Page 59 of Take the Lead
The energy in the room changed. Stone had been aware of her all night—her outfit, which somehow managed to be cute and sexy at the same time, was hard to ignore—but now sizzling tension pressed in on him from all sides, and all he could focus onwas the feel of Gina’s skin under his hand. He shifted on the sofa, turning sideways so he could reach her with both hands. She tilted her head down to give him better access.
“More?” he asked, the word deep with desire.
“Yes.” Her voice was high and breathy, but clear.
He pushed the dark heavy mass of her hair over her shoulder and devoted himself to the task of making her feel good.
The air thickened. His breathing became labored, catching with every soft sigh and moan she uttered. He was working his hands down her back, his fingers tangling in the fabric of her shirt, when she surprised him by—holy shit, holy shit—leaning forward and pulling her shirt over her head.
Stone froze. Gina’s back was to him, now covered only by the thin blue band of her bra. He’d seen her back before, of course. The show’s costumes didn’t leave much to the imagination, and he’d had his hands all over her during practice. Still, there was a big difference between dancing with an entire camera crew and audience present, and being alone, on her sofa, when she’d just removed her shirt of her own volition.
She grabbed a hot pink throw pillow and held it to her chest, as if waiting for him to continue.
Stone stroked a finger down her spine, partly to touch her, partly to make sure this was real. “More?”
“Yes. And harder.”
He pressed his palms to her back, noting how big and rough they looked next to the smooth expanse of golden skin. She wasn’t complaining, though, so he continued kneading and pressing. When she sucked in a breath, he paused with his thumb on her lower back. “You okay?”
“Sorry. Old injury.”
“Gotcha.”
Noting the spot, he carefully worked the muscles around it, using gentler movements. Eventually, she let out a deep breath, and more tension eased from her body.
As he worked his thumbs along her spine, he skipped over thevery center of her back, where the band of her bra impeded his movements.
“Stone.”
“Yeah?”
“Take it off.”
Again, he stilled. Had she really…?
Yes, she had. So why was he questioning it? The woman had said to take it off.
Pulse pounding in his throat, he undid the clasp on her bra. But just to make sure he wasn’t reading the situation wrong, he asked once again, “More?”
Her head jerked in a slight nod, and a second later he got his reply: “Yes.”
Smoothing the straps over her shoulders, Stone shifted closer. As he ran his hands up and down her bare back, he curled around her and rested his cheek against her ear.
“Gina.”
She shivered. “Yes?”
“More?”
“God, yes.”
She turned, her lips seeking his. He claimed her mouth in a kiss even as she twisted in his arms, pink pillow and blue bra abandoned. Her tongue was warm, and she tasted like lemons. Her scent pervaded his senses, drugging him, as he lost himself in the movement of her tongue against his.
In a move made easy from weeks of dancing together, he scooped her up and settled her into his lap, then leaned over her, pressing her into the couch cushions. She tugged at his shirt, yanking it up.
“Take this off,” she said, panting. “For the love of god, take this off.”
He leaned back to pull off his T-shirt and in the process got his first glimpse of her naked breasts. Her nipples were pale brown and tight, and he groaned as he fell onto her, wrapping his lips around one pebbled peak.
