“You ready to cut loose?” he shouted over the crowd that cheered them on, clapping along with the song.
Grace nodded and he picked her up and swung her legs to the left and then the right. A roll over the back and she landed on her feet, spinning like a top, her skirt flying around her thighs. Her hips switched side to side, and he drew her in and let the force of the dance pull her out. Spin. Swing. At one point, he lifted her and back-flipped her over his arm. Around and around she went until she was dizzy and laughing so hard she could barely catch her breath.
Minutes later the song ended, and Frank pulled her in close as the music slowed. One hand rested on her waist, the other held her hand. His chest rose and fell against hers, but he didn’t even look tired. He stared down into her eyes. Heat filled his expression, making her heart skip. The floor erupted in applause.
“Wow,” she said. “I guess you weren’t lying.”
“When your mother has a dance studio, you can’t help but pick up a step or two.” He glided her around and pulled her in tighter. “I’m having a great time. I’m glad you said yes.”
“I’m glad I said yes.”
“Then let’s not waste a minute.” Frank grinned. For the next two hours, they danced. When
In the Mood
started up, he led her to the table and pulled her chair out so she could sit. “I’ll get us some drinks.” And he was gone before she could tell him what she’d like. It didn’t matter, like everything else, he’d probably pick the perfect thing.
Grace collapsed back in her seat, fanning her face with her hand and smiling so hard her cheeks hurt. Never had she thought she could have so much fun on a date. As she went limp like a noodle, a trumpet began to play.
Frank
?
Grace snapped to attention and turned toward the stage.
There, standing center stage, his trumpet pointed up with the spotlight striking him, was Frank, and the sound coming from his horn, possibly the sexiest thing she’d ever heard. Grace scrambled to her feet and moved toward the stage. He hadn’t told her he was going to play.
Sneak
.
The party guests gathered around, crowding her out, creating a wall of clapping and cheering bodies in front of her. God, the man was talented. In that uniform, up on that stage, he looked like a living fantasy. His fingers flew over the keys with precision and pure artistry. Strong hands. The best. Grace’s stomach flipped and tightness settled into her pelvis.
The cut of the olive and khaki uniform only served to accentuate the width of his shoulders, and the way they tapered down to his hips made it seem as though the uniform was made for him. The spotlight shadowed the strong lines of his face and angle of his jaw. Hot. So hot.
Liquid heat soaked her crotch and her clit began to throb. Damn, she needed to get closer, and from all appearances, every other woman in the room wanted to be, too. Grace snorted at the row of females blocking her from her man. And he was her man. She tried to move between a pair of curvy blondes and they tightened the gap, cheering and screaming.
Damn. She’d have to change tactics.
“
Feel free to toss your panties up on the stage in appreciation
.” His words from the night before echoed through her head. Grace looked left and right. Nobody watched, or for that matter, could see with the room darkened. She reached under her skirt and wiggled the red lace down, stepping out and stooping down to pick them up as she pretended to adjust the buckle on her shoe. She rose slowly and balled them in her fist.
Getting them at his feet would be tricky, but it should get his attention. Half a dozen people blocked a clean shot, but she’d already made up her mind to do it. A little loft, a vertical shot, and they would hit the stage in front of him. The thought made her feel positively wicked.
She surveyed the room again. Still, nobody watched her. Frank continued to hold them enslaved, smoking up the stage, setting her heart on fire.
One.
Two.
Houston, we have lift off
. Her underpants flew into the air, up and over the heads of the screaming women, and maybe with a touch too much oomph. Down. Down. Grace’s eyes widened.
Oh, fuck, not there. Not there
.
“Vrrrrrrrrrourhooooooo,” The trumpet blared like a congested elephant. Grace slapped her hand over her eyes, peeking between her fingers.
Bad aim. Bad, bad aim
. Several heads swiveled in her direction.
Fuck
. Grace dropped her hand and looked around, too, doing her best to appear as though she also searched for the guilty party. Her tactics seemed to work, as the crowd’s attention returned to the stage where Frank had recovered and continued to play, her skivvies swinging back and forth with each movement he made. She clamped her hand over her eyes again. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. What was he thinking right now?
Three women dressed in Army Corps uniforms like the Andrews sisters moved onto the stage, surrounding Frank, and started to sing
Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy
as
In the Mood
faded. Frank didn’t miss a beat but transitioned into the song as though he didn’t have a pair of skivvies hanging off his brass.
Hell, better than she’d have done, if she could play. She would never have imagined he was that good. Not after the way he’d performed in the cemetery.
As the set ended, Frank grabbed the undergarment, hopped off the stage, and searched the room. When his gaze landed on her, Grace backed toward the main doors, ready to make a run for it. Heat rushed to her cheeks, and her heart pounded in her chest. Frank spun her lingerie on his finger and lifted a brow.
Yeah, those would be mine
. She blushed to her roots.
He tucked her underwear away and crooked his finger at her. Grace blew him a kiss and bolted. She didn’t look back to see if he followed, but charged out of the room and down the corridor, past the main desk and to an elevator. She ran inside and spun around as Frank caught the door and kept it from shutting. “Going up?”
“Going somewhere,” she said. Probably to Hell for all the dirty little thoughts going through her mind. Who cared what the crowd thought. She’d arrived with him, and she left with him, kind of.
He stepped inside, and the steel panel closed behind him. “That was a wicked stunt, Ms. Daniels.”
“The devil made me do it.”
“And what devil would that be” He hit a button and swiped a card he’d drawn from his pocket. Slipping it back as quickly.
She licked her lips. “Why, that bugle guy up on the stage.”
He growled and in three steps had her pinned against the side, his hands laced in her hair and his mouth on hers. And like everything else he did, he did it well. Grace’s stomach went through a series of tumbles. A knee slid between her legs and pried her thighs apart, forcing her to rub up against a very obvious erection. He broke the kiss and pressed his lips to her ear. “Come to my room. Stay the night with me.”
“Yes,” she gasped, knowing she could do nothing else. Wanting nothing more than to get him naked and ride him until she was bow-legged, as Maggie had so inelegantly put it the night before.
Ding. The elevator lurched to a stop and Frank swung his body around and leaned against the wall as it opened, crossing his arms over his chest. Grace’s cheeks flamed hot. An elderly woman stepped on, looked them up and down, gave them a knowing smile, and backed out. “I’ll take the next one. Looks crowded.”
The moment it shut, Frank was on her like pine pitch. One hand sliding up the back of her leg and squeezing her bare ass, the other had the small of her back, pulling her into his hips as he ground against her. His mouth claimed hers with heat and fervor, spiking her blood pressure and sending her heart rate sky-rocketing. Her lips parted and he intensified the kiss, staking claim, making it clear what kind of a night she was in for. Frank didn’t do anything half-assed.
When the bell dinged again, he didn’t stop, but swung her around and backed her off. Frank yanked his cover off his head and reached up to drop the cap over the hallway security camera. He shoved her against a wall, one hand pushed up under her skirt, the other made its way inside her bra, stroking the nipple until it became like stone. Each brush sent jolts shooting through her pelvis.
He pinched the bud. Not hard, not soft, but enough to cause her to gasp and cream to trickle down her thighs. His mouth was on her neck, kissing along her jaw, while the thumb of his other hand stroked her clit. Grace arched into him. He pushed two fingers inside her, continuing to work his thumb across the sensitive bud. Lights exploded across her vision.
“Oh.” She threw her head back and knocked a little clarity into her brain as she smacked the back of her skull against the wall. “Frank. We’re in a public corridor.”
“No we’re not. This is the penthouse, and the entire floor is ours. Private corridor. We’ll start here.” He pushed deeper. She moaned. “And then over there.” He glanced down the corridor toward a bench. “Inside the room. On the bed.” He nipped her ear. “In the shower. Against the wall. I’m going to take you until we both can’t walk. I’m going to fuck you hard and fast, sweet and slow. I’m going to make you sing, Grace. I’m going to hear you cry my name over and over, and when I’m done, I’m going to do it again. I’m going to play you like my instrument, and you, baby, are going to come for every bar you made me miss.”
“Don’t make threats, you won’t keep.” She dug her nails into his jacket as he intensified his efforts.
“I fully intend to keep them.” He curled his digits up, hitting her G-spot.
The muscles in her pussy tightened, and her breath hitched. She forced the climax away. Not this soon. “Frank.”
“Come, Grace.”
She couldn’t stop it. His words vibrated through her body, as the orgasm took her over the edge. Pulsing, pounding through her body. Her pussy clenched and unclenched around his fingers. Throbbing as he continued to fuck her with them. Never had she reacted that way to a man’s touch. God, he had her amped on high.
“One.” He sank to his knees, lifted her knee onto his shoulder and licked her pussy, spreading her open with his hands and devouring her as though he starved for the taste of her.
Grace cried out and fisted his collar. “Oh God, oh God. Frank, pleaseeee….”
Tongue, lips, teeth. She came again. Never that fast. Never twice in a row.
“Two,” he said, rose to his feet and swept her into his arms. “Bench next.”
How many bars had she made him miss when she’d tossed her panties on him?
He set her on the bench and dropped back to his knees. Lifting his hand, he looked at it, and then showed her the black eyeliner that had come off during his vigorous grope. “Forgive me. It appears I’ve smudged your stockings.”
“It comes off easy.”
“Like your other undergarments? Do you have any idea what a tease it is to see you flash those red panties all night and then throw them at me? You’ve been a very naughty girl, and I’m going to have to do something about it.”
“How many bars did I make you miss?”
He chuckled. His gaze locked onto hers, scorching her through her clothes. “Count them, sweetheart.” He ran his hand up her leg, lowered his head, and kissed along behind it. “Where were we?”
“Shit.” Grace arched and scooted back the moment the pads of his fingers touched her clit, the intensity almost too much to take.
Frank grabbed her hips and pulled her back. “Not so fast. I’m warming up.”
Chapter Five
Frank couldn’t get enough of her. His balls ached, his cock throbbed, begging him to sink deep into the swollen pink flesh spread out before him like a buffet. Hot. Wet. Tight. He could only begin to imagine what she felt like, and before he was done, he’d know. But not quite yet. He wanted to draw it out, taking his time to convince her he wanted more than a one-night stand.
A hell of a lot more.
He hadn’t a clue how many bars he’d missed, but he’d make it up as he went along. Not knowing seemed to make her hotter than blacktop in Georgia at high noon. He slipped his fingers back inside her and added his tongue, savoring the taste of her, the way she whimpered from the back of her throat, and the little jerks of her hips as she fought to maintain control.
Not going to happen. Tonight Grace was his, and the last thing he intended to do was let her hold back. As she came for a third time, he lifted his head and grinned. “Three.
“How many bars did you miss?” she asked. “‘Cause I have to tell you, three times is a record. I don’t think I can walk.”
Frank pulled her to her feet and hefted her over his shoulder. “Then I’ll carry you.” The woman was fucking gorgeous, with her kiss-swollen lips and stunned gaze, even more enticing knowing he’d been the one to put the lust on her face.
He moved into a large sitting area, past a sunken bath that could fit ten and through a set of double doors, where he tossed her on the bed. She bounced as she hit and looked up. He didn’t break eye contact as he shed his jacket, tossing it over on a chair. “Strip.”
“You first.”
Frank toed off his shoes and loosened his tie, pulling it over his head then dropping it to the floor. “Tell you what. Whoever’s naked first, gets to be on top.” He gave her a lecherous grin and was rewarded with a rosy blush, coloring her cheeks.
“Okay.” She climbed off the bed. “On the count of three.”
“One,” Frank said and lifted his hands to the top of his dress shirt. She did the same, bracing for the count like a racer on the blocks, her hands behind her neck. “Three.” Frank unbuttoned the collar, and tugged the shirt over his head, including the T-shirt underneath.
“That’s cheating,” she said, as she fumbled with the hooks down the back of her blouse.
“You had a head start. I’m evening the field.” He ripped his belt off and undid his fly and dropped his boxers and pants all at once.
She froze and gasped, staring at his cock, hunger in her eyes. The tip of her pink tongue touched the center of her lip. Yeah, he had it, enough to put a smile on her face and now she knew. She snapped out of the spell and tossed her blouse and bra to the side, moving fast, but not fast enough. Her skirt puddled around her ankles as Frank yanked his socks off and stood, as bare as the day he was born.