Read Dance of Seduction Page 14


  “I thought—”

  “And have you forgotten about that orgasm you gave me last night? Since we’re being so honest here, I want you to know I’ve never come that hard in my life.”

  Her admission hung in the air, mingling with the long gust of air she exhaled from her lungs. Sparks flew from her eyes as her heart thudded against her ribs. God, it felt good to say that.

  As shock filled his face, power surged through her. She’d gotten to him. Caught him off-guard. Caused some of his irritating self-control to chip. And it felt great.

  “Now what’s second?” she asked, crossing her arms in a tight vice over her chest.

  He coughed again. “What do you mean?”

  “You said the apology was first. So what the hell is second?”

  He shifted, looking uncomfortable. “Well, we did have a deal, remember?”

  She arched both eyebrows.

  “At your house, you said I give you one night and you’d come home. Well, I did my part and now it’s your turn to—”

  “Excuse me?” she interrupted. “You most certainly didn’t do your part. I asked for one night. I got a five-minute fuck and then you rushed off without even saying goodbye.”

  “Damn it, Ellie. Like you said, you got what you wanted, right?”

  Pure ice pumped through her bloodstream. “Seeing your back as you stumbled out the door was not what I wanted. Which means the deal’s off, Luke. Not only is it off, but it won’t be on the table again, I can guarantee that.”

  She wasn’t sure if his face was red with frustration or anger, but she didn’t care. Lifting her chin, she shuffled past him, all the while feeling his gaze burning into her back.

  “I need to get on stage,” she announced without turning around. She didn’t dare to look at him, didn’t want to see his expression or hear his arguments.

  For the first time in weeks, she’d shown Luke Russell exactly who was boss.

  I’ve wanted you for fifteen years.

  The words ran through Luke’s head as he strode toward a table near the stage and sank down. Damn, he needed to sit, his body still winded from Ellie’s confession. He wasn’t a stranger to surprises—life as a bodyguard was full of them—but he couldn’t remember ever being this stunned.

  Fifteen years? She’d wanted him for that long? He’d always suspected she had a crush on him when she was a kid, but once she hit her teens, he figured she’d gotten over it. When she’d fallen in love with Whelan, it had been as much as confirmed. And now she decided to tell him she’d wanted him all along?

  Like you didn’t know.

  After days of ignoring the nagging little voice in his head, he finally listened to it. He knew he affected her, had known it since the night he’d kissed her out in the alley, when her warm needy response had been evident. Last night, too, she’d responded. He remembered cupping her dampness, hearing her breathy moans, the feel of her hand on his erection, the way her wet heat had clamped against him. Her cries of pleasure as she came.

  He’d run out of there thinking he’d hurt her, used her, but the memory of her encouraging gaze and soft pleas told a different story.

  She’d wanted him as much as he’d wanted her.

  Luke fought back a wave of desperation as the lights dimmed and the curtains lifted. Damn it. He didn’t like being left hanging. Didn’t like having to sit here and think about Ellie’s bombshell. Analyze what it meant and why it made him feel so…happy.

  And he certainly didn’t like the way she’d made their agreement null and void based on a stupid technicality. So he hadn’t stayed the night. She’d still gotten what she’d wanted. Still taken a sledgehammer to all the control he’d built over the years and utterly demolished it. He wondered how he’d ever explain this to Josh. I had sex with your little sister but she still won’t come home.

  Fortunately he was pretty sure Josh didn’t own a gun.

  Shaking his head, he forced everything out of his mind and focused his gaze on the stage. The dancers were doing a routine that reminded him of A Chorus Line. High kicks, sexy spins and a lot of ass wiggling.

  “Look at the ass on that one.”

  The man at the neighboring table turned to Luke with a massive leer on his pudgy face. Luke’s nostrils flared as he followed the man’s extended finger and saw one of the dancers shake her mesh-covered bottom. “You know,” he couldn’t help but snap, “she has a name. A face too.”

  The man cocked his head and grinned in Luke’s direction. “With a body like that, who gives a damn about her face?”

  He breathed deeply, willing his anger to dissolve. A barrage of comebacks bit at his tongue but he finally decided the balding, middle-aged creep wasn’t worth it. He turned away, ignoring the man next to him and trying to ignore how sexy Ellie looked up on that stage. When a flash of movement from the doorway caught his attention, he shifted his gaze completely.

  Was that…? Why yes it was. The Latin heartthrob Ellie had gone out with a couple days ago walked through the door, followed by a shorter, light-skinned man. Luke’s eyebrows shot up to his forehead as the two men walked, hand-in-hand, toward a booth across the room and sat down. Disbelief creased his features.

  The little witch.

  He choked back a laugh as the memory of Ellie dancing with her date flashed across his brain. Had he been too consumed with jealousy to pick up on the guy’s more than obvious sexual orientation, or was he just an idiot? Or maybe Ellie Dawson simply knew him too well.

  He shook his head, unable to fight the grin that swept over his face. He had to hand it to her, she was good. She’d played him like a fiddle. That date had been nothing but a farce and he’d fallen for it.

  And yet instead of being angry with her, he was left feeling impressed by her sneakiness and desperately relieved that the other man had never been a threat to him.

  It was the latter emotion that troubled the hell out of him.

  As the other dancers bustled into the dressing room Ellie hung back. She rubbed her forehead, suddenly feeling light-headed. Not to mention absolutely hollow inside. When she’d walked off the stage she’d seen Vivian standing at the bar and for a moment their gazes had locked. Her friend’s silent plea had tugged at Ellie’s heart, made her want to rush over to Viv and give her a hug. But she hadn’t been able to do it, not when she still couldn’t stop those feelings of betrayal from pulsing through her.

  Not only had Vivian fired her but she’d lied about Josh being in town, and that wasn’t something Ellie could get over so easily. Or quickly.

  Hugging her chest with her arms, she walked toward the back doors and stepped into the alley, needing to breathe in the cool night air. She had to collect her thoughts, figure out what she was going to do now that she didn’t have a job. Now that everything was up in the air with Luke.

  God, what am I doing here?

  Out of nowhere, a wave of homesickness so powerful, so torrential, crashed over her body. The light evening breeze snaked through her hair, ruffled her skimpy costume and made her shiver. She missed San Francisco, she missed her old life, and for the first time in months, the urge to pack up and go home was stronger than ever.

  She thought about her ballet days, the elegant venues she’d danced in, women in sparkling jewels, men who appreciated the art rather than the bodies involved. The applause and the praise, the red roses thrown at her feet, the orchestra members in the pit. She may have lost that part of her life but Vivian’s words in the dressing room reminded her that it didn’t have to be over. You could be an instructor, open up your own ballet school.

  “Ellie?” She turned to see Luke standing at the back door with a concerned look on his face. “Why are you crying?”

  Startled, she lifted her hand to her face and felt the moisture there. When had she started crying?

  “I…” Her throat tightened. “I don’t know.”

  Before she could blink Luke was beside her. He drew her into his arms and held her against his chest, his embrace
filling her body with warmth. “I can’t stand to see you cry,” he murmured, pressing his face against the top of her head.

  Her tears soaked through the cotton of his shirt and yet she still wasn’t quite sure why she was crying in the first place. Maybe it was because her entire world had crumbled beneath her again, slid away like grains of sand through her fingers. She didn’t have a reason to be in this town anymore. No job, no Vivian to depend on. And it made her feel so damn helpless.

  As a small sob slipped out of her mouth, Luke ran his hands over her trembling shoulders and threaded his fingers through her hair. Then he planted a feather-light kiss on her forehead and whispered, “Come on, baby, let me take you home.”

  “Here, I hope I made it the way you like it.” Luke handed her a steaming mug of tea before joining her on the sofa.

  She thanked him and accepted the cup, then moved into a cross-legged position and took a long sip. The warm liquid slid down her throat and soothed her insides. When they’d returned to the bungalow she’d changed into a pair of comfortable sweatpants, a faded old T-shirt and thick wool socks, but for some reason she still felt cold.

  “Why do you think Viv lied to me about Josh?” she asked softly.

  A pained look entered Luke’s gray eyes as he shifted in his seat. “Honestly? I think there’s something going on between the two of them.”

  She nearly dropped her mug. “Are you serious?”

  Luke shrugged. “It’s just a feeling.”

  Ellie set down her cup, leaned back and laced her fingers together. Josh and Vivian? No. That didn’t make any sense. Though she loved them both deeply, she couldn’t imagine them as a couple. Josh was uptight and rigid, while Vivian was the most adventurous free spirit Ellie had ever met. What did they even have in common? And if there was something between them, why hadn’t Vivian told her?

  As if reading her thoughts, Luke’s low voice broke through the silence. “Vivian cares about you. She never meant to hurt you or lie to you.”

  “Well, she did.” She swallowed back the lump of pain clogging her throat. “I can’t believe she fired me.”

  “Ellie, about that…” His tone faltered. “Vivian’s not the only one to blame for that.”

  She snapped to attention. “What do you mean?”

  “I kind of asked her to do it.”

  “You!” Disbelief filled her face before dissolving into triumph. “I knew it. Viv denied it but deep down I knew she wouldn’t have done it unless someone else talked her into it.”

  With a low-pitched growl she shot to her feet, fighting the ridiculous urge to kick him in the shin.

  “I don’t appreciate your meddling.” She crossed her arms over her chest and sent a glare in his direction. “Or the way you went behind my back.”

  “Oh really?” he shot back. “Well, look who’s turned into a hypocrite.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “It means, Elenore, the next time you want to make me jealous by pretending to have a date, make sure the eligible bachelor isn’t gay.”

  Her jaw dropped. What…how…how had he known? The little smirk on his face told her he’d figured out all about Miguel, though for the life of her she didn’t know how he’d done it. Miguel had been more than convincing. Hadn’t he?

  She stared at Luke, suddenly reminded of the way he’d held her in the alley, how she’d felt cradled in his strong arms. And he’d called her Baby, she remembered that too. But what did it mean? What did she want it to mean?

  She searched his smoky gray eyes, wondering what he was feeling. Had he called her that just to comfort her? Or was there more to it?

  Overwhelmed by the possibilities, she stepped toward him. Swept her gaze over his face, the dark stubble on his powerful jaw, the tiny lines around his mouth. A shiver danced through her body as she watched him. He met her eyes, dropped his gaze to her lips, then back up. Neither of them spoke. They didn’t have to. Since the second she’d admitted her attraction to him back in her dressing room she’d known how this night would end.

  With a burst of confidence, she reached for his hand and gently pulled him to his feet. She held her breath, waiting, then released it when he ran his thumb along her jaw line. “I thought you said all deals are off the table,” he murmured.

  “This isn’t a deal or a game to me anymore,” she whispered. “And I need to know it’s not that way for you either.”

  Chapter Eleven

  “God help me, but it isn’t.” Luke’s rough voice made her tingle. So did the way he continued stroking her face. “I’m sick of games.”

  “Me too.”

  He cupped her chin with his warm hands and she almost melted into a puddle on the floor. “I want you.” He dipped his head and ran his lips over the curve of her neck, planting wet kisses along her fevered skin. “Since the second I saw you that first night at the club. I’ve tried to fight it.”

  She shivered as he moved his mouth to her ear and kissed it. “Are you still fighting?”

  He slid his hands to her waist and pulled her to him. Made sure she could feel the hard ridge of his erection against her belly.

  “Does it feel like I am?” he murmured before closing his mouth over hers.

  He kissed her, a long thrilling kiss that sent waves of rapture cascading down her body. His mouth was slow and gentle. So unlike the hungry, urgent kisses he’d given her last night. She lost herself in the taste of him, in his spicy, intoxicating scent. They could have been standing there for hours. Or days. Or months. Time ceased to exist as Luke’s tongue explored her mouth and his hands her body. When he lifted her in his arms, she wrapped her legs around him in response, and allowed him to carry her into her bedroom.

  He dropped her on the bed then stood at the foot of it. A sliver of moonlight floated through the open slit of the window curtains, lighting up Luke’s face and making the hunger in his eyes glimmer.

  “Last time we were in this position I never took the time to find out what makes you feel good. To drive you wild.”

  “Trust me, you drove me wild.”

  “Maybe so, but tonight I’m taking my time.” He unzipped his jeans. “If you don’t mind, that is.”

  “I don’t mind.”

  The sight of him in his snug boxer-briefs unleashed ripples of anticipation in her stomach. His erection made an impressive tent in the cotton but he seemed completely unabashed by it. Moving closer, he took off his shirt, and then settled on the edge of the bed. The mattress sagged under his weight, eliciting more anticipation. She wanted to feel that big powerful body pressing down on her, not the mattress.

  Luke didn’t say a word as he leaned forward and pulled her T-shirt over her head. He threw it aside, and started working on the front clasp of her bra. The second her breasts popped out of their restraints they were covered again by Luke’s hands. He cupped them, his touch more firm than gentle, and started rubbing her nipples with his thumbs.

  Shooting her a sexy grin, he asked, “How am I doing? Driving you wild yet?”

  “No.”

  “No?” He lifted his brows. “Not into fondling?”

  “Fondling is nice. Your mouth would be better.”

  He shifted again, this time sliding down so that he lay next to her. There was a spark of challenge in his eyes as he murmured, “You asked for it.”

  Before she could take a breath he latched his mouth onto one breast, sucking her nipple hard. She gasped, not out of pain but out of the sheer pleasure his skilled pressure provided. She heard him chuckle, the sound thudding against her breast and making her skin burn.

  “Better?” He lifted his head and shot her a look of amusement.

  “A little.”

  “A little?” He let out a soft “tsk” before dipping down again to lavish the same attention on her other breast. He was far from gentle, sucking and nipping at her hardened nipples until she cried out with pleasure that bordered on pain, but she wasn’t complaining. Arousal drum
med through her body, until her thighs grew slick from her own wetness and her hands clawed at the bed sheets.

  She bit back a groan when he finally stopped his erotic assault. No, not yet. She didn’t want to lose those incredible sensations just yet.

  “Don’t worry,” he teased, obviously catching the disappointment in her eyes. “We’re only getting started.”

  He hooked his thumbs under the waistband of her sweats and pulled them down her hips, taking her panties along for the ride.

  “I want to taste every inch of you, Elenore.”

  His low mutter caused a hot flush to swarm over her skin. “But…” Her voice trailed as he dragged his tongue from her breasts to her stomach and circled her navel.

  “But what?” He nipped at her flushed skin, his mouth dangerously close to the sparse triangle of hair between her thighs.

  “I need you inside me,” she choked out.

  “Too bad. I guess you’ll have to be patient, won’t you?” His husky voice was laced with both satisfaction and amusement. God, he was trying to kill her, wasn’t he?

  Her eyelids fluttered closed as he kissed her inner thighs then ran his finger over the moisture he’d left there. When she felt the first flick of his tongue against her clit, she gasped again.

  The sight of Luke between her legs was probably the sexiest thing she’d ever seen. The feel of his tongue on her clit was even sexier. She gave a throaty little moan that she couldn’t believe came from her, then lost herself in the pleasure he was intent on giving her.

  “Still feeling impatient?” he teased.

  She swallowed back another moan. “A little.”

  “Does this make it better?” He sucked her gently.

  “Yeah,” she managed to choke out.

  He kissed her wet folds, tonguing her in a way that had her struggling for breath. “What about this?”

  “Ah…oh God, uh…”

  “Good?”

  She managed a nod.