“And when we’re not at work?” She held her breath, waiting for his response.
“Let’s play it by ear.”
It wasn’t exactly what she wanted to hear, but given their precarious situation, his suggestion made sense. At least he wasn’t thanking her for a one-night stand and making her feel as if she had only been a pleasant diversion.
“Okay.”
“Okay,” he whispered into her mouth as his body covered hers.
Efficient hands quickly parted the sheet, and his body took what he wanted and gave them both what they needed.
Chapter 8
Damien reclined against the headboard with Natasha lying against his chest. He couldn’t remember ever feeling more contented.
“Thanksgiving is almost here.”
“Yes, it is.” Natasha snuggled closer to him. “It can’t get here soon enough for me. I can’t wait to have a few days off.”
“Sick of work already?”
“No, not at all.” She laughed. “It is just that I can’t wait to see my family. There is nothing like family for the holidays.”
“Agreed.” His fingers trailed across her shoulder. “My parents and sister are going to Washington to visit my uncle.”
She tilted her head to stare at him. “Are you going with them?”
“No, I have too much to do and too little time to do it in.”
“Can’t you at least take one day off?”
“Don’t worry about me,” he laughingly ordered.
“I’m not,” she quickly denied, but she didn’t like the prospect of him spending the holiday alone.
“Good. They’ll be back soon enough, and they’re coming to the premiere. Are your folks still planning on attending?”
“Wild horses couldn’t keep them and Nicole away, but I don’t know about Nathan. We haven’t seen him in four years.”
“Why so long?”
“He works for the State Department as a lawyer and is always in one faraway place or another.” She shrugged. “His career is very important to him.”
“It’s a family trait, I see.”
She frowned. “What do you mean?”
“Just that work is primary in both of your lives.”
“Yes, it has been.”
“Has been?” He watched her closely.
“It is,” she quickly amended.
“All work and no play…”
“Makes Natasha a prepared ballerina,” she smilingly finished.
“You’re an excellent ballerina.”
“Thank you.” She kissed his chest lingeringly before reluctantly moving out of his arms and getting out of bed before he could stop her.
“What are you doing?”
“Dressing.” She bent down and picked up her hastily discarded clothes.
“I can see that.” He sat up. “Why?”
“Because I can’t go back to my room naked, can I?”
“Mmm.” His eyes traveled over her bare body. “I don’t mind.”
“Well, I don’t want to flash anyone else.”
“You’d better not.” He threw back the covers. “It’s true what they say, isn’t it?”
Her toes curled at the possessiveness of his voice. Her eyes dilated at the sight of his splendidly naked body as he got out of bed and took her into his arms.
“What do they say?”
“Time flies—” his fingers entangled in her hair, pulling her head aback “—when you’re experiencing multiple orgasms.”
“Yes,” she said and laughed throatily. “It certainly does.”
“Wanna have some more of this type of fun tomorrow night?”
“I think—” she nibbled at his mouth “—that can be arranged.”
“Good.” He kissed her silly.
“I’m not sorry, Damien,” she vowed against his lips.
“Neither am I.”
She smiled and kissed him briefly before moving out of his arms and going back to her room to get a few hours of sleep before their very early day began.
* * *
The next morning when Damien and Natasha saw each other at rehearsal, it was business as usual. They both acted appropriately, but Rachel sensed a tangible change in her partner.
“What’s up with you, old friend?”
“Nothing.” He glanced at her as she sat on a stool beside him, a short distance from the stage.
“Nothing?” Rachel studied his smiling profile. “Why are you so…giddy?”
Damien arched an eyebrow. “I’ve never been giddy a day in my life.”
Rachel laughed. “Okay, maybe that was the wrong word. How about cheerful?”
“Is it a crime to be cheerful, Rachel?”
“No, of course it isn’t.”
“Natasha, try that combination again,” Damien’s voice rang out. “I want the pirouettes crisper.”
From the stage, a smiling Natasha nodded, waited for the music to start again and began dancing as instructed. His eyes never left his ballerina’s, and he felt Rachel’s speculative gaze continuing to rest on him.
“That was better, but not great. Try it again.”
“Yes, sir.” Natasha acquiesced and started dancing once more.
“So.” Rachel stared at his profile. “What did you do last night?”
“Slept, Mom.” He continued watching Natasha dance. “And you?”
Rachel laughed. “The same.”
“That’s it, Natasha,” Damien finally approved. “Dennis, try it with her.”
He watched her and her partner dance close, and a streak of jealously shot through him, which he quickly tamped down. She had been in his bed last night and would be again tonight. She didn’t want Dennis, and he had to keep his mind on the ballet; his personal feelings for Natasha had no place in this rehearsal hall. Despite his silent dressing down, he paused—his personal feelings for Natasha? Not his desire for her? Desire he could deal with, but feelings? Oh, damn.
“Damien?”
He briefly glanced at Rachel. “What?”
Rachel frowned. “Where were you?”
He scratched his hair-covered chin. “Right here.”
“You seemed miles away.”
“Just concentrating on Natasha and Dennis.”
“Yes.” Rachel smiled knowingly. “I can see that.”
“Rachel…” The way he said her name held a warning.
“Save your bark for someone who cares.” Rachel laughed. “I’ve known you too long, and I know something is definitely going on with you.”
“You have known me a long time,” he agreed. “Long enough to know when you’re getting on my nerves.”
Rachel’s spontaneous resounding laughter caused heads to turn in their direction. Damien’s shoulders noticeably tightened in irritation.
“And you’ve known me long enough to know that I don’t stop until I learn what I want to know,” she smilingly countered when he refused to look at her. “Come on, Damien, tell me about it.”
He frowned. “Tell you about what?”
“What’s causing the change in you—or rather, whom?” When he remained silent, she hypothesized, “Is it Natasha?”
“What does she have to do with anything?”
“I think she has everything to do with the change I sense in you.” She paused thoughtfully before continuing, “You’re different since meeting her.”
“That’s nonsense. I’m the same as I’ve always been.”
“No.” She glanced at his frowning profile thoughtfully. “You’re happier.”
“Of course I’m happy, Rachel.” He spared her a brief, irritated glance. “My ballet is cast, rehearsals are coming along nicely and…�
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“You’ve met Natasha,” she finished for him.
“She’s just a ballerina. Nothing more.”
Before she could continue her inquisition, he stood and walked toward the stage. He was surprised a bolt of lightning didn’t strike him after the out-and-out lie he had just told his best friend—because the one thing Natasha wasn’t was just another ballerina.
* * *
Natasha tightened the belt of her short pink robe before slowly opening the door to her room. Her heartbeat intensified and every nerve ending in her body stood at attention when she saw who was on the other side—although she had instinctively known the identity of her late-night caller before opening the door.
“Damien,” she whispered. “What are you doing here?”
“What do you think?”
He curved a possessive arm around her waist, pressed his mouth to hers and ushered her back inside her room, closing the door behind them. She unbuttoned his shirt and spread her fingers over his tempting, muscled chest. He smiled against her mouth and his tongue sought and found hers, engaging in a slow, sensual duel that intensified the gnawing ache within their lower bodies.
“You shouldn’t be here,” she weakly protested when he released her clinging lips.
“Why not?” His hands ran down her back to her hips, pressing her closer.
“Because—” she sighed at his actions “—it’s too dangerous.”
“No more so than it was last night.”
“You know what I mean.” She ineffectively pushed at his solid shoulders. “Will you stop it?”
His answer was to pull her closer as his fingers maddeningly dug into the soft flesh of her butt. She closed her eyes briefly against the torrential desire flowing through her veins like molten hot lava.
“You don’t want me to.”
“Yes, I…”
His hot mouth silenced the rest of her ridiculous words. The ensuing kiss was completely, wonderfully carnal and singed them both to the core of their beings. Her arms encircled his neck, and she sensually moved her body against his. In response, his mouth opened wider, forcing hers to do the same as the kiss escalated to inferno status. His hands moved to her waist, loosening the belt of her robe and spreading apart the satiny folds so that eager fingers could investigate the warm, responsive flesh beneath. She moaned against his persuasive lips and surrendered to heaven for a few minutes until a knock sounded at her door, followed by another and another still.
“Damn,” he groaned against her sweet mouth, “don’t answer it.”
“I have to.” She pushed out of his arms and placed a hand over her thoroughly kissed lips. “Stay behind the door, and please keep quiet.”
“Don’t answer it,” he whispered in her ear as his arms went around her from behind.
“Damien, stop.” She sighed, moved out of his arms, readjusted her robe and carefully turned the doorknob, opening the door slightly.
“Hi, Natasha. Wanna join a group of us for drinks by the fireplace downstairs?” Simone asked.
“Uh, no.” She fought to suppress a moan as Damien kissed her neck and nibbled at her earlobe. “I’m beat.”
Thankfully, Damien stayed behind the door and out of Simone’s view. His actions, however, were destroying her ability to reason. She bit her lower lip and clinched the doorknob tighter when his fingers wandered under the hem of her robe to touch her inner thigh, sliding upward suggestively.
“Are you okay?” Simone stared at her intently.
“Hmm?” Natasha elbowed Damien in the stomach before firmly asserting, “Yeah, I’m fine. Just tired. Tell everyone I’ll see them tomorrow.”
She reached behind her and removed Damien’s hand from her breast. “I’m just going to crawl into bed and sleep.”
“Okay.” Simone smiled. “See you in the morning. Night.”
“Good night.”
She had no sooner closed the door than Damien’s body pressed her back against it and his mouth captured hers again. His body molded against hers so perfectly that she couldn’t discern where he ended and she began. It should be a first-degree crime for a man to be so sexy and make her want him so much.
“Damien, shame on you.” She placed hands on her hips. “You know we can’t be seen together.”
“I know. I’m just a bad boy.” He lowered his head to sample her soft neck. “What are you going to do with me?”
“I have a mind to…” She closed her eyes as desire washed over her.
“To what?” His voice was muffled against her fragrant skin. “Mmm, you smell good.”
“You feel good.” Her hands ran up and down his muscled chest.
“I know something that feels even better.”
“Yeah?” She backed against the door. “Show me.”
“With pleasure.”
Hungry lips closed possessively over hers, successfully ending any further conversation. Searching hands pulled her silk robe completely apart as he simultaneously backed her into a nearby wall. Fingers trailed across and cupped her breasts, stroking and teasing until she was writhing against him. His hands grabbed hers and directed them to the fly of his jeans, which anxious fingers quickly unzipped, and then together they slid the material down his hips and sheathed him in a condom. His seeking body pressed against and conformed to hers. Strong hands lifted her legs off the floor, hooking them around his waist, and then he plunged into her.
She cried out in shocked pleasure against his hardening lips as he ravaged her. As he intended, talk was forgotten; everything was forgotten as he filled her body, soul and heart. Her arms and legs held him tight as his body took hers intimately. Her eyes closed and she moaned against his mouth. Their desire built and peaked with every movement, every jagged breath until it broke free like water bursting forth from a dam, flooding their hearts and senses with indescribable pleasure, until they were both willingly drowning in a pool of unparalleled hedonistic bliss.
* * *
Several hours later, Natasha and Damien lay close on the bed, limbs intimately entwined. She still didn’t understand how one man could give her everything she needed, but somehow he did. That simple fact frightened and elated her. How had he become so important to her in such a short time, and what was she going to do about her increasing addiction to him and the threat it posed to her career?
She wished she could stay in his arms all night, but logically she knew she couldn’t. He had to return to his room so that they could snatch a few hours of uninterrupted sleep before rehearsals tomorrow. Sighing resignedly, she kissed his chest lingeringly before rolling away from him.
“Where are you going?” He missed her warmth as she got out of bed and donned her robe.
“Nowhere.” She pulled back the cover to reveal his magnificent body and willed her eyes to focus on his face. “But you have to go back to your room.”
He stood. “Why?”
She glanced at the clock that glared out 3:05 a.m. Damn time for refusing to stand still. She didn’t want him to leave her, but they couldn’t be found together.
“Because we need to be up soon for rehearsal.”
She tried to sidestep him, but his arms went around her and pressed her close to his naked body. His lips made a beeline for and played with hers.
“Damien.” Her hands rested on his hard shoulders. “Let me go.”
“Is that what you really want?” he asked against her ear.
“No,” she moaned softly, then more forcefully, “but you know we can’t be found together.”
“I know.”
His mouth sought out hers, but she pushed away from him and took a step back before he could reach his destination.
She bent down, retrieved his pants and handed them to him. He reluctantly pulled on his pants and walked toward her again.
“Kiss me good-night, Tasha.”
“Damien…” She shook her head in remonstration at his innocent expression.
“Really, just a kiss. I won’t even touch you.” To prove his point, he placed his hands behind his back.
“All right,” she smilingly relented, “but then you have to go.”
“I promise.” He crossed his heart and then returned his hand behind his back.
She took a step toward him and placed her hands on his slightly stubbly cheeks, rose up on her tiptoes and brought her mouth into contact with his. She only meant to kiss him lightly, but one touch of his addictive, responsive lips had her leaning into his hard body and going deep and deeper still until she was kissing him lingeringly, achingly, as if she would never stop; long seconds later she reluctantly ended contact and stepped away from temptation.
Despite the desire rocketing through him, as promised, he didn’t touch her. His chest rose rapidly with the effort he was exerting to control himself and keep his hands off her. Neither of them spoke for a few seconds—simply stared longingly at each other, their mutual desire speaking louder than any words. Somehow she tore her eyes away from his, walked to the door, carefully opened it and peered outside before motioning to him.
“Good night.”
He smiled at her actions. “Good night, Tasha.”
He walked through the door without touching her and padded silently down the hallway to his room. Her sad eyes stared after him before she resolutely closed the door and leaned against it, employing every ounce of self-control not to run after him and ask him to stay with her—something she knew he couldn’t do.
Once alone, Natasha sank down onto the bed and curled her legs underneath her, chewing on her lower lip contemplatively. Since she and Damien had finally given in to the inescapable desire, where did they go from here? They wanted each other, that much was certain, yet were they building something tangible, or simply enjoying the here and now? Which did she want—the former or the latter?
Her career was finally going the way she wanted, and she should be concentrating on that—and she was; however, she now also wanted something else in addition to fame—a chance to see where whatever this was she had begun with Damien was heading. What did Damien want? Would their journey from this point on be together, or would they soon part and go their separate ways? That was the problem—she had a million questions and not a single answer.
Our First Dance Page 10