Dance With Me, Baby(2)
As though pulled by an invisible line, I began to approach the group, my eyes trained solely on my ballerina. The rest of the group, the terrace, everything, it all faded away. At about five feet away, her head lifted and rotated in my direction. Just like before, our gazes locked, but this time, she didn’t have the performance to tear her away.
I closed the rest of the gap and stood next to her chair, looming over her. That’s when I noticed the silence, and I broke our connection to see several pairs of eyes studying me.
“Do you mind if I borrow this beautiful lady?” I asked lightly, making sure there was pleasant humor in my tone. I didn’t want to scare her off by betraying how desperately I wanted to simply toss her over my shoulder and run away to some place where I could keep her all to myself.
More silence. I held my hand out to my violet-eyed girl and waited. I hoped somewhere inside her, she understood that if she accepted this gesture, she would no longer have a choice. She would be mine.
It was the longest seconds of my life, but then she placed her hand in mine and sealed her fate. I helped her to stand and then placed my hand on the small of her back and led her away to a dark, empty corner of the roof.
When we were hidden from the view of others, I ran out of patience and slowly lowered my mouth to hers. At first, it was a few light brushes, but it wasn’t enough, so I licked along her bottom lip, requesting entrance. She parted them immediately, earning a growl of approval from deep in my chest. My hands had found their way to her lower back, and I clenched the fabric in my fists as I pulled her body flush against mine.
She tasted amazing, and the sound of a soft moan took my annoying erection straight to a fucking baseball bat. Damn, I wanted her. I needed privacy, a bed, and our naked skin touching.
I finally lifted my head and smiled at the dazed expression on her face. “What is your name, my beautiful ballerina?”
“Juliette,” she whispered. “Juliette Moureaux.”
Even her name was sexy. I ran a finger across her cupid’s bow. “Juliette,” I repeated, loving the way her name rolled off of my tongue. “I’m Declan McGowan.”
I kissed her again, unable to stop myself, and when I was on the very brink of losing it and fucking her against the wall, I tore my lips away. Looking deeply into her eyes, I decided to take a leap. Going slow wasn’t my style. When I wanted something, I went after it, full speed ahead. She might as well learn that about me from the get-go.
“Come home with me,” I demanded, careful to keep my voice gentle but firm.
She pursed her lips, which was insanely adorable, and only made my desire for her grow. Her expression tinged with worry, and I knew I wasn’t going to be happy about whatever she said next.
“I’ve never done something like that. I’m so tempted, Declan, you have no idea, but—”
“Good,” I interrupted her, not the least interested in what she had to say after “but.” I started to guide her back inside until she stopped and tugged my suit coat to keep me from continuing.
“But, I’m not sure it’s a good idea. I’m leaving tomorrow for a four month, international tour.”
Her words hit me like a ton of bricks. Tomorrow? I grabbed her hand and held it tight, I couldn’t let her go. Could I? No, I had to convince her to stay. “All the more reason for us to make the most of this night.” I almost choked on the words.
“The thing is . . . there’s something about you, Declan. I just know you’re someone I could fall really hard for.”
That was it, I was done with the conversation. I lifted her against my chest and went inside, threading my way through the crowd until I reached the nearest exit. To my surprise, she wound her arms around my neck and laid her head on my chest, not uttering another word of protest. When I reached the sidewalk, I told her to hold on and raised my hand from her back to hail a cab.
Setting her inside, I followed when she scooted across the bench seat. “42nd and 5th,” I told the driver before hauling Juliette onto my lap and slanting my mouth over hers. Typical New York cabbie, he raced through the streets like a bat out of hell, hitting the brakes hard as we reached my apartment building.
I swiped my card and didn’t let go of Juliette as I got out of the car. After kicking the door shut, I stalked into my building, nodding at the doorman who opened my private elevator so I could march straight in. The door closed and I crashed my mouth down over hers. I dropped Juliette’s feet to the ground, then bent my knees so I could grip the globes of her incredible ass and lift her, forcing her legs around my waist.
Moving forward, I pressed her back to the wall and ground my cock into the heat between her thighs. She cried out and it took every fucking ounce of my strength not to come right then and there. I was saved by the ding of the elevator letting me know we’d reached the penthouse on the fourteenth floor. It opened up right into my living room and I headed straight for the couch, unable to make it any farther.