Page 31 of Dance with Me
“Tasha,” he panted out.“Kroshka.”
“Mmm?” She looked up at him, mouth full, his dick making one of her cheeks poke out. So fucking sexy.
He gave a shaky laugh and stroked her face. “Bedroom.”
Her gaze dropped to the floor and she slid him out of her mouth. “We shouldn’t.”
There were those words again. He hauled her up from the floor and pulled her in for a searing kiss.
“We should,” he whispered hotly against her mouth, and kissed her again, losing himself in the soft fullness of her lips.
When he pulled back and looked her in the eye, she nodded.
In that moment, they were closer than they’d ever been before. Vulnerability shone in her eyes, or maybe he was only seeing his own reflected there. Either way, he took a chance. “Because you can’t say no to me?”
Another nod, and she closed her eyes.
“Why, Tasha?”
Her reply was a mumbled, “I don’t know.”
He was too fired up to question her further. With a muttered curse, he kicked off his shoes and pants, leaving them on the kitchen floor. He grabbed the wine bottle and threw an arm around Natasha’s waist, hustling her into the bedroom.
They made quick work of their remaining clothing, then tumbled naked into his bed, kissing and drinking directly from the wine bottle until it was empty.
“This is a bad idea,” Natasha said as he leaned away to set the bottle on the nightstand.
“Stop saying that.” He scowled at her and crawled between her legs, pressing her into the pillows. “Sex is always a great idea.”
She propped herself up on her elbows to look at him. “They’re cracking down on backstage hookups.”
“We’re not backstage right now.”
It was solid logic, but from her glare, it was clear she disagreed. He tried again. “Hasn’t that always been an unspoken rule?”
“Yes, but now it’s been spoken out loud by my producer. If they find out I’m staying here . . . it won’t look good.” Her finely arched brows drew together, and he wanted to smooth them. He tried logic again.
“That never stopped you before.”
Her eyes went wide and her mouth flattened into a thin line. Withme,he meant, but she shot her retort at him before he could explain.
“It never stopped you, either!”
He narrowed his eyes. Yeah, it was true for him, too, but he had a bone to pick with her about the previous season. Maybe it was all the wine coursing through him, but now seemed like agreattime to bring it up.
Running his hand up her strong thighs, he settled his thumb into the sensitive spot below her hip bone, where leg met torso. “You fucked Jackson García.”
She tossed her hair, but he didn’t miss the sharp intake of breath when his thumb rubbed gently, circling closer to her pussy. “You fucked Lauren D’Angelo,” she shot back.
He lowered his head and teased the curve of her inner thigh with the tip of his tongue. “She thought it would help her get better scores.”
Her hips rocked as his mouth drew closer to her core. “Did it?”
He raised his head. “Did she win?”
“No.” She scowled and shoved his head back down into her lap.
Smothering a grin, he parted her folds with his thumbs and gazed openly at her. The attention made her squirm with anticipation, as it always did.
