Page 31 of Lovers' Dance

“Take me back to yours, please,” I said in a shaky voice, freaking out over my rash decision.

Matt’s head jerked around. He stared at me for a moment, started the car and put his foot down. I was amazed he didn’t get stopped, although I thought I saw the flash of a few speed cameras on our way to his home. I was trembling with nerves and anticipation when we pulled up in front his house. Matt hadn’t said a word. He came around to open my door, grabbed my hand, and got his briefcase and my bag out of the back before hurrying us up the few steps to his front door. His keys jangled as he impatiently opened up, then we were inside. He dropped our stuff and proceeded to tongue the life out of me. I pulled my wallet and cell out of my pocket and he tossed his phone somewhere behind us. He lifted me up against him so I could wrap my legs around his waist as we kissed passionately. I was running my fingers through his incredibly, soft hair, moaning into his mouth, while he effortlessly carried me through the house and up the stairs. He kicked his door open, heading straight for the bed when I pulled away gasping.

“Wait, Matt, I’m all sweaty. I—ahh.” My words stopped as he began kissing my neck, but I had been chased by a cop and, before that, had been dancing under the hot sun wearing a leotard, plus tutu. I needed a shower.

“Matt, please.” I gripped his hair and tugged.

“Poppet.” He groaned. “I can’t stop.”

“I’m sweaty. I want a shower first.” My voice could’ve been firmer, but he had resumed kissing my neck and it was distracting as hell.

“We’ll get sweaty again,” he breathed across my skin.

“I don’t care. I want a shower,” I insisted.

Matt growled, hegrowledat me, then strode to the ensuite with me in his arms. He didn’t wait for us to get undressed as we entered the shower enclosure. He turned on the shower, full blast, drenching us both. We still had our shoes on. Matt let me down and started tugging at my clothes. Off went my t-shirt, then my bra. I was struggling with the buttons of his wet shirt.Fuck it.He was rich enough to buy a new one. I ripped the shirt open. Matt leaned back, wet hair streaming down his face and grinned at me as he eased the torn shirt off.

“Bloody hell, woman.”

“Shut up,” I ordered, blushing at the harsh treatment endured by his shirt at my hands, as my favourite boots filled with water. Matt leaned down to kiss me, his fingers fumbling with the button on my pants. The water was cascading over us, flowing into our open-mouth kiss. It was freaking hot.

“Mwboots,” I warbled, trying not to drown as Matt explored the inside of my mouth with his tongue.

“Mmm,” he responded, unbuttoning my shorts and slowing starting to ease them and my panties down.

I pulled away gasping. “My boots are still on.”

Matt glanced down. His own shoes were soaked. He went to his knees and started taking off my boots. I rested my hand on his shoulders for balance as he manhandled them off. I dug my fingers into his shoulders, then bent over to press kisses across his nape. Matt groaned loudly and ran his hands up my legs. I was tingling all over, aching all over. Matt slid his hands over my shorts and pulled everything down. He made a sound at the back of his throat, almost feral-like, then started pressing kisses over my stomach, venturing lower. I gripped his hair and tugged until his upturned face stared at me.

“A proper shower first,” I said firmly.

Exasperation clouded his face as he narrowed his eyes at me in sexual frustration. I grinned at him, naked in front a kneeling man and not caring in the least. I was going to have sex with him today. After today, I would not be a twenty-six year-old freak of a virgin. I couldn’t wait for tomorrow.

Matt’s exasperation melted away at my smile and he got to his feet. He kicked off his shoes, peeled off his socks, then made short work of his belt before finally removing the rest of his clothes.

I ended up in the corner of the shower, eyes wide with shock and apprehension. Matt was big all over. Big and clearly aroused.

“Don’t come near me with that…that thing,” I warned. I had seen penises before. Fleeting glimpses if accidentally walking in on our male dancers at the studio whenever they changed. But Matt was big enough to make me pause; hell, I was frozen in the corner of his fancy, double-shower enclosure.

“Poppet.” He took a step towards me.

I grabbed the back scrub brush hanging from a hook, waving it at him like a weapon. “No, Matt. I changed my mind. It won’t fit. Stay back, goddamn it.”

He laughed, a deep, sexy, predatory laugh that sent shivers down my spine and took another step towards me.

“It will fit, don’t worry.”

I waved the brush menacingly. “It’s—your thing is as big as me. Stay back.”

He laughed and took another step. “That’s an outrageous exaggeration, poppet. Come here and let me soap your back.”

“It will hurt. I’ve changed my mind,” I said terrified. What if I ended up with internal injuries? I was small in comparison to his frame. It seemed impossible that he could actually fit inside me. Oh God. What was I doing?

Matt realized I was nervous, and he held a hand out instead of advancing like a wet, sexual nightmare preparing to ravish me. He swiped his water-logged hair off his face and smiled at me.

“Madi, I’ll be as gentle as physically possible. Come here.”

Bit by bit I edged away from the corner, avoiding any form of eye contact with his lower body. I took his hand and he raised it to his lips, pressing wet kisses over my hand while holding my gaze with his. His tongue flicked over my wrist, causing my eyes to close for a moment as my fingers tightened around his. I dropped the brush.

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