His Dance Lessons

by Mlyn Hurn

  * * * * *

  That evening Ophelia found Mac was once again seated outside her apartment door. Ophelia grinned as she saw how slowly he got up from the floor tonight as compared to yesterday.

  “I’m sorry I worked you so hard today,” she told him softly.

  Mac grimaced as he came to his feet. “I don’t want to hear any complaints regarding performance tonight.”

  Ophelia gasped at his blatant statement. “Hmm, sounds like you have plans for tonight.”

  Mac took her keys and unlocked the door to her apartment. “Not plans, my sweet, just a hopeful man begging at the feet of a beautiful woman.”

  Ophelia walked past him into her living room, tossing her purse onto a chair. “Aah. Well I had some plans—“

  Mac came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist. “Hmm, so you had plans, did you? My imagination is running rampant, but I owe you an apology for my caveman act in class today.”

  Ophelia heard the sincerity in his voice. She had been torn as he proclaimed her “his girl.” There had been intense feelings of satisfaction, pleasure and a warming deep inside her. It didn’t bide well for her feminist side, but she had felt so wonderful at Mac’s look of jealousy. There was worry that she was feeling too much too soon for this man who was bound to be leaving her life before too long. She knew that her protest should have been stronger, but it hadn't been in her heart.

  “I think you took poor Greg by surprise,” she answered Mac as she moved her hands to cover his.

  “I could see the symptoms of a crush on his face. These young men can fall hard for an older woman.”

  Ophelia pinched the back of his right hand. “Hey!”

  Mac spun her around to face him. “You are beautiful and I promise to leave my loincloth and chest beating outside the studio from now on.” His mouth came down and covered hers. His tongue quested forward, tasting her lips and savoring her tongue. After several long moments, he lifted his head. “Did your plans involve anything horizontal?”

  Ophelia stepped away from Mac and started walking toward her bedroom. She glanced over her shoulder, speaking softly. “Horizontal? That’s not how it looked in that book.”

  * * * * *

  Mac groaned and followed quickly down the hall. In the bedroom he found that Ophelia could undress a lot quicker than he would have thought. She was seated on her bed. He wouldn’t call it sitting, but rather she was reclining on her side propped up by her bent elbow. He would have sworn that the beautiful silk teddy she now wore was not what she’d put on this morning. Tossing his shirt aside, he crossed to stand at the foot of the bed. His eyes lowered to the sensual display of her breasts, barely contained by the small cups of pearl-pink lace. The straps had slipped off her shoulders.

  “You didn’t leave this morning wearing that!”

  Ophelia smiled back at him, lifting her hand to rest on her upper thigh. Mac watched as she caressed her skin with her fingertips. “I didn’t? What was I wearing this morning?”

  Mac was unsnapping and unzipping his jeans as fast as his fingers could manage. He stopped though to answer her question. “’Cause if you had been wearing that I wouldn’t have let you out of the house without one more tumble between the sheets.” Quickly he finished and slid his jeans and jockey shorts off. He tripped a little, rushing to kick his sneakers and socks off as well. Ophelia chuckled but stopped as he began moving up the bed towards her.

  “I might have to make you pay for that laugh at my lack of grace. And you were wearing a white sport bra and very non-sexy panties.”

  “You know, dancing could help with that lack of coordination,” Ophelia told him, as if he had not mentioned her “unmentionables.” She casually pressed her index finger to her temple as she continued, “I know of a good teacher…Eek!” she screeched as Mac pushed her flat to the mattress.

  “Too much talking, my love. Time for lovemaking,” Mac whispered into her ear as his mouth pressed kisses to the side of her neck. He moved down toward her right breast. As he nudged the cup down, his mouth followed until he could suckle her nipple.

  “Oh…oh my…aah!”

  Mac liked Ophelia’s soft exclamations. His fingers moved down her body to nestle between her thighs. He stopped as he felt the tiny snaps, looking up at her. “Maybe you should unsnap this thing before I damage it.”

  Ophelia looked up into his face, lifting one hand to push a lock of reddish brown hair off his brow. Her hand drifted down to caress the side of his face and then moved over to caress his lower lip. Mac moved his head and sucked her finger into his mouth. Her groan told him more effectively than any words that she was aroused as much as he by this verbal foreplay, which was escalation into more intimate foreplay.

  “It is so pretty, honey, and you look so sexy in it.”

  Ophelia nodded and reached down to quickly flick open the three tiny snaps. Mac’s fingers immediately began caressing her soft, wet pussy, easing his index between the pink folds of flesh. Mac found her clit and began to massage it gently, carefully. His eyes traveled over her sprawled body. Her womanly passion, along with the display of one naked breast and his hand between her thighs, aroused him even more.

  “God! Ophelia! You are so sexy, so beautiful. You knock men off their feet and you are completely unaware of your true power.”

  Ophelia shook her head side to side. “Not other men, Mac. You are the only one I want to please.”

  Mac removed his hand abruptly, replacing it with his hard erection. He entered her gently at first, watching her face as her body accepted his thick, hard cock. It only took a couple of thrusts and Ophelia orgasmed. Mac wanted to hold out but the contractions of her muscles around his cock soon had him thrusting quickly to his climax a few moments later.

  He started to shift away from her body when Ophelia reached out and held onto his upper arms. Her voice was breathless and husky as she spoke her request.

  “Please…Mac! Don’t leave me just yet. Stay…inside me.”

  Mac groaned, but he stopped moving. Talk about a phrase guaranteed to bring a response from a man—that was it! “I must be crushing you, Ophelia.”

  Ophelia smiled and lifted her head to press her lips to his for a light, soft kiss. “What woman doesn’t mind a little crush once she’s gotten what she wanted?”

  Chapter 6

  It didn’t take long for their lives to develop into a routine. Soon the weeks passed by quickly after those first two nights for Ophelia. They alternated nights at each other’s places, until Mac convinced her to give up the small apartment and move into his larger house.

  Ophelia wasn’t at all sure that moving into Mac’s place was the smartest action. Who knew how long they’d have together? What finally made her change her mind came about the third week they’d been hopping from place to place. She’d come home from class with her arms full of grocery sacks.

  Mac must have been waiting for her because the door swung open almost immediately as she stepped in front of it, fumbling for her keys. Instead of greeting her with a kiss, he offered to take the sacks into the kitchen for her. As he turned away, Ophelia noted that he was dressed in a very expensive suit. Quickly, her brain reminded her that he was wearing a nice tie and his hair was slicked back. All in all he looked quite devilishly attractive—rather like a businessman with a naughty secret.

  In the kitchen she found that he was already putting things away. It surprised her how quickly he had come to know where she kept everything in her small kitchen. In comparison to his big kitchen…well, there was no way to really compare them. He even had a walk-in pantry and a full-time, live-in staff composed of the nicest couple, Lydia and Jack Russell. The first time she met the couple, who were in their mid-fifties, she had been charmed. Lydia had treated her with respect, followed by motherly affection as they came to know one another. And Jack had broken the ice the first time they all met by telling some very amusing stories concerning his name.

  It was difficult, but Ophelia finally
got the words to come out of her mouth. “You look very handsome and debonair tonight.”

  Mac turned and Ophelia saw the slight flush creeping up his neck. It still surprised her that he wasn’t blasé, or noblesse oblige about compliments. She had learned that Mac had chosen not to live on the West Coast after his first successful movie. He didn’t like the party scene, and he had no close friends, other than a few directors, produces or actors that he had worked with so far.

  “I didn’t want to just leave you a note to find when you got home tonight or put it on your machine at work,” Mac told her quietly. It was the way he turned back to his task of sorting groceries that alarmed Ophelia the most. She felt a piercing pain in her chest and it suddenly became a little hard to breathe.

  Dear God, she thought in horror. Is this how this all ends? Had he lost interest in her and she had had no inkling? Her voice broke slightly as she finally found the courage to ask, “What do you mean, Mac?”

  It wasn’t easy, but she hadn't pounced accusingly at him. With Colin, she’d gotten used to him cheating on her. She had long suspected their relationship had merely become a convenience to him. As long as they lived together, he could party with the younger girls in the corps de ballet and he’d explain how he couldn’t leave Ophelia for them.

  She shivered suddenly at the distasteful memory of Colin. Looking at Mac, she saw the questioning look on his face. She hoped he hadn't been able to tell anything from her facial expressions that indicated the chaotic jumble of thoughts going on inside her head at the moment. Carefully she curved her lips upwards into a smile.

  “I went home after class, honey, and found a message on my machine from my parents.”

  Ophelia suddenly felt like crap. Her thoughts had all been centered on her life, and not on Mac’s. “Are they all right? Did something happen?”

  Mac crossed over to pick up her hand and hold it carefully between both of his much bigger and stronger hands. “They sounded okay, but they called an emergency family meeting for tonight. I want you to meet them, Ophelia, but I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable the first time you meet. God only knows what this meeting is all about!”

  Mac released her hand and pulled her close to wrap his arms around her. “We’ve had other family meetings that have been nothing, and occasionally we get one where one of my siblings drops a bomb on my parents.”

  Ophelia hugged him back. “It’s okay, Mac. I understand. You go on and hopefully it will turn out to be nothing major and you can have a nice visit. Will you come back here tonight?”

  Ophelia stopped abruptly, hoping she didn’t sound as needy and pathetic to Mac as she had to own ears. But seeing Mac shake his head negatively didn’t reassure her.

  “I doubt my parents will release us until it is too late to drive back. They like it when we all stay overnight. That way my mom gets to make us all breakfast one more time and have her table filled with her children once again.”

  Ophelia smiled, nodding her head. She had to blink quickly as tears came to her eyes. “That is sweet, you know.”

  Mac kissed Ophelia on her forehead, pulling her close to his chest once again. “Believe me, Ophelia, I’d much rather be here, with you.”

  Emotion clogged her throat suddenly and she could only nod her agreement. Eventually though, Mac had to kiss her goodbye. After that, Ophelia had felt like her small apartment was huge, empty and very lonely.

  “Stop feeling sorry for yourself, Ophelia, and get busy!”

  She quickly finished putting her groceries away before she went into the bedroom and changed into her “cleaning clothes.” From that point on, if it didn’t get out of her path, it got cleaned. Finally, after a relaxing bath, Ophelia settled into her bed, exhausted. She drifted in and out of sleep, until almost midnight when her phone rang.

  * * * * *

  “Wha…hello?”

  “Hey, honey. It’s me, Mac. I’m sorry I woke you up.”

  Mac twisted restlessly on his old bed. It seemed funny, but even though he was the oldest and first to leave the house, his parents had not redecorated his childhood bedroom. It was still decorated from his years at college with a full-size bed. He was getting used to that size of bed since that is what Ophelia had, but he was most comfortable when they slept at his house, using his California king-size bed.

  Through the phone Mac listened as Ophelia woke up. He did feel badly about waking her, but he’d been lying on this damned bed trying to fall asleep for the last forty-five minutes. Finally he’d decided that if he could just hear her voice, then he’d be able to get to sleep. He was thankful this was Friday and Ophelia could sleep in tomorrow. He did pause though, regretful that they couldn’t be leisurely waking up Saturday morning.

  Ophelia groaned. “That’s okay, sweetheart. I miss you.”

  Mac caught his breath at Ophelia’s simple admission. There was a definite strange feeling in his chest and he had a damned good idea what the cause of it was. “I miss you, too. I am sorry for waking you, but I’ve been lying here for almost an hour trying to fall asleep.”

  “Your parents have room for you?”

  “They’ve kept my room the same as it was when I finally got out of college and left for Hollywood in search of fame and fortune.” Mac could hear Ophelia chuckling through the phone connection.

  “So does it have all your childhood stuff and your Alma Mater banners on the walls?”

  “Oh, yeah. They redid the others’ rooms after they left, but then when they left it was because they had gotten married.”

  “So how many kids were there—and I probably should have asked this sooner—you aren’t married, are you?”

  Mac laughed softly. “No, Ophelia. I am not married and there are no other attachments in my life, besides my family.” Mac hesitated, wanting to ask Ophelia about the man she had been involved with when she lived in New York City. Before he could decide on the best way to bring up the subject, Ophelia was asking him a question.

  “How was the family meeting? I don’t mean to pry. I mean…I don’t want you to feel that you have to tell me.”

  Mac grinned as he listened to Ophelia stammering over the phone. “I understand, sweetheart. I don’t think you are prying. The funny thing is that I should have brought you with me. It turns out my sister saw us last Sunday at the music festival. Do you remember that kiss I gave you after you won that stuffed bear? That is when my sister Maureen caught sight of us. Needless to say, my mother was concerned. I’d told them about taking a dance class, mentioning you.”

  “Your sister hadn't heard?”

  “Well, Ophelia, you were wearing that cap that matched mine, along with that too big sweatshirt. Maureen didn’t think you looked like any kind of dancer she’d ever seen.”

  “Damn! I better look at my butt in the mirror tomorrow. All that good cooking of Mrs. Russell’s must be going straight to my ass.”

  Mac laughed out loud before he could stop. “Your butt is perfect, babe. It has just the right amount of padding for doggie-style—“

  “Mac!” Ophelia squealed into the phone.

  “Hmm, I bet you are really blushing now.”

  “Perhaps.”

  “I’m hot a good deal lower than my cheeks, honey.” Mac grinned as Ophelia gasped.

  Ophelia listened to Mac on the phone. Hearing his voice was doing all kinds of arousing things to her body. She was surprised that just the sound and tone of his voice could elicit such a passionate response in her body. The deep huskiness seemed to tickle up and down her spine and out along her nerve endings. In the darkness, she shivered.

  “Mac?” She whispered his name into the phone, and wondered if he could hear the need in her voice.

  “What, honey?”

  “I wish you were here, in bed with me.” The groan that echoed through the receiver told her more than any words that his wishes were the same.

  “I would have something for you, if I was,” Mac told her barely above a whisper.

  Oph
elia giggled, pretty sure she knew what he meant. “Hmm. And you are sure that this is something that I would like?” she teased him quickly.

  “I believe you would, pretty lady. Up to date you’ve been quite appreciative.”

  Ophelia gasped at Mac’s words, barely holding back her laughter. “I think you are being very naughty, Mr. MacDonald, and if your mother knew how you were talking to a lady—“

  “Then who was the wildcat in my bed last night?”

  Ophelia caught her breath at Mac’s question. As a joke, sort of, she had purchased a tiger-striped body briefer that fit her like skin. Feeling bold, she had also purchased some black and gold narrow ribbon. Sitting in her office before leaving for Mac’s home, she had cut and tied the ribbon to simulate a lion tamer’s whip. The look on his face when she had told him that “tonight the tiger becomes the master” had told her how powerful her words had been.

  “I hid your whip, Ophelia. Next time the tamer may decide he prefers life as the male tiger.”

  Ophelia filed that bit of information in the back of her head, remembering that she had seen a pair of tiger-striped silky shorts that would work quite well if he wanted to play that scenario. “I might let you catch me next time.”

  “You are driving me crazy, woman! I’m developing a real ‘hard’ problem that just may require attention,” Mac growled into her ear.

  “I’ve never had phone sex before,” Ophelia told him softly. His immediate groan told her of his reaction to her words. “I did take a rather hot bath earlier.”

  “Oh, yeah? What made it so hot?”

  “I lit some candles first and poured a glass of the red wine you decanted the other night.”

  “Bubbles?”

  “Of course, and some jasmine scented bath oil. It made my skin very soft and slippery.”