Dances with Monsters(107)

He seemed to breathing as raggedly as she was and she felt him straining against her thigh. She was tempted—so tempted, her body screaming for it, but she knew that if she let her body make that call, her mind would suffer for it.

"Heath," she whispered. "I—I'm not sure –"

"Shh," he whispered back into her skin. "I told you. I just want to touch you."

His fingers found a rhythm, and as they worked inside her he buried his face in her neck, listening to her breathing, her soft moans. She could hardly believe she was experiencing this, that she was allowing it to happen, but…it just felt so good.

So good, in fact, that she felt the familiar heat coiling in her stomach yet again, but this time it felt deeper, buried inside her core, more intense. She mumbled unintelligibly as his fingers coaxed the feeling inside her to come to the surface, stronger and stronger, until her eyes were flying open again and her body shook and shuddered and Heath's lips dropped onto hers as she came again, so intense it literally took her breath away for a moment. He waited until she'd calmed down a little before stroking her gently a few more times and then withdrawing his fingers.

She was suddenly overcome with the desire to give him something in return. She felt shy about it, having been out of practice for quite some time. Despite that, her fingers touched the skin above the waistband of his sweatpants, before closing around the elastic and tugging downward.

Instantly his hand was over hers, pulling it away. "Nope," he said softly, his breath warming her neck.

"But," she said shyly, "I want to."

"And I appreciate that," he replied, smiling into her flesh. "But I'll be okay. I wanted to touch you. That's all. Remember?"

"But –"

"No," he replied, kissing her. "Not yet." He gathered her up against him again, wrapping his arms around her.

As she snuggled into his embrace, she felt slightly bad that she wasn't giving him anything back, but he was right—it might have been too much too soon. She laughed inwardly at her own grudging selfishness and quickly pressed her lips to his shoulder, wondering how in the world she'd gotten lucky enough to find someone like Heath Riley.





Chapter Twenty-Three


When Drew suddenly jerked awake and sat straight up in bed hours later, she knew she was dead.

Her sudden, sharp movements caused Heath to wake instantly beside her and sit up too. He watched as she slapped her hand down on his alarm clock and brought it to her face in disbelief before slamming it back down on his nightstand.

"Problem?" Heath asked mildly.

"Holy shit!" she breathed. "Holy fuck. I'm in so much trouble."

It was thirty-seven minutes past seven o'clock; she was supposed to have been at the café at six-thirty. Once a month, her parents took a thorough inventory of the supplies in the café before preparing to make their large, monthly order to their suppliers for re-stock. Inventory was a laborious process and the family usually came in a couple hours before opening to get it done. Drew's help was always especially needed to cut down on the time and this inventory day had happened on a Saturday when she wasn't teaching dance class; her studio was finally being refloored and the barres replaced, and there was no other available studio space at that time. She had called the parents of each of her pupils a few days prior to let them know class had been canceled. Her parents had been delighted when they'd found out she was available for monthly inventory.

She was explaining all of this rapidly to Heath as she hopped out of bed to struggle into her jeans and yank on her sweater which she'd evidently stripped off at some point during the night. She swept her hair back into its bun and hurried into his bathroom, still talking, pausing only to splash water on her face and rinse her mouth with his mouthwash. He was listening to her rant quietly as he picked his clothes up from the floor and dressed, then moved into the bathroom behind her. He smiled at her wide-eyed expression.

"Relax," he said to her reflection. "I'll drive you there. Okay? Give me a minute."

Drew stepped out of the bathroom so he could use it and brush his teeth and paced frantically. She pulled her phone from her bag and groaned aloud when she saw thirteen missed calls from the café and several texts from Bunz asking for her whereabouts. When Heath emerged from the bathroom a few minutes later she held up her phone.

"Dead," she repeated. "I'm so dead."

"So you're a little late," he said, picking up his gym bag. "They'll understand. C'mon."

They hurried out of his apartment and into his car, Drew still chattering away as she stared out the window.