A Slow-Burning Dance (4 page)

“I enjoy great music, good food, and the company of a beautiful
woman. Not necessarily in that order, but preferably at the same time.”

She squirmed in her seat as she took a long sip of her drink and
then tasted the curry once more. There was something incredibly sensuous about
enjoying a great meal with a handsome man who wasn’t afraid to show how much he
loved the food and drink. This man had a passion for life, as did she, and she
was drawn to people like that.

Chapter Four

Damien smiled each time Sela glanced around their box seat, over
the railing at the people seated below, or to either side to admire the view
beyond the Pavilion. The warm-up band was playing, but he doubted she heard
them. She was too busy shaking her head, her beautiful dark eyes filled with
awe. Each compliment she gave the venue was followed by yet another “thank you”
to him, until he was ready to beg her to stop doing it.

It wasn’t that he didn’t appreciate her gratitude, but she
simply didn’t understand that he was the one who should be on his knees,
thanking her for coming along tonight. Once
La Concepción
came out onto the stage, the noise
inside the Pavilion was deafening, but she didn’t seem to mind. She was on her
feet, cheering with everyone else. Damien stayed seated so he could watch her
lovely ass move under her dress.

It
was impossible not to stand and sway, however, once the music started. His dick
grew rock hard again as he watched Sela shake her hips and dance. Now he could
see why she had the dream of opening a studio, and why she had such a passion
for dance. She had a keen sense of natural rhythm, which didn’t surprise him,
but he also doubted she realized how damn seductive she looked dancing. She was
born to do it, and was very gifted.

As
for the music, he’d always loved the sound of guitars, claves, bongos, and a
marímbula. This was one of his favorite bands because it was the music of his
childhood. It fed his soul, reminding him of happier times before the world
turned dark and threatening.

When
Sela said something about the claves sounding like they were traditional ones
made of wood, not plastic like so many were today, he grinned. “I have an
antique pair at home made from rosewood.”

She
shook her head and pointed toward her ear, indicating she hadn’t heard him, so
he leaned closer. The smell of her shampoo filled his senses, and he tamped
down an urge to kiss her, right then and there.

He
repeated what he’d just said, and her eyes grew wide. “I’d love to see them.”

He
nodded, thinking he’d like to show her more than his collection of antique
musical instruments. Would that actually happen, or would he go back home tonight
with his desires unmet? The last thing he wanted to do was take advantage of
her, but he was only a man. This woman brought out the beast in him, and he
wanted her.

The
heavy beat of the bongos filled Damien’s head, evoking yet more images of life on
the surface and the emotions that went with the memories. It was impossible not
to dance when he heard music like this.

A
quick glance over the railing told him everyone else in the amphitheater felt
the same way, so without over-thinking it, he took
Sela’s
hand. There wasn’t much room in their private box, but it was enough to lead
her in a salsa. She put him to shame with her easy, sultry grace, but the
delighted smile on her face told him he had nothing to fear. She was an
instructor, after all. No doubt she was used to dancers far less skilled.

At
least she was smiling. Thank goodness for that. Everyone in the Pavilion was
dancing in the aisles below and on the grass off to both sides. Damien was sure
he’d come in his pants as Sela threw back her head and let out a cry of sheer
joy. She was so happy, and so fucking sexy with all that dark, curly hair
whipping around her face.

They
danced for nearly an hour, and when the band finally slowed things down and
people took their seats again, a fine sheen of sweat covered their faces. Sela
grasped Damien’s hands, her eyes filled with joy. “Thank you so much for this.”

This
time, he laughed. “Do you have any idea how many times you’ve thanked me this
evening?”

“No.
Tell me.” Her grin told him she was only teasing.

“At
least twenty.”

“Then
I’ll say it one more time. Thank you.”

He
didn’t dwell on what her reaction might be. He merely lifted one hand to his
lips and kissed the back of it before he lost his nerve. Sela’s grin faded, but
she wasn’t angry. Far from it. She looked ready to jump him, right there in
their seats. It was all he could do to keep from begging her to fuck him. They
stared into each other’s eyes for long, luscious moments until Damien couldn’t
take one more second. “Sela … I…”
Shit.
How could he ask this without sounding like the worst philanderer she’d ever
met?

“You
don’t have to say it.”

What?

“I
feel the same way, Damien. All I want to do right now is kiss you, but if I do,
I’ll wish we were someplace private because I very much doubt I’d be
comfortable making love to you here, in view of all these people.”

Damien
blinked several times, convinced he’d just hallucinated. When Sela leaned close
to him he didn’t hesitate. He let go of her hands, cupped her face, and kissed
her like he might never do it again.

****

Sela
didn’t know if it was the music, the way he’d danced with her, or everything
about this evening, but she wanted to do a lot more than kiss him. The words
had slipped out before she’d had a chance to clamp down her filters, but she
didn’t care. They were true, and had been spoken from the heart. Her mother had
once told her that such words should never be regretted because they were the
most sincere words one could possibly speak.

The
man could kiss. His lips and tongue moved over hers as if they’d been made to
do it on her mouth, and her mouth alone. She’d never been kissed like this. The
same passion she’d glimpsed in him all evening was evident in the way he held
her face and kissed her. What would it be like to make love to him?

The
band had stopped, and she vaguely heard something about an intermission. The
spell was broken, and Damien released her mouth. He gazed into her eyes with
uncertainty, and that in turn sent doubt creeping into her consciousness like
something sinister and dark. What the hell was she doing? She barely knew this
man.

“Sela,
I’m sorry.”

“Why?”

“For
losing control like that.”

“Damien,
I kissed you back. It’s not like you forced yourself on me.”

“We
barely know each other.”

She
had to avert her gaze so he wouldn’t see the truth in her eyes. Was he a mind
reader? Sela glanced below at the crowd streaming out of their seats toward the
concession stand. “I was caught up in the moment as well. Please don’t
apologize.”

He
placed a finger under her chin and gently turned her face toward him. “There is
nothing I want to do more than make love to you.”
Dios mío!
She wanted the same thing! “But the very last thing I
want to do is disrespect you, or lead you to believe this was all a set up so I
could get you into bed.”

What if I want to be in your bed?
“I don’t think that at all.”

The
relief on his face nearly brought tears to her eyes. “It’s just that you’re so
damn beautiful and seductive. You dance like nothing I’ve ever seen.”

You kiss like nothing I’ve ever
felt
. She forced a
smile to her face. “You’re not so bad yourself, you know.”

 
His smile helped calm her a bit, but only a
little. Every nerve ending was on fire for this man. “I’ll take your word for
it.” He stood, and her gaze went straight to his crotch where an impressive
bulge tented the front of his pants. “Are you thirsty? Shall I get us some
drinks?”

She
lifted her attention to his face. “Yes, please.”

“Are
you hungry?”

Yes. For you.
“After that meal? No, but thank
you.”

“I’ll
be back in a moment.”

Sela exhaled loudly and slumped back in her seat. What the hell
was she going to do? There was no way she could go home tonight and sleep.
She’d be up all night with erotic images dancing through her head. What would
Santino say if he found out she was this close to fucking his boss?

“What does it matter what he thinks?” she whispered. Santino was
her brother, not her father, although he usually forgot that. The way he tried
to shelter her and protect her was endearing most of the time, but downright
annoying as hell during times like these. It was no use pretending he’d never
find out if she and Damien had sex. He would. It was a given.

She was a grown woman. She could fuck any man she chose to, and
she didn’t owe her brother, or anyone else, an explanation. It had been so damn
long since she’d held a man and kissed him. Sela was lonely. She filled her
life with plans for her studio, and with her teaching, but what she really
wanted was more of what Damien had given her a moment ago. Much more.

She placed two fingers on her lips, tracing the outline. She
could still feel his mouth crushing them, and she could still taste him. Tiny
jolts of electricity ran up and down her arms as she closed her eyes and let
the memories of that perfect, molten kiss wash over her. She imagined his mouth
and tongue on her neck, her breasts, and her pussy, licking and probing until
he drew the most perfect, complete surrender from her.

As she pictured him undressing her, slowly, torturing her with
deliberateness, her hand moved across her breasts and then down to her thighs.
Her pussy was soaked. She didn’t need to reach under her dress to know that.
She hadn’t been this turned on in a long time, and Damien was as much the cause
of it as the music, the dancing, and the food earlier.

Her eyes snapped open, but he wasn’t back yet. If the size of
the crowd was any indication, it would be a while before he returned. She
closed her eyes again and tried to picture Damien naked. His clothes couldn’t
hide the muscles in his arms and torso, and she knew from what Santino had said
that he worked out regularly. If the erection she’d glimpsed was an indication,
his cock was more than adequate to satisfy her.

Sela’s hand slipped under her skirt, and she rubbed her panties.
They were, as she’d guessed, totally soaked. She really should have brought
along another pair, but it hadn’t occurred to her that she’d become so aroused.

How did Damien make love? Would he take his time, working her
into a frenzy, or would he go at her like a man who hadn’t had sex in a couple
of decades? Either way at this point would be fine with her. She liked it rough
and tumble, but it was fun to slow down as well. Maybe they’d do both?

She heard a noise behind her and jumped, pulling her hand free
and whirling around in her seat. Damien stood there, holding a cardboard tray
with large bottles of water and some kind of food in the center. She wasn’t
really focused on the food or the water. All she saw was the humor and molten
lust in his eyes.
Fuck. Shit.
He’d
seen her.
Madre de Dios
. There was
no
way to explain this away.

He gave her a long, searching look, and then finally took his
seat next to her. He handed her a bottle of water, placed the cardboard carrier
on the empty seat next to him, and picked up the food. It was wrapped in foil,
and smelled like beef and cheese. “This looked really good sitting there under
the heat lamps, but I might not be able to eat it all. Sometimes my head is
bigger than my stomach.”

Sela said nothing, keeping her gaze on the crowd streaming back
into their seats below. She took the top off her water bottle and drank about
half of it before stopping. Only then did she dare glance into Damien’s eyes
again. “Thank you for the water.”

“You’re welcome. I figured if you were even half as thirsty as I
was, you needed the large one.”

Was that a double entendre? His eyes twinkled with amusement.
She had to say something, as otherwise this would hang over them for the rest
of the evening, driving her crazy. He took another bite of his sandwich, and
she swallowed hard, getting ready for whatever comeback he shot her way. “I
guess I should have kept my eyes open.”

He nearly choked on his food, and she felt really horrible for
that. She should have waited until he’d swallowed it. When he recovered, he
grinned. “I was enjoying it and wished I hadn’t made any noise so you would
have kept going.”

Sela opened her mouth, but nothing came out. So many witty
comebacks flitted through her mind, but none of them seemed adequate. She
merely stared into his dark eyes.

“I’ve offended you.”

“No. No, not even close. I’m at a loss for words right now. No
one has ever caught me masturbating.”

Damien placed his sandwich on the seat next to him and took her
hands again. They were damp now, a combination of embarrassment and holding onto
the water bottle for dear life. “I’d love to watch you go further.”

“You mean now?”

His laugh was sultry and deep, and her pussy contracted in tiny
spasms at the sound of it. “No, but that is an intriguing idea. I was thinking
later, back at my apartment.”

There it was. One of them had finally put it out there as more
than a mere suggestion. All she had to say was “yes” and she’d find out if her
erotic daydreams were close to reality. She had no reason to say “no” other
than crazy misplaced guilt over what Santino would think. She never said shit
about the women he dated, so why should he have any say-so over her sex life?