Our First Dance

by Judy Lynn Hubbard

  Chapter 9

  A week later, they returned to the hustle of New York. Since the retreat, Natasha and Damien had grown closer, and for the first time she was seriously contemplating trying to juggle a romantic relationship alongside her career.

  After an unusually grueling day of rehearsals, Natasha tiredly reached her apartment around 8:45 p.m. As she exited the elevator, she wished she had taken Damien up on his dinner invitation. This was the first night they were spending apart in eight days, and she missed him already. Idiot, you can do without him for one night. Lord knows the rest would do them both good.

  Sighing, she turned the key to unlock the door and stopped in her tracks when she found the object of her thoughts, Damien, dressed in a meticulous navy suit and standing beside an elegantly set candlelit table for two.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “Since it would be unwise for us to be seen in a restaurant—” he smiled “—I thought I’d surprised you with a gourmet dinner here.”

  She dropped her gym bag onto a chair and pulled the band from her hair. His elegant attire made her all the more conscious of her own shabby dress of sweats and sneakers.

  “You definitely surprised me.” She dropped her keys on the table and approached him. “Is this why you had Rachel take over the last hour of rehearsal?”

  He grinned. “Yeah, I had to get my surprise ready.”

  Natasha echoed his smile. “How did you get in here?”

  “I bribed the super.”

  “You didn’t.” She shook her head reproachfully.

  “Oh yes, I did.”

  She chuckled. “How much did it cost you?”

  “I’m not telling.” He kissed her lingeringly. “It might make you too conceited.”

  “Mmm.” She wound her arms around his neck. “Maybe I should give you a key so you won’t have to resort to such drastic measures again.”

  She held her breath and waited for his response to her spontaneous offer. She hadn’t meant to say that, but she meant it nonetheless. She stared unwaveringly into his intense eyes as he contemplated her words.

  “Maybe you should,” he spoke after several seconds of contemplative silence.

  She sighed inwardly at his agreement, glad she hadn’t freaked him out. They smiled at each other before their mouths met in a searing, thorough kiss. Natasha’s face registered surprise when he pulled back.

  “Now go and change.” He pushed her toward the bedroom. “You’ll find everything you need laid out on your bed.”

  “What have you done?” She laughed and walked toward the bedroom.

  “You’ll see.”

  In her room she found a gorgeous white sleeveless gown and matching pumps. She fingered the sheer, expensive fabric and shook her head in wonder before traipsing happily into the bathroom to shower.

  About half an hour later, she emerged wearing the figure-hugging gown that accentuated all of her curves and drew attention to her rounded breasts. She left her hair loose and flowing the way he liked it.

  His mouth dropped open at her entrance. Gazing at the beauty before him, he felt as if he had been punched hard in the stomach. Damn, she was beautiful, and he was completely enthralled by her. After several silent, electric seconds, he walked over and took her hand.

  “You look like a goddess.” He handed her a single white rose.

  “Thank you.” She sniffed her flower and ran a hand down her hip. “This gown is exquisite.”

  He shook his head. “It was just an old scrap until you put it on. You make the gown, not the other way around.”

  She basked in his warm, appreciative gaze. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” He kissed the back of her hand.

  “How did you know my size?”

  “Natasha—” he grinned wickedly “—I’ve explored every inch of you. There’s nothing about your body that I don’t know.”

  Her mouth dropped open in shock, and he laughed at her obvious discomfiture. He placed a hand under her chin and kissed her briefly.

  “Shall we eat?”

  “Yes.” She found her voice again and followed him to the table and sat down in the chair he held out for her. “This is too much.”

  “You’re too much.” He poured her some champagne and raised his glass in a toast. “To us.”

  “To us,” she smilingly echoed.

  They ate the wonderful lobster dinner he had ordered from one of the most expensive restaurants in the city with gusto. Laughing, touching and gazing at each other anticipatorily were things they did frequently during their delicious meal.

  “When did you have time to do all of this?”

  “That’s my secret.” He added with a wink, “Just as long as you’re sufficiently impressed.”

  “Oh, I definitely am.” She laughed and then sobered. “You’re too good to me.”

  Intense eyes locked on hers. “Am I good for you?”

  “Yes.” She released her breath silently. “Yes, I think you are.”

  He smiled in approval. “Dance with me.”

  “I’d love to.” She took his hand, stood and went willingly into his arms.

  The soft romantic music that filled the air was another layer to the sexual excitement that was steadily developing within them. Each knew it would soon have to be released, and they anticipated that culminating moment as much as they were savoring the delicious buildup to it.

  She inhaled deeply. He smelled wonderfully of expensive cologne and his own unique scent that she had rapidly become accustomed to. She had no doubt she could find him in the dark easily. Their bodies fit perfectly together—she couldn’t wait to get as close to him as humanly possible. She ached for him with her heart, body and soul.

  The hands on her waist moved lower to her hips, pulling her so tight that she felt every hard inch of him, especially the bulge in his groin. Her eyes darkened to match his as they barely moved. One of her hands stroked the back of his neck, eliciting a growl from deep within him; she smiled and pressed enticingly closer while simultaneously biting his lower lip and pulling it into her hungry mouth.

  He easily picked her up until her feet dangled in midair and fused his mouth with hers. The kiss they shared was hot, heavy and illicit. They tilted their heads this way and then that as they deepened the kiss to the point of complete incineration. They both were trembling when their lips broke contact long minutes later.

  “Natasha, I want you,” he growled against her mouth.

  “How much?”

  “Want me to show you?”

  “Yes.” She sighed the word and wound her arms tighter around his neck. “I don’t want this night to end.”

  “Who says it has to?” He softly kissed her sweet lips.

  “Stay with me.” Her eyes pleaded with his.

  “Do you really think—” he kissed her soundly “—I planned to leave you tonight?”

  “I’d kill you if you did.”

  He smiled at her whispered threat, picked her up and carried her into the bedroom. He sat her down by the bed, and their mouths drifted together. Sure hands connected with and slowly pulled down the zipper of her dress and pulled the now-offensive material from her until she was naked in his arms. He released her mouth and pulled back slightly to stare at her perfect milk chocolate flesh. A finger slowly encircled a hard nipple, and at her quick indrawn breath, his thumb rubbed across the protruding peak.

  Her fingers easily dispensed with his tie, shirt and jacket before moving to his belt and zipper of his pants. She was trembling with anticipation when at long last they stood before each other without the distasteful barrier of their clothing. As he leisurely caressed her breasts, her fingers danced across his muscled chest before sliding low to his corrugated stomach and lower still unti
l, hot and hard, he filled her hands. She tortured him with ardent caresses before his hands pushed hers aside to put on a condom.

  Suddenly they were on the bed and his body was pressing hers into the mattress. His mouth engulfed hers while his fingers entwined with hers, and he easily kept her hands anchored above her head while he excruciatingly, slowly joined their burning bodies into one.

  She pulled against his fingers, but he refused to release her hands, holding her captive, preventing her from touching him. She whimpered against his mouth, her body arched against his supreme hardness, and she fought to maintain her sanity.

  He was intent on making slow, maddening love to her. His powerful body stroked her straining one slowly, refusing to be rushed by her or by the gnawing hunger consuming them. She tried again to free her hands, but his response was to tighten his grip on her fingers.

  “I want you to go insane with me,” he whispered into her mouth. “Absolutely, completely insane.”

  She was already there; couldn’t he tell? It was maddening and exhilarating being unable to caress him with her hands, and so she settled on using the contracting walls of her body to drive him to a fever pitch that had him hoarsely crying out as he lowered her arms to each side of her head, his fingers still clasped around hers. She thought she would go stark, raving mad from the exquisite slow torture and the unparalleled pleasure he subjected her to—and she did long minutes later; he joined her as their bodies began to shake violently for suspended minutes before finally stilling as rapturous release thundered through them.

  His head rested in the crook of her neck. Her hands now free, fingers strummed down his spine, eliciting an incoherent groan and spasmodic tremor from her lover. She smiled contentedly and held him close as their breathing slowly returned to normal.

  She had never felt so cherished or special. He had just taken a huge chunk of her previously guarded heart tonight, and there was absolutely nothing she could have done to stop him; she hadn’t even wanted to try.

  They fell asleep in each other’s arms, completely content and absolutely satisfied.

  * * *

  Natasha hadn’t seen Damien since he had forced himself to leave her arms several hours ago back at her apartment. They had shared a wonderfully romantic night—one neither had wanted to end. Inevitably, though, a new day had dawned, sending them back into their roles of employee and employer, which both knew were necessary yet were beginning to resent. It was four-thirty in the morning, and she hadn’t seen Damien on her way into the building; she wondered if he was here yet.

  Natasha smiled dreamily as she remembered the magical time she and Damien had spent together. When she entered the practice room, she was met by Erina who quickly sent her into her morning workout routine.

  “Natasha!” Erina’s sharp voice rang out when she stumbled.

  “I’m sorry.” Natasha tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

  Erina sighed. “Concentration, Natasha. Where is your mind?”

  “I guess I’m not fully awake yet.”

  “Then I will just have to work you harder to shake off, how do you say, the cobwebs,” Erina darkly promised.

  Natasha’s mouth set in determination. “I’m focused now.”

  “We shall see.”

  Natasha sighed at Erina’s stern tones informing that her coach wasn’t happy with her at the moment. With much effort, Natasha forced her thoughts away from Damien and focused on following Erina’s instructions.

  “Very good, Natasha,” Erina approved fifteen minutes later. “Now you are concentrating.”

  “I told you I would.” Natasha wiped perspiration from her forehead with the back of her hand and glanced toward the open door.

  “Why do you keep looking at the door?”

  “I’m not,” Natasha quickly denied.

  “Are you expecting for someone?”

  “No.”

  “Mr. Johnson seems taken with you.”

  Erina’s out-of-the-blue comment took Natasha completely by surprise. Natasha was careful to keep her expression blank when she turned to face the keen eyes of her coach.

  “Does he?” She fought to hide her pleasure at her observation. “I hadn’t noticed.”

  “I see my observation pleases you.”

  “No, I…” Natasha paused and changed course. “Well, of course I want him to be happy with my dancing.”

  “Of course.” Erina continued to watch her closely. “You seem different, Natasha.”

  “I do?” Natasha deliberately sat on the floor and stretched until her hands were touching her toes, forcing her eyes from her coach’s perceptive ones. “How?”

  “You’re more comfortable in your skin, carefree and happier than I have ever seen you.”

  “Of course I am.” Natasha rose with both arms stretched high above her head, eyes focused on the ceiling. “I’m finally going to dance the lead. I’m a part of a world-famous company and…”

  “You have met Mr. Johnson.”

  Natasha lowered her arms and performed waist stretches to the right and then to the left sides. “That wasn’t what I was going to say.”

  “No?” Erina watched her closely. “It is the truth, though, is it not?”

  “Of course I’m glad I met Damien.” Natasha chose her words carefully. “He’s giving me my big break.”

  “True, but his main effect on you has been personal instead of professional, no?”

  Natasha avoided her mentor’s keen eyes and stretched down again. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “Then I will spell it out for you. You are interested in him.”

  “No, I’m not.” Her denial rang out quickly—a little too quickly to be believed, especially by someone who knew her as well as Erina did.

  “You do not have to lie to me.”

  “I’m not. I…”

  “Look at me,” Erina softly ordered and smiled lovingly when Natasha slowly complied. “You are like my daughter. I have known you almost your entire life, you cannot fool me.”

  “I know.” She smiled softly.

  “Then why are you trying to?” Erina chided. “Tell me what is going on with you.”

  “Damien and I are…friends.”

  “There are friends, and there are friends.”

  “Erina, my feelings for Damien are appropriate.”

  She prayed her coach would leave it at that. Of course, she didn’t.

  “Natasha.” Erina sat down beside her and placed a hand on her arm. “You have worked so hard to achieve the success that is within your grasp now.”

  “I have.” She nodded positively.

  “Don’t throw it all away by crossing a line that you know should not be crossed.”

  It was way too late for that piece of advice. However, she didn’t tell Erina that—though she sensed the wise woman was aware of that fact.

  “I appreciate your advice, Erina. You know that.”

  “I do.” Erina squeezed her hand comfortingly before continuing, “I know Mr. Johnson is a handsome, fascinating man.”

  “But?”

  “But—” she patted both her hands “—There is no room for two great passions in a ballerina’s life.”

  “I know,” Natasha softly agreed. “I know.”

  She unblinkingly met the concern in Erina’s eyes. She was right, and she knew it. She knew what she should do, but for once in her life, it contradicted mightily with what she wanted to do.

  * * *

  Natasha entered her apartment and sank wearily down onto the sofa. Damien had been an absolute taskmaster today, and she had loved every second of it. He never let any of his dancers get away with being mediocre or lazy—a fact she absolutely applauded him for. She had learned more working with him the past weeks than
she had in years with other directors, and she was without a doubt a much better dancer and person because of him.

  She stretched out her legs and plopped her aching feet down on the glass table in front of the sofa, sighing wearily. As soon as she could move, she planned a hot bath and then a date with her warm, inviting bed. She and Damien weren’t seeing each other tonight, and frankly, tired as she was, she wished they were; she had quickly become an addict where he was concerned, but it was an addiction she would happily never break. She smiled, stretched her arms over her head and closed her eyes as memories of the sweet, scandalous night she and Damien had shared last night washed over her.

  She jumped at the sudden ringing of the doorbell and sprinted to open it. A welcoming smile lit up her face as she flung the door open, expecting to find Damien, but instead she received the surprise of her life.

  “Nicole!” Natasha squealed in joy, enfolding her sister in a warm embrace.

  They were the same height and coloring, though Nicole’s shape was a bit more curvaceous than was Natasha’s. They had often been mistaken for twins, although Nicole was two years her junior.

  “Hi, sis.” Nicole squeezed her hard.

  “What are you doing here?” Natasha pulled her inside.

  “I couldn’t wait to see you.” Nicole took off her hat and coat and placed them over a chair. “I decided to come into Manhattan, do some shopping and surprise you.”

  “I’m so glad you did.” Natasha affectionately took her sister’s hands in hers. Her eyes widened as they beheld the short tresses curling attractively around her sister’s face. “Nicole, your hair!”

  “Please, don’t mention it.” Nicole shook her head in exasperation. “Momma still almost cries every time she sees me.”

  “I like it.” Natasha ran fingers through the short locks that framed her angelic face.

  “Really?” Nicole self-consciously touched the hair at her nape. “So do I. Who needs all that hair?”