Save the Last Dance

by Jami Davenport

  “What are you doing?” she said dreamily as she felt his mouth on the most intimate part of her body.

  “No one’s ever done this to you before?”

  “No.”

  “Oh, baby...oh, baby...oh, baby...” he said and proceeded to educate her.

  Chapter 12—The Goodbye

  Rico woke up in the middle of the night next to a soft, willing female. Not just any female, mind you, but one that made him feel as randy as a teenage boy. Her enthusiasm and innocence revved him like a Grand Prix race car with an overhauled engine and a full tank of gas.

  He’d made love to her a second time just to prove the first hadn’t been an aberration.

  It wasn’t. Hell, it was even better.

  Liberated from her fear, Mariah grew bolder and less inhibited with every passing minute. Rico rolled onto his back, and pulled her across his body to straddle his hips. She bent down to kiss him and caress his chest, rendering him senseless. Her long, silky hair tickled his skin. Instinctively, she knew where he loved to be touched and just how to touch him, which sent him to a testosterone-induced heaven. He slid her down onto his cock and helped her find her rhythm as their bodies did an erotic tango together.

  Dawn came too soon. The world outside began to wake up. He’d slept a long and dreamless sleep when he’d finally slept. Who needed dreams when you had an angel in your bed? Her slender body hugged his side and her hair was tangled around his arm. One small hand rested on his chest. He’d captured one of her long legs between his thighs.

  Rico kept his eyes closed, fighting against the reality of a new day. Last night, he’d been caught up in the lust. Now, the magic of the previous night faded to a fond memory. Uneasy, he snuck out of bed and pulled on his jeans. He walked outside to the bow of the boat and lit a cigarette, inhaling deeply.

  He’d forgotten to put on a condom that first time. He’d never forgotten something as important as that before. Where had his head been? Okay, that was a stupid question with an obvious answer.

  The second time he fumbled in his jeans to find one. She told him she was on the pill, gave some female reason that it made her periods more regular or something. Like it mattered to him. He was just grateful she wouldn’t get pregnant. A baby was the last thing he needed. Something went still inside him. Would it be so bad? He loved kids. He’d always assumed he’d have a houseful, but time kept marching on.

  Rico leaned against the railing and breathed in the cool morning air, trying clear his head. Mariah, as the mother of his babies? He had to quit thinking those kinds of thoughts.

  Uncertainty snuffed out his earlier contentment. Like spotlights on a stage, his confused feelings changed colors and intensity with amazing speed. Exhilarated. Ecstatic. Amazed. Scared. Vulnerable. Exposed. He couldn’t digest them all.

  She’d touched him.

  Not just physically, but on a deeper level. Mariah slipped past his defenses like a thief in the night. She reached that part of him he’d long given up for dead, or at least missing in action. He’d felt her there—in the place he concealed from the world, from himself. In his heart. In his soul. In that place where he stashed his secret emotions, dreams, and fears, fears buried so deep, even he hadn’t been able to find them until she’d opened that door.

  He’d felt her, too. Her insecurities, her loneliness, her passions. The logical side of him denied such a connection between two people could exist. His soul knew the truth.

  To allow someone inside relinquished control over his heart. It gave her free rein to hurt him, to betray him. No one would play him for a fool again. Been there, done that with his father, his brother, Carmen, and all those people he’d considered friends before the gravy train ran out.

  He couldn’t afford her, not monetarily and certainly not for the effect she could have on his heart.

  One by one, Rico stuffed his vulnerabilities back inside that secret place. He locked them up and threw away the key. She wouldn’t get in there again. From this point forward, he’d restrict his interest in her to companionship, entertainment, and sex.

  * * *

  “What’s up, Angel? This better be good.”

  “Rico, where’ve you been? I’ve been trying to reach you.”

  “I was boating. Just got back an hour ago. Is something wrong?”

  “Dad’s back.”

  “From his honeymoon?”

  “Yeah. Actually, his wife ran off with a twenty-one-year-old cabana boy she met at the resort. Took his credit cards and a load of cash.”

  “Oh, shit. Why doesn’t that surprise me? Well, she lasted a few more days than the previous one.”

  “Rico, he’s back at work, ordering junk like there’s no tomorrow. You know spending money is his cure for a broken heart.”

  Rico sighed and ran his fingers through his unruly hair, as if that would tame it. “You didn’t process the orders, did you?”

  “No, but he keeps asking about them.”

  “What did he order?”

  “I don’t know where to start. Stuff companies are trying to dump because it didn’t sell last year. Swimsuits that dissolve in water. Orange polyester Bermuda shorts. Stuff like that. You know, real deals.”

  Rico had to laugh in spite of it all. “Dissolving swimsuits? What’s the problem with that?” He wondered where he could get one of those for Mariah. It’d be great for a hot tub.

  “Rico, come on.” Angel sounded exasperated.

  “Okay, sorry. Look, hold him off. I’ll be back soon. Tell him they backordered the stuff.”

  “I’ll try, but you know how insistent he is.”

  “Yeah, I know.” Rico commiserated with her. “By the way, Angel, who gave Ramon my number?”

  “I did. Have you talked to him?”

  “Once. I hang up on him, but he’s left me a dozen messages since. The little ass won’t take no for an answer.”

  “You two need to patch your differences.”

  “That’ll be a cold day in hell. He sold me out, Angel. You remember that, don’t you? He gave the press what they wanted when they were on their search and destroy mission. He lied to gain publicity for himself and screwed me over.”

  “He was young and stupid, Rico. He’s sorry.”

  “Yeah, right.”

  “He is. He knows he shouldn’t have told the press those lies.”

  “Well, it worked for him, didn’t it? They crucified me after his heartfelt TV interview. The little snake. In the process, his CD sales soared. The shithead even won a Grammy the next year at my expense. Meanwhile, the music business blackballed me. No one would touch me. I was like a hair dryer in a bathtub. Stick your hand in there, and you get electrocuted.”

  “He apologized later and retracted his remarks.”

  “Yeah, but the damage was done. No one believed him when he told the truth. They thought he did it under pressure from his family.” Rico rubbed hand over his face. “I don’t want to talk about him anymore. I need to go. Stay in touch.”

  Rico stared out at the calm waters of the little bay and wished his emotions were sailing on waters that calm.

  * * *

  Mariah opened her door that evening to find Rodrigo standing there with a bouquet of red roses in one hand and an overnight bag in the other.

  “Thank you. They’re beautiful.” Mariah took the flowers and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

  “I missed you, bella.”

  “You just saw me five hours ago.”

  “It was a long five hours.”

  Mariah looked at the bag in his hand. “What’s the bag for?”

  “I thought we were having a sleepover.”

  “You and me?”

  “Well, yeah. I wasn’t planning on inviting anyone else to join us. I don’t share.”

  “Rigo—” Mariah squirmed uncomfortably. What was she doing? This man was trouble with a capitol T.

  Rodrigo’s face fell. “You don’t want me to stay the night, Rye?”

  Mariah hesitated.
She’d already dived in the deep end, she might as well tread water a little longer before she drowned. Impulsively, she moved into his arms. “Yes, yes, I do.”

  He stroked her hair then wrapped a large handful around his hand and pulled her head back gently to look in her eyes. She leaned into him and waited expectantly for his mouth to find hers, but he kissed the tip of her nose and the corners of her lips, evading her mouth. Frustrated with his teasing, a small moan rose inside her. The corner of his mouth crooked in a tiny smile, but he wouldn’t end the game and kiss her.

  “You want something, baby?”

  “You know I do.” She pressed harder against him.

  “Man, what a difference twenty-four hours can make.” Satisfaction gleamed in his dark eyes. He loved making her want him.

  Later that evening, they drove into nearby Eastsound to have dinner at an intimate inn on the water. Rodrigo stopped at a grocery store and bought a couple bottles of wine on the way back to Mariah’s house. They wrapped up in a blanket on the porch swing and watched the sun set over the water and the stars come out while they finished off a bottle of wine.

  All seemed right with Mariah’s world. Rodrigo felt comfortable like an old shoe, not that he looked like one. She spoke her mind to him, and he listened. He didn’t belittle her or tell her she was stupid because she had a different point of view. They seemed compatible in so many ways. Opposites might attract, but compatibility lasted.

  Rodrigo had told her that she completed him. She knew the feeling because she felt it, too. They connected with each other in ways she couldn’t begin to decipher or understand, and they’d only tapped the surface of that connection.

  “So tell me,” he said with a grin on his face, “something I don’t know about you.”

  She snuggled closer to his chest and smiled. “There are lots of things you don’t know about me.”

  “Name one?” he baited her, waiting expectantly for what she would come up with next.

  “I’m addicted to clothes.”

  “I know that.”

  “I’d like to take you shopping, get you a good haircut, and clean you up a bit...Well, maybe a lot.”

  He laughed. “What? You don’t like my clothes? I’m deeply hurt.”

  “No, you’re not. If I thought this look was really you, I wouldn’t change it for the world, but I don’t think it is.”

  “What makes you think this isn’t me?”

  “Oh, I think some days it is you, but most days I think you probably have better taste in clothes than this. Call it a gut feeling.”

  Rodrigo laughed. “Okay, Princess, tell me something I really don’t know.”

  Before she could answer, Rodrigo’s cell phone rang. “Damn, I thought I’d turned that thing off.” He grabbed it, checked the number and shut it off.

  “Who was it?”

  “My brother. Calls me all the time, acts like we’re buddies.”

  Mariah digested this piece of information. “Rigo, you’re hurting yourself by harboring this resentment toward him.”

  “Resentment?” His eyes flashed with anger. She’d hit a sore spot. “I don’t resent him. He doesn’t have one thing that I want.”

  “Then why don’t you forgive him? He’s your brother. I would give anything for a brother or sister.” Actually, she’d give anything for a family.

  “Well, I’m not you, am I?”

  She flinched at the sarcasm in his voice. He had no idea how it felt to be alone in the world. She loved her friends, but family stuck by you no matter what, the one constant in an ever-changing world. They put up with all of your faults and idiosyncrasies and forgave your mistakes. She swallowed a lump in her throat. Why hadn’t she fallen in love with a normal man? One that wanted to settle down, get married, have kids, that type of thing? No, she had to make her life even more difficult. She’d fallen for a guy who avoided commitment like she avoided polyester.

  “I’m sorry. That was uncalled for. You don’t understand my family, Mariah. It’s so complicated.”

  “Then explain it to me.” He shook his head. The shutters fell over his eyes, and he locked her out, pushing her to the perimeter of his world. She sighed. “At least you have a family.”

  “Yeah. Yeah, I do. As dysfunctional as they are, they’re mine.”

  Rodrigo’s dark eyes met hers. He lifted her chin with his index finger. He tilted his head down to hers and kissed her tenderly. His lips lingered on hers long after the kiss was over. Mariah touched his face, sliding the back of her hand over his stubbled cheek. She let her hand trail down to the open neck of his shirt. With tentative fingers, she unbuttoned each button. Rodrigo froze and held his breath.

  Mariah glanced at him. His eyes burned with the same intensity she’d seen the night before. She looked down, engrossed in finishing the job she had started. She pulled his shirt out of his jeans and pushed it off of his shoulders. Rodrigo leaned forward to accommodate her as she removed it. Mariah placed her hands on his bare chest, sliding them over the hard flat muscles. She looked up at him questioningly. He smiled encouragement at her but didn’t make a move to touch her or stop her. She ran her fingers over the corded muscles of his arms and chest, exploring his fit body. He pulled her silk blouse over her head and threw it aside, exposing a dainty lace camisole.

  Gently, she pushed him down. “It’s my turn tonight. Can I practice on you?” she whispered in a sultry voice guaranteed to make his blood boil.

  “I guess I’ll make that sacrifice.” A soft moan escaped from his mouth as Mariah straddled his body. Bending down, she covered his lips with hers. A fine sweat broke out over his body. An owl hooted from a nearby tree, reminding Mariah of where they were. “Do you think anyone can see us?”

  Rodrigo’s eyes scanned the area, concern darkened his face. “Let’s go inside.”

  Mariah stood up and grabbed his hand. Together they stepped through the open French doors into the bedroom. Rodrigo sat down on the edge of the bed and pulled her onto his lap. Giggling, Mariah struggled to get free of him.

  “Rigo, lie down and behave for a minute.”

  “Now, why would I want to do that?” Yet, even as he said it, he obeyed her.

  She stood up and locked eyes with him. “I said it was my turn tonight. Let’s see how good of a teacher you are.”

  “Let’s see how good of a pupil you are.”

  Mariah removed her camisole in one fluid motion. Every movement was temptingly slow and pleasantly agonizing. She relished her new role as a tease, maybe because Rodrigo seemed to be enjoying it so much. His grin was as wide as the Columbia River. Gaining confidence in leaps and bounds, she stripped for her scruffy Latin lover. She tossed each article of clothing carelessly at him. Her bra landed on his forehead, and her panties draped across one shoulder. Mariah moved to the bed. Her nerve endings itched with anticipation. For a moment she stood there, suddenly uncertain. Rodrigo batted her bra away from his face and held his arms out to her. She fell on top of him, laughing until she lost herself in his kisses.

  Mariah broke the kiss and removed his remaining clothes. With Rodrigo’s full support, she did things to him that she’d never considered doing to another man. Shy at first, she grew bolder as she gained confidence. She controlled their lovemaking, and he surrendered his body to her. Lowering herself down onto him, she sheathed him inside her body. Her hips stroked him, up and down, taking him deeper.

  Sitting up, he held her hands, supporting her as she leaned backwards and wrapped her long legs around his waist. She took him higher and higher. She knocked on the door to his soul again, needing more from him. Greedy for everything. He kept her out this time, satisfying her physically, but not spiritually. Her tightness convulsed around him as he released himself inside her. She clung to him, panting from the exertion and excitement.

  Rodrigo flopped onto his back. She collapsed on top of him. A soft breeze fluttered through the open door, cooling them down. He wrapped their naked bodies in a blanket. They giggled and la
ughed as they tripped and stumbled over the blanket on their way outside to seat themselves again on the old porch swing. They talked into the wee hours of the night about their dreams, their insecurities, and their philosophies on life in between those deep, wet kisses. A physical and spiritual bond had been forged the night before, but the ties that were being woven this night that would be even harder to break.

  Over the next few days, Mariah and Rodrigo settled into a comfortable pattern. Mariah spent her mornings with her horses and giving Rico his lesson. She worked on her interior design projects in the afternoons while Rico went back to his house to take care of personal business. The evenings and the nights belonged to the two of them. Rodrigo cooked if they stayed home, which was fine with her. His cooking was much better than hers. In fact, he concocted an impressive Puerto Rican feast one night for Mariah, Eva, and Jamal.

  One morning, she moved his shaving cream out of her way in her search for her birth control pills. Picking up his underwear, she put it in her clothes hamper. Startled, Mariah looked around her house. His shabby clothes hung in her closet. He’d taken over a drawer in her dresser. His shampoo perched on a shelf in her shower. His cologne sat on the bathroom counter. Little by little, in the past few days, the man had moved himself into her house. Sitting down on the edge of her bathtub, Mariah hugged herself tightly. If this was a dream, she didn’t ever want to wake up. She wanted to stay like this forever with him by her side. Couldn’t she have that one wish? Hadn’t she lost enough people in her life? Her parents? Her beloved aunt? She’d never ask for anything again. She loved him so much. They could make this work somehow. She knew they could.

  A single tear slipped down her cheek and fell on the bathroom tile.

  * * *

  Rico’s return to Los Angeles couldn’t be avoided. Angel could only hold their father back for so long. That man could ruin a healthy multi-million-dollar business in a week, given half the chance, and Rico’s business wasn’t that healthy.