More than anything, she missed his friendship. He was such a huge part of her life that his absence left a giant, yawning void that she didn’t know what to do with. Dancing helped, but after the music stopped, he reclaimed his place in her thoughts, took control of her ability to focus and then the cycle began all over again.
It stopped just then, a five-second break between songs, and the studio was completely silent. The soundproof walls blocked sound from outside and tended to amplify sounds from within. That’s why she heard it as clearly as she did—a soft breath expelled into the room. Not close, but close enough. To Wendy, it seemed as if she could feel the heat of that breath on her damp skin.
She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, wondering if she might be hallucinating and praying that she wasn’t. Then she turned toward the doorway, the direction from which the sound had come, and saw him standing there. A hot gush of honey soaked her panties when their eyes met and he started walking in her direction.
Watching him come toward her, she slowly sank down into a seat and removed her pointe shoes.
* * *
Frazier had been standing there for at least ten minutes, watching Wendy dance as if her life depended on it and wondering if it really did.
Arousal had whispered across his skin every time a leg sliced through the air or an arm swept across an air current. The glow of perspiration on her skin was an aphrodisiac. The music was an interesting mix of beats, bass and orchestra, and her body swayed, twirled and vibrated to it in perfect sync. She looked like she was in a utopian bubble, one that he couldn’t help wanting to infiltrate.
The past two weeks had been hell for him. Not seeing her, not speaking to her every day left gaping holes in his daily routine that he didn’t have a clue how to fill. He’d been busy enough during business hours—hiring and training a receptionist, and acclimating himself to the presence of both another broker and a college intern in the office—that putting her out of his mind had been partially doable. But only partially, because nighttime inevitably arrived and the images in his mind of her and of them together electrified him.
When she saw him and he started walking toward her, his plan was only to talk to her, to see for himself that she was okay.
From his mother, who’d heard it straight from Wendy’s mother, he knew that she was packed and ready to leave for Nevada in a few days. Her assistants were dividing up her classes and continuing with their own classes in her absence, with Wendy’s mother volunteering to supervise the administrative duties. As far as the studio was concerned, she’d covered all her bases. But how long she’d be gone was anybody’s guess and, at this point, whether or not she was planning to return was, too.
His plan was to say goodbye to her and somehow leave things between them on a positive note. Too many years of close friendship depended on it. But then, she was back on her feet, in his face and looking up at him like the whole world was about to end and he was the only person who could stop it. And he forgot about everything except her wet, open mouth.
She took his tongue like a trouper, reaching up to wrap a hand around the back of his neck to bring him close and keep him there, and parting her lips as wide as they would allow. Her body came up against his and his hands went straight to her butt and held on. They squeezed and kneaded, while his tongue plundered her mouth hungrily. Each stroke of his tongue against hers drew a soft, sexy whimper from her and each whimper made him harder and harder.
Music was blasting in the background, echoing off the walls around them, and he heard it clearly for a minute or two. Then it faded to black and all he heard was the sound of mounting anticipation. Heavy breathing and sighs and moans lit the air. Hands explored, squeezed and gripped.
In one quick motion, he tugged her leotard straps down the length of her arms until her breasts sprang free and then he promptly tongued one of her puckered nipples deep into his mouth. He sucked and lapped at her nipples hungrily, one at a time, over and over, until she was palming the back of his head with one hand and cupping her breasts and feeding him with the other.
When tasting her flesh was no longer enough, he let her walk him backward to the nearest wall and press his back against it while she went to work on his belt. His shaft was between them seconds later, a bead of pre-cum glistening on its tip.
He wanted to watch her watch his body’s reaction to her, wanted to see every expression that crossed her gorgeous face, but she had other ideas.
Before he could prepare himself, Wendy slid down to her knees before him and wrapped her soft lips around his flesh. She sucked on the head of his cock silkily, causing his breath to back up in his throat on contact. His eyes went to half-mast and a soft hiss whistled through his clenched teeth. Now it was his turn to palm the back of her head, to play in her hair until the messy bun at the top of her head was in wild disarray.
The sight of her lips sliding back and forth on him, her tongue drawing erotic designs on his flesh, made his blood pump through his veins and sharp jolts of pleasure shoot down his spine. He fought the urge to come, even though his hips were rocking back and forth, making love to Wendy’s mouth, and pushing him closer and closer to the edge.
The music stopped and its absence was jarring, leaving only his hoarse groans and her breathless sighs to fill the room. His voice sounded strange even to his own ears, like a drowning man fighting for air but losing the battle willingly. He felt himself swelling dangerously and withdrew from her mouth before the rush of sensation pooling in his gut got the best of him. He needed to be inside of her now.
* * *
“Ah...aahhh...yes, yes, yes...”
The glass against her back was chilly but Wendy was sizzling with heat. Unintelligible sounds were all she was capable of making, all she could wrap her mind around. Her tone was guttural, her knuckles were damn near white from gripping the barre behind her so tightly, and her toes were deliciously curled in on themselves. She had never felt so delicate, so weightless in her entire life...or so damn turned on.
Frazier’s large, powerful hands held her butt suspended in midair, at the perfect angle for his long, forceful strokes. She bounced up and down on his thick length, coating him with her honey over and over again as her walls pulsed around him. The intense look on his face as he stared at her breasts only added to the jolts of electricity shooting up and down her spine. In spite of the condom between their flesh, it was as if she could feel every engorged vein in his penis. Fingers of ecstasy traveled up and down her legs, until they were trembling and her hips were spasming in his hands.
The orgasm, when it finally took mercy on her and rolled over her from head to toe, was so fierce that she lost her grip on the barre. She might’ve slid down to the floor and taken him with her if he hadn’t shifted his stance at exactly the right moment.
When it was over and they were both preoccupied with putting themselves back together again, she looked up from straightening her leotard and caught him staring at her. She blushed under the intensity of his gaze. “What?”
“Nothing,” Frazier said, adjusting the knot in his tie as he closed the distance between them. When they were close enough to kiss, he dipped his head and did just that, dropping a juicy gift on her upturned lips. “I love you,” he said softly.
The tears in her eyes sneaked up on Wendy before she could hold them back. “I love you, too.”
He took her hand, threaded their fingers together and brought it to his mouth for a kiss. “Good luck in Las Vegas, Wendy.”
She stood there staring at the empty doorway for a long time after he was gone, wondering why, if she’d been expecting him to ask her to stay and she’d been prepared to tell him no, she was so disappointed because he hadn’t.
Six Weeks Later
This year, Christmas and New Year’s Day were miserable affairs for Wendy. She loved that her parents had flown to Las Vegas to be with h
er for the holidays, but she hadn’t been able to spend as much time with them as she would’ve liked. With auditions just wrapping up, upcoming performances to choreograph new routines for and practice schedules to create, she barely had time to get a full night’s sleep, let alone take extra time off for leisure.
Her schedule was exceedingly demanding, much more so than she’d been expecting, but the work was as satisfying as she’d hoped it would be and that helped make her fatigue worth it. As an added bonus, the warmer weather seemed to be agreeing with her leg, too, because she hadn’t had a flare-up in over three weeks, which was always a good thing.
Just about the only issue she had with being in Las Vegas, aside from the tiny apartment that Greeley had rented for her stay, was that Frazier hadn’t yet come for a visit.
Since their last interlude at the studio, they spoke over the phone at least twice a week, but their conversations were noticeably strained when they never used to be and way shorter than they’d ever been. She had invited him to visit at least twice now and both times he’d only given her vague maybes in response.
Her feelings were bruised and her confidence in whatever the future held for the two of them was shaken, but she refused to regret crossing the line into intimacy with him.
She hadn’t been a virgin since college, but when Frazier was inside of her, he made her feel like everything she experienced was new and unique. Every touch set her skin on fire and her pulse racing. Every kiss was so deep that she thought she might drown in it, that she wanted to drown in it. His lovemaking was the best she’d ever experienced and she’d been in love with him for so long that there was no way in hell what they’d done was wrong. It couldn’t be. She wouldn’t let it be.
So, okay, she thought, their friendship had taken a few hits along the way. She’d fix it and them, when she got back home.
“Georgia,” Wendy said, snapping out of her reverie quickly. “You’re lagging on the second swing. I need you to pick it up a bit.” She glanced at the circle of students spread out around her in the dance studio, randomly picked a male student and motioned for him to join her in the center of the circle. “Like this. Watch my legwork.” The male student got in position and so did she. “Five, six, seven, eight...”
It was all the twirling, she thought as they finished the short combination and she spun to a complete stop. That and the fact that she’d only eaten half a cup of yogurt for breakfast this morning and had worked through lunch. Rooms tended to spin when you didn’t eat properly...or couldn’t remember the last time you’d eaten at all, for that matter. She stood still with her eyes closed until the feeling of vertigo passed.
“Miss Wendy, are you okay?” a female student asked.
She opened her eyes on a teenage girl’s concerned face and smiled. “Yes, I’m fine, thank you. I haven’t had lunch yet and I’m starting to run on fumes, that’s all.” She cleared her throat and clapped her hands, looking around the room. “Okay, where were we?”
She didn’t get around to eating lunch until it was at least an hour past dinnertime and by then, she was completely wiped out.
Later, instead of staying late at the dance school to work on her choreography, as she usually did, as soon as all of her students were gone, she left anything having to do with work at the school and went home, too.
For the time being, Wendy’s home base was a one-bedroom garden apartment in a quiet, nicely landscaped complex that was within walking distance of the school.
Usually, she found the short walk to and from work refreshing, but today she would’ve given anything for a bike or, better yet, a car. It was only a little after eight o’clock in the evening, but she was dying to crawl into bed and stay there until morning. The idea of a hot shower just before falling asleep was so enticing that it almost brought tears to her eyes. As tired as she was, she practically ran the last half block to her apartment complex.
* * *
The next day, after Wendy lost her equilibrium and had to grab the wall to keep from dissolving into a heap on the floor, the same female student who’d asked her if she was okay yesterday, asked again today. Only this time she added, “Dang, Miss Wendy, my sister’s in college in Atlanta and she came home just last week because she was having the same problem as you. She’s not a dancer, though.”
“Oh?” Wendy wiped the perspiration from her forehead with the towel that was dangling around her neck. “Is she burning the candle at both ends, too?”
“No, she’s pregnant.”
Chapter 6
“Have you been listening to anything I’ve been saying?”
The tone, more so than the question itself, was what caught Frazier’s attention. It wasn’t necessarily irritation that he’d heard in it, but he couldn’t completely rule out impatience. Either way, it was a definite hint that he wasn’t being a very good host.
Unfortunately, the question was a valid one and he could appreciate that the woman sitting a couple of feet away from him on his living-room couch had the guts to ask it. Another woman might have pretended not to notice that he was distracted and kept talking anyway, a concession that he would’ve immediately picked up on and been a little put off by.
But not Simone Patterson.
She was an NYU-educated attorney, in town only for the next couple of months while she and another partner in her New York law firm acted as cocounsel on a high-profile, politically charged embezzlement case. He’d been introduced to her at a charity fund-raiser a week ago and tonight was the first time that their schedules had both been clear at the same time, so they’d gotten together for a late dinner.
After-dinner drinks back at his apartment were her idea, but he hadn’t exactly protested when she’d brought the subject up, so he supposed the outcome was just as much his fault as hers. Simone was interesting and funny and sexy as hell, but, no, he hadn’t been listening to a word she’d said.
His smile was guilty and apologetic at the same time. “I’m sorry,” he said as he refilled their wineglasses. “I did wander off for a moment, but I’m back now.”
She took her glass with her when she sat back and crossed her legs, sipping slowly and eyeing him curiously. “So...who is she?”
A sip of wine almost went down the wrong way. It took him a moment of clearing his throat to get himself together enough to answer the question. “Excuse me?”
“Oh, come on now, Frazier.” When she smiled, the small gap between her even, white teeth flashed at him. “You’ve been wandering off all evening. I’m almost used to it by now, but the attorney in me can’t help but be curious. Was it a bad breakup or something?”
“Uh, no,” he said, chuckling. There was no way in hell he was about to tell Simone about the particulars of his relationship with Wendy. “Nothing like that.”
“So there is no woman?”
“Oh, there’s a woman, all right. But there was also a breakup and it’s over, so...”
“So you’d rather not talk about it.”
“Something like that, yes.” He reached for his own wineglass and sipped. “I would, however, like to talk a little more about you.”
“Okay. What would you like to know?”
He already knew that she was a successful criminal attorney, a full partner in a very well-known law firm, and she had only just celebrated her fortieth birthday last month. She’d never been married and she didn’t have any children. She liked to cook, though she didn’t get to do it very often, and she was the middle child in a family of seven. All of that, he’d learned over dinner.
What he couldn’t quite figure out, though, was why she was still single. And he’d been wondering about that all evening.
Simone was a walking, talking wet dream, with her Coke bottle figure, seductive brown eyes and smooth, shapely legs. She was petite and voluptuous, and just as capable of holding her own co
nversationally as she was at crossing her legs and making a man’s mouth water.
She was nothing like Wendy and that in itself should’ve been enough to hold his attention, but it wasn’t. He couldn’t imagine, though, that there was a shortage of men in New York who wouldn’t have an issue with staying focused on her.
“Why aren’t you married?” His gaze wandered to her ample cleavage for a second before returning to hers. “Or at the very least involved with someone?”
“What makes you think I want to get married or be tied down in a relationship?” Simone shrugged indifferently. “It’s not every woman’s dream, you know.”
Appreciating her more and more, he decided to keep it light. “It’s not?”
A warm, rich laugh curled out of her mouth as she shook her head at him. “Of course it’s not. I know it’s hard to believe, Frazier, but some of us women like things as uncomplicated and stress-free as possible.”
“Ah.” They stared at each other. The gauntlet had been thrown down.
“Take me, for instance,” Simone went on. “I travel a lot and I do miss sleeping in my own bed sometimes, but I also enjoy the change of scenery. So it’ll probably be a while yet before I decide I’ve had enough and cut back. Maybe I’ll be ready for a relationship then, and maybe I won’t. Right now, though, uncomplicated and stress-free works for me.”
“Yeah, but how exactly does that work? Do you just travel back and forth across the country, leaving a trail of broken hearts in your wake or...”
“Are you asking me if I’m a serial dater, Frazier?”
She was a straight shooter and he liked that. He liked that a lot. “Are you?” He watched her intense gaze drop down to his lips and narrow speculatively. Her tongue darted out and wet her top lip and arousal tried to whisper in his ear.
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