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“You have a sore neck?”
Michaela started to shake her head, then winced. Her neck was stiff.
“I can fix that for you.”
“No, no, it’s fine.”
Dylan scooted across the final distance between them and placed his hands on her neck. “Turn around.”
His voice was commanding, and he moved her so she sat between his legs, facing away from him. The seat was quite wide, allowing her to perch on the edge while he kept his back to the backrest. But her position was far from easy. She was too aware of his proximity, and especially of the muscled thighs on either side of her slender derriere.
“It’s probably nothing,” she whispered. The heat from his hands did delicious things to her skin.
“It’ll be from me throwing you around,” he said in her ear. “Dancers are always injuring themselves. I’ll fix you, though.”
As his hands started to knead the tension out of her muscles, Michaela melted further. Of course, dancers were always giving each other rubdowns. She tried not to think about them turning erotic.
But perhaps that was exactly what she needed. Maybe she really could relax her zero-personal-relations policy if she was very clear about it going no further. If it was just a bit of fun. He’d likely only be here for a few months. They were both consenting adults, and she already felt like she knew him better than people she’d worked with for over a year.
“Oh, that’s great,” she said. The melting was spreading throughout her body now. Time seemed to drip away, turning to liquid just as easily as her aching muscles relaxed. She shut her eyes and let herself be carried away by the sensations. Caught up in the easy sway of the boat, the warm lighting of the stage, and his hands on her neck, she drifted.
The mental picture she’d had of Dylan with all the different dancers returned to her mind, but this time instead of other dancers, it was her in his arms. The two of them swayed in time with the ship, blanketed by the music, part of the tune. In her mind, Dylan spun her out, and as he turned her back into his chest, he stroked the line of her jaw. Before she could say anything, he dropped her into a strong dip, holding her tightly, his face leaning over her.
He smiled as he slowly brought her back up to vertical and kissed her as he had only yesterday. His real hands on her shoulders coupled with the picture of him in her mind brought a new warmth between Michaela’s thighs.
A warmth that was spreading.
Gently, gently, he pulled her closer to him until her back rested against the width of his chest.
Oh, how warm. Dylan was delicious. Not only could he raise her temperature with just a touch, but he narrowed in on her insecurities and made her feel better about herself. He listened, he gave advice, and he truly seemed to grasp the difficult politics of her world. Without patronizing, he gave it to her straight. This man stirred her emotions with his talk of children and women’s successes. He understood her—understood her well enough to be more than just a fling.
Even through her clothes, she could feel the contours of his muscles, feel the heat of his well-built frame. The tips of her breasts prickled, pushing themselves against the thin lace of her bra. Where his arms brushed her, she felt the thrill of desire starting to build.
Dylan worked his way down her arms until he was massaging her hands. Their bodies now pressed together as one flesh, her back to his front. His fingers moved over her hands and down the tops of her thighs, drawing her back to him tightly. Her shoulders were completely relaxed, nestled into his chest, and she could feel tingling all along her arms where his fingers had rubbed at her skin. His breath was warm on her cheek, and she willed it closer.
As if responding to her desire, he snuggled in, and his lips brushed the bottom lobe of her ear. “Better?” he asked, his voice thick. “A little more?”
“Oh, much better, but perhaps just a bit more,” she said, hoping her voice didn’t betray just how much more she wanted. But it seemed Dylan already knew, because his teeth nibbled delicately at her earlobe while his hands released her thighs and spread their strength over her soft stomach, almost spanning her whole waist. His palms radiated warmth, and she felt the thrill of the heat rush through her body.
Hot. So hot.
Just in time, she stopped herself from loosening a button to cool off.
He rained a shower of tiny kisses over her neck, all the while practically purring his warm breath against her skin. A tiny moan remained trapped at the back of Michaela’s throat, and she arched her spine to fit more closely to his body.
Against the relaxed cotton of his dance pants and through her tight pencil skirt, Michaela felt the firm contours of his erection pushing into the base of her back. A charge ran through her, bringing the heat from inside to boil along the entire surface of her skin. Her breasts now strained urgently against their soft lace prison, and her nipples were hard pebbles trying desperately to find a mouth to soften them.
He must have sensed her need, because he turned her head, tipping it back and cupping her chin firmly in his hand. Looking into her eyes, Dylan pulled her face toward him, covering her lips with his. This time, the moan did escape, and Michaela whimpered into the warm recesses of his mouth.
The kiss was everything his massage and her fantasy had promised. He was tender but firm as he pulled her closer. Michaela’s hands went to his perfect chest. The tongue teasing her mouth open was hot and hungry, and Michaela opened her mouth wider to let it in. It was a completely different kiss from yesterday’s. That kiss had been hard and eager. This was soft and rich and deep and oh… Another moan escaped her.
Was kissing always like this? She tried to remember.
No, it can’t possibly have been this good.
Dylan stroked her neck and nibbled her bottom lip, causing a new run of shivers to light up her body. No, never like this.
Too soon, he drew his head away, his beautiful eyes full of passion. His hands moved to her torso, and she became properly aware that she was sitting sideways in his lap, his erection brushing against the outside of her thigh.
“Well, you certainly seem to be experienced at something,” she murmured.
A frown flickered over his forehead, and he kissed her again. This time, the passion was unstoppable, and Michaela found herself wishing he would release her breasts from their restrictions. She hoped he would lay her down on the long theater couch while the stage lights warmed them.
His hands started to stray up her sides, finally cupping her breasts. Her nipples aching, she groaned as his thumbs finally rubbed over one breast, then the other. “Dylan,” she gasped as his mouth released hers, but he hardly let her breathe before his mouth was back on hers, eagerly kissing her words away.
