  “Tasha, come up here so I can see you.”

  “No.” She resisted his efforts to bring them to eye level, burying her face in his chest instead.

  He laughed softly and fingered her hair. “Don’t get shy on me now.”

  “Why do you want to know about my past lovers?”

  He tenderly answered, “Because it’s obvious you haven’t been with a lot of men.”

  “Oh.” That tiny word encompassed a lot of emotion. “So you weren’t satisfied?”

  “I was very satisfied,” he assured, adding arrogantly, “as were you.”

  “I was.” Emboldened by his words, she kissed his chest.

  “I know.” He ran his palm down her back. “You were surprised by the amount of pleasure you experienced, which made me curious about your past lovers,” he explained his previous question.

  She found the courage to slide up against his body until her head lay beside his on the pillow. She didn’t find smugness or condescension in his handsome face, which gave her the courage to answer his question. After the intimacies they had just shared, it was silly to feel shy with him now.

  “I’ve had two lovers,” she admitted on a sigh. “One was my high school boyfriend, who was my first.”

  “And the other?”

  “A dancer.” She lowered her eyes. “Four years ago.”

  “What happened?” He placed a hand under her chin, lifting her eyes to his again.

  She shrugged. “In a nutshell, he was a lying, cheating asshole.”

  “What did he do to you?”

  The concern in his eyes gave her the courage to continue. “He pretended to be interested in me.”

  “Pretended how?”

  “What he really wanted was my nice Manhattan apartment in lieu of his Bronx basement, my huge bank account instead of his nonexistent one and the never-ending luxuries he expected me to constantly heap upon him instead of having to save all month just to afford eating out at a mediocre restaurant,” she bitterly recounted.

  “What a bastard!”

  Her heart warmed at his vehement declaration. “He was absolutely.”

  “Tell me his name—” his eyes darkened dangerously “—and I’ll take care of him for you.”

  “Damien, you will not,” she laughingly admonished.

  “Try me.” He grinned, only half kidding.

  “I appreciate the offer.” She touched his face. “But I’ve long since forgotten about what’s-his-name.”

  “I’m sorry that happened to you.”

  She shrugged. “It’s all right. It was a valuable lesson.”

  “Yes.” His eyes clouded. “The ones that hurt the most are the most valuable.”

  “Speaking from experience?”

  “Definitely.”

  She kept her tone light. “Care to elaborate?”

  “No.” He reclined on his back. “Not really.”

  “Come on, Damien. I just bared my soul to you.”

  “And I appreciate it.”

  She supported herself on one elbow and glanced down at his unreadable expression as he stared at the ceiling. She wanted to press him but decided against it for now. She knew enough about Damien to realize it was hard for him to open up—even to a woman who had done just that to him. She understood keeping oneself closed off better than most.

  Her fingers traced his furrowed brow. “Are you okay?”

  “Yes.” He laughed and gazed at her. “I’m fine.”

  “Good.” She snuggled closer. They were silent for a few minutes, and her next words were spoken primarily to hear his response. “We shouldn’t have let this happen.”

  “No, we shouldn’t have. My number one rule is never to get involved with my employees.”

  Absurdly, his honest agreement wasn’t what she wanted to hear—not while they lay so close that she could feel his heart beating against her. She lifted her head to gaze into his unreadable eyes.

  “Then why are we here?”

  “Pure animal lust is a very powerful thing.”

  “Lust?” She balked at his choice of words.

  He trailed a finger down her cheek. “I’ve upset you.”

  “Why would that upset me?”

  She tried to sound causal, but the hurt in her voice was clearly evident. Suddenly, she wished she could disappear.

  “I’m just trying to be honest, Tasha.”

  “You have been.” She averted her eyes. “I should go.”

  “Yes, you should.”

  She stiffened and tried to get out of bed; however, he placed an arm around her waist, pulling her back down to his side.

  “How can I go if you won’t release me?”

  His arm tightened and he kissed her shoulder. “I said you should go, not that I wanted you to go.”

  “So, your lust hasn’t been satisfied?”

  “No,” he smiled decadently. “Has yours?”

  “I don’t want to play games with you, Damien.”

  “Neither do I.” He nibbled at her collarbone.

  “This was a mistake.” She tried unsuccessfully to free herself. “Let’s not prolong it.”

  He turned her onto her back. “It may be a mistake, but I definitely want to prolong it. Don’t you?”

  “Damien…” Her voice trailed off as he cupped a breast.

  “Yes.” He smiled, whisking his thumb across her nipple.

  “Stop that.”

  “Stop what?” His thumb continued to rub her nipple maddeningly. “This?”

  “Yes.” She sighed breathily.

  “You sure about that?”

  “Yes, I… Oh!” His mouth took the place of his hand for several tantalizing moments.

  “Let’s throw caution to the wind and break the rules one more time, Tasha.”

  She didn’t get the chance to agree or disagree, because his focused body covered hers and his seeking mouth sank into hers, effectively silencing any response she might make.

  * * *

  An hour later, Natasha sat on the edge of the rumpled bed wearing one of Damien’s T-shirts. He was in the kitchen preparing an after-midnight snack. She silently prayed morning would never come because when it did, reality would rear its ugly head. She glanced at the clock; it was a little before two and she would have to return to her room soon, but not quite yet. They still had a little time together as a man and a woman.

  She smiled as Damien entered the bedroom with a tray in his hands. His black robe was opened down to his stomach. Her heart lurched at the sight of him so devilishly handsome, so decadently desirable, and for tonight he was one hundred percent hers.

  His eyes intercepted her appreciative gaze and he smiled. Without hesitation, he placed the tray on the bedside table and pulled her into his arms.

  “Damien…” she whispered in slight protest. “I’m hungry.”

  His mouth covered hers hotly, sweetly, effectively silencing her. She felt his fingers insinuating beneath her shirt and easily pulling it off. Despite her declaration of hunger, eager fingers undid his robe and pushed it off his broad shoulders until it joined her shirt. Their limbs entangled intimately as mouths and tongues mated wildly.

  “I’m hungry too.” Purposeful hands lifted her hips until he filled her. “Ravenous.”

  She groaned against his mouth, “Take me now.”

  Food was forgotten, everything was forgotten except this never-ending need they had for each other that would no longer be denied.

  * * *

  Much later, Natasha nibbled on Damien’s neck. “This is heaven.”

  “You wo
n’t get an argument from me.” His hand went behind her head, holding her wandering mouth closer. “Tasha, that feels so good,” he whispered against her ear.

  “How good?” Her voice was muffled by his flesh.

  “Very.”

  After several more nibbles at his skin, she pulled back slightly. “We really should talk seriously, I suppose.”

  His fingers ran through her soft hair, drawing her lips inexorably toward his waiting, hungry ones. He loved the feel of every inch of her against every corresponding part of him. Suddenly his fingers froze and his entire body tensed.

  Natasha stared into his stressed face. “What’s the matter, Damien?”

  He sighed before admitting, “It just occurred to me that I forgot to use a condom the last time.”

  “It’s all right,” she assured him. “I’m on the pill.”

  His features relaxed considerably. “I shouldn’t have been so careless.”

  “Why were you?”

  “Because—” appreciative eyes traversed her beautiful face “—I couldn’t wait to get my hands on you.”

  “That’s a good reason,” she approved.

  “I’m usually very conscientious about using protection.”

  “I believe you.”

  “You make me lose control—completely.”

  “Ditto.” They were quiet for a while before she asked, “Damien, what are we going to do?”

  She didn’t want to bring this up now, but they did need to talk. They had to think about how they were going to act around the rest of the troupe now that they were no longer only employer and employee.

  He sighed. “This ballet is important to both of us.”

  “It is, yes.”

  “Then I suggest we keep our new relationship between us. When we’re at work, we keep it strictly professional.”