Dance With Me (7 page)

“What I did, Kim, was write a fucking amazing article. Something you might try sometime. Just for a change of pace.” She had to brush past Kim to get out of the bathroom. Kim grabbed her, the talons of one manicured hand digging into Sherry’s bicep.

Her jaw thrust out like a bulldog, she spoke through gritted teeth. “Something smells off about this. And when I find out what it is, you’re going down.”

“You’d better let go of my arm, or you’re going to be the one going down, as in, on the ass of your emerald green culottes. I’m a black belt in jiu jitsu.” She looked at Kim, her face neutral, her eyes not blinking. She didn’t even know if you could get a black belt in jiu jitsu, but she was willing to bet that Kim didn’t either.

Kim’s lip curled in a sneer, but she let Sherry’s arm go. Tossing her hair, she hobbled away, letting the bathroom door swing closed behind her. Sherry waited until she heard the
bing
of the elevator before she followed her out. Kim hadn’t scared her, exactly, just given her a little wake-up call. Being involved with Alexi while investigating his company was a knife-juggling act. Kim had just reminded her that if she happened to drop one of those knives, Kim would be on the sidelines, watching it slice through her professional dreams.

Back in the newsroom, Sherry stuffed her laptop into her bag and slung it over her shoulder. “Hey, there,” she called to an intern across the room who was still hunched over his laptop. “You like Pad Thai?”

Taking off his earphones, he nodded. She slapped a twenty on his desk. “It’s all yours. Should be here in five. I’ve got to go.” She had been planning to make some more calls before leaving, but the conversation with Kim had shaken her more than she wanted to admit. She needed to get out of there, ASAP.

Two subway stops and a short walk later, she was back in her walk-in closet-sized studio. It didn’t feel like home anymore, she realized. Maybe it never had. It was just a place to sleep and change her clothes. Home, if she had such a thing, was the office. That was where she spent most of her time, where she felt most like herself. That was her safe space. But something had changed, and it wasn’t just because of Kim’s escalation of their cold war.

Reaching into her closet for her overnight bag with one hand, she pulled clothes off hangers and out of drawers with the other. A pair of jeans joined a couple of long-sleeved tees and her favorite merino wool sweater, as well as a few pairs of underwear—her sexiest—a bra and some socks. On impulse, she added a dress and a pair of heels to the mix. She grabbed her toiletries case from the bathroom and threw that in, too. Then, checking the lock on the one window, she left.

As she sat on the train, Sherry fingered the key in her pocket, wondering how Alexi would react to her showing up at his place with a bag full of clothes. It was a small bag, at least, so it didn’t look like she was moving in, more like she was staying for the weekend. Thinking of Alexi, she realized she had never texted him back. She took out her phone and texted.

But I like playing with you.

He was in the middle of his performance, she knew, but after he gave his last bow, it would be waiting for him. And when he came home, she would be waiting for him.

Naked.

Chapter Nine

Sherry hadn’t meant to fall asleep. She’d picked up some groceries at Whole Foods and she had a pot of her mother’s famous chili-spiked chicken-coconut laksa bubbling away on Alexi’s stove, another pot of hot water at the ready to soften the rice noodles that would be added at the last minute along with bean sprouts, cilantro, and a sprinkling of chopped peanuts. The plan was to greet Alexi at the door holding a steaming fragrant bowl, wearing nothing but a thong, but after she showered, she was overcome with the need to lie down and shut her eyes, just for a moment.

She sank onto the bed, belly down, not bothering to turn back the plush down duvet. The cotton of the duvet cover was cool and smooth under her bare skin. The pillow was a cloud, holding her head. Her eyelids were so heavy. It had been a long day, filled with incredible highs and lows, with an even longer night before it. Not that she regretted it, but there hadn’t been a whole lot of sleeping going on. She’d just close her eyes. Just for a second.

It was only when she felt a hand, firm and warm and gentle, caressing her bare buttock that she became aware that she’d been sleeping.

“Alexi?” She turned her head to look, though she knew by his touch that it was him. The soft sweeps of his hand seemed to light a fire under her skin. In her most private parts, she was already tingling, moist, ready for him.

From the look in his eyes, he was ready for her, too. He sat on the bed beside her, still wearing his jacket. A half-smile played over his slightly parted lips as he smoothed the hair off her face. Running the back of his hand over her cheek, he brushed his knuckles over her lips. Electric currents zinged from her lips to the hot V between her legs. His eyes were so full of desire, she wanted to look away, but she couldn’t. She was trapped by his gaze. Her lips opened, almost involuntarily, and she took his index finger into her mouth, pulling it with her tongue, sucking it. He moaned, his eyes half-closing, and she felt a corresponding throb between her legs.

She loved how he looked like this, vulnerable, at the mercy of his desire for her. It made her want to kick it up a notch. She wanted to have him completely in her power. She wanted to own him.

Her gaze still holding Alexi’s, she arched her butt and slid one hand under the silky fabric of her thong, and into the soft wetness below. With two fingers she found her clitoris, and sucking harder on his finger as she circled her pelvis, she pushed her fingers deeper, writhing against her hand. He watched her, his jaw clenched shut, almost as if he was in pain, and his eyes turned black with lust. His hunger for her only increased her desire. She was dizzy with it, drunk on lust. As was Alexi.

“Oh, Sherry.” His voice was a husky whisper. “What are you doing to me?” Retrieving his finger from her mouth, he shed his jacket and pulled his shirt over his head in one lightning-fast move. She was distracted by his near nakedness, but she didn’t stop moving against her hand. Her eyes roved over his naked torso, the strong muscles in his arms and chest and stomach, the narrow trail of hair from his navel to what she knew was beneath his jeans. The thought sent a surge of moisture to her lady parts. Her pleasure-bud swelled, and her fingers slipped over the slick surface.

“I told you I wanted to play with you.” She panted, arching into her building pleasure. “Come here. I need you in my mouth. I want to come with you in my mouth.”

The look in his eyes told her that he wanted that, too, but he wasn’t going to let her win that easily. His eyes not leaving hers, he opened his fly, achingly slowly, and there it was huge and hard, almost pulsing in its engorgement. Sherry moaned, licking her lips. She was so close, so close.

“You want this?” he asked. His hand gripped it and slid down the length of it, then back up. He caressed the head with his thumb, drawing circles around its tiny opening, his eyes half-closed, watching her. Sherry had to lift her hips away from her hand to stop herself from coming.

He moved closer to her and brushed her lips with its silky head. She flicked her tongue out to lick its silken surface. He let her, but held her face back, restraining her from taking it into her mouth the way she wanted to. One lick, two. That was all he let her have before he shifted his hips away from her and, sitting down, bent over her. His lips were close to her ear, the warmth of his breath sending another throb of pleasure to her core. She reached to touch herself again, but he grabbed her wrist, stopping her.

“You like to play, but you don’t play fair,” he said. “You know you have to take turns. It’s my turn now.”

He kicked off his jeans and, still holding her wrists on either side of her hips, climbed on top of her. She squirmed beneath him, both loving and hating the feeling of being restrained. It was delicious torture. What made it all the more exquisite was that she knew the wriggling of her nearly naked ass was torturing Alexi in the same way.

Straddling her, with his knees at her calves, he bent low so that his face was just above her butt. He brushed his cheek against it, hard, his rough stubble igniting sparks on her skin and between her legs. A harsh gasp escaped her lips. His lips soft, he kissed the same place he had abraded, soothing it. Opening his mouth, he pressed the soft moistness of his tongue against it. She moaned, low and throaty, unable to contain herself. He closed his teeth on her skin, biting her, not hard enough to leave a mark, but hard enough to make her gasp again.

“Now who’s not playing fair,” she said.

He laughed, a low, dirty chuckle. “Spread your legs a little. And lift your hips, high.”

She did, saying, “Only if you’ll give me what I want.”

“Oh, I will.” His lips thrummed against the sensitive skin of her ass. “But first I will take what I want.”

Releasing her hands, he slid his fingers under the delicate lace of the strap of her thong, up to the waistband then down. His fingertips brushed feather-light over her tailbone, her anus, and skirted along the edge of her nether lips. She inhaled sharply as shivers of sensation slithered to her core. She wanted those fingers inside her, but she didn’t want him to stop what he was doing either, running his fingers down along the edges of her lips then up over her spine to her waist, barely touching her.

Moving his knees to the inside of her calves, he stopped, putting both hands under her waistband and scraping her thong slowly down over the curve of her buttocks, letting it drop to her knees.

“Oh, Sherry,” he breathed. He curved over her then, chest to her back, thighs pressed against hers, the thick shaft of his desire curving under her, separating her lips and touching her lower belly. She felt how badly he wanted her, how hard he was and, overcome with lust, aching with it in every part of her body, she wriggled, trying to slip him inside her.

He shifted away from her then. “Uh-uh. Not yet,” he scolded. “What happened to needing me in your mouth?”

“I do,” she moaned. “But I need you there, more.”

He laughed again. “There is time for both, but first…” Without warning, he slid two long fingers into her.

She was so ready, so primed for him, that she couldn’t stop herself from coming. She cried out, tightening around his fingers as she came, suddenly and violently, bucking like a wild horse. The waves of pleasure rippled out from her core to every part of her body. Even her hair felt electrified.

As if her orgasm was almost too much for him, Alexi pulled his fingers from her and gripped her hips, ready to plunge into her, but she rolled onto her side, twisting away from him.

“Uh-uh-uh.” She shook a finger at him, shivers of pleasure still vibrating under her skin. “Now who’s not playing fair? You promised.” She lay on her back, legs bent to the side, bound by her thong, her hair fanned out around her. She knew she looked good. Edible. The look in Alexi’s eyes told her, the way they scanned her body, and the way his chest rose and fell like he had just spanned the stage in a circle of leaps. Using both hands, she pinched her nipples, rolling them between her thumbs and fingers as she ran her tongue slowly along her upper lip, letting her mouth fall open slightly. Alexi’s eyes closed to half-mast, and he groaned.

Taking advantage of his lust-weakened state, she reached for him, drawing his thick hardness into her mouth. He was smooth and firm and delicious, smelling of soap and pure masculine musk. She felt a twitch in her lady-parts again. Sliding one hand down the center of her torso toward the itch that demanded scratching, she gripped his buttocks with the other. She held him steady, her mouth sliding up and down his length as her fingers sank into her moist folds.

Feeling his hand on hers, she stopped both movements, looking up at him.

“Let me.” He moved her hand up to her breast. Drawing him in deeper into her mouth as she looked into his eyes, she twisted her nipple. She moaned around his hardness at the spears of pleasure that traveled from its hard point straight down to where Alexi’s fingers stroked her. Feeling her shiver of pleasure, his eyes grew darker and his jaw clenched as he fought to hold off his own orgasm.

“So wet for me,” he said. His fingers thrust into her then back out to find her clitoris thrumming with pleasure. It was all she could do to keep up a steady rhythm, pulling him into her mouth and letting him out, as his fingers worked her most sensitive part. She moved her head faster, increasing the tempo with her quickening need. Feeling her starting to come, he rubbed her faster, his long fingers working her into a frenzy.

She pulled him into her mouth as far as she could as her climax crested, radiating out from her core, knocking all reason from her brain, leaving her a quivering bundle of sensation. He came, then, filling her mouth with salty, viscous liquid that she gulped like water.

“Sherry!” he cried. She tightened her grip on his hips as his pelvis rocked against her. His movements slowed. Slower, slower, slower, until he pulled out of her mouth with a groan. He collapsed beside her.

Rolling onto his back, he turned to look at her. As his eyes explored her face, his chest was rising and falling rapidly. She put her hand on it, feeling his rollicking heartbeat. Wrapping his hand around hers he panted, “Well, I think you won that one.”

She laughed. “You mean because it was two to one in my favor on the orgasm scoreboard?”

He shook his head, smiling. “No. Because you conquered me. Killed me. With this.” He ran his finger over her lips.

She opened her mouth and grabbed his finger between her teeth, giving him her best Jaws impersonation.

He pulled his hand back, laughing. “Ouch. I’m glad you didn’t use those.”

“That wouldn’t really be to my benefit, now would it?” She smiled. “I mean, the last thing I want to do is damage you.”

He took her face in his hands, suddenly serious. “You know, that’s the last thing I want, too. To damage you. You understand this?” He searched her eyes for confirmation.

Frank’s ugly mug flashed through her mind. The assignment. Conflict of interest. Feeling intensely uncomfortable under his gaze, Sherry rolled away from him and stood up.

“Well, if I don’t eat something soon, I may do some damage. You don’t want to see me when I get hangry.” She gave him her sharkiest grin. “And you must be starved. I made laksa. My mother’s secret recipe. Guaranteed to satisfy or your money back. Not that you spent any money.” She was babbling again, and she regretted having told him that she babbled when she was nervous.

A look of hurt or confusion crossed Alexi’s face for a moment, but it was quickly replaced with a smile. He leaned back against the pillow, his arms folded under his head. “I’m already satisfied, but if you want to feed me, I won’t resist. It smells … intriguing. Like you, Sherry.”

Pulling his abandoned tee on over her head, she pushed the swinging door open with her hip. “Hope you know how to use chopsticks.”

Later, as they lay in bed, full and sleepy, Alexi ran a gentle hand over her hair. His eyes looked at her in wonder, as if she were some rare natural phenomenon, like the northern lights.

“You are so beautiful, Sherry. Like a goddess.”

Her first impulse when someone complimented her was to say something sarcastic, but she kept her mouth shut, not wanting to break the spell.

“My father took me to Siberia when I was ten. He was working there, in an oil refinery. I had seen him maybe two times before that I could remember. He was a stranger with sad eyes and a cloud of vodka around him so thick you could light it. He picked me up at the academy and took me on the train to this land of white and blue where even your breath would freeze as it came out of your mouth.”

He pursed his lips and let out a puff of air, his hand opening like a flower in front of his mouth, demonstrating. His eyes had gone hazy.

“He disappeared back to the refinery, or to the pub, I don’t know. Most of the time I was there, I sat in front of a coal stove with a fur blanket on my shoulders, burning my fingers on glasses of tea and listening to the stories of an old woman who told me to call her Baba. But I remember walking from the station when we first arrived, seeing this woman like I have never seen before. She was tall, like an Amazon, and slim. Fox-fur coat and hat. And under it, long black hair, black almond eyes and a mouth like a cut plum. I could hardly breathe for the cold, but what breath I had left, she took it. She was so beautiful.”

He seemed to come back to himself, his eyes focusing on her face again. “When you walked into the studio that first time, I thought of her. But now I realize, there is no comparison.”