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“Dinner will be ready soon,” he said.
“It’ll only take ten minutes,” Cassie promised, trying not to smile at his horrified expression.
“Okay, ten minutes. But you…” he pointed at Delilah, “have to promise to go to bed on time tonight. No arguments.”
“I promise,” his little girl said excitedly. “Now let’s go dance.”
If the guys at the construction site ever found out about this, he would never live it down. They’d spent the first five minutes with Cassie patiently teaching Delilah three different moves for the new dance. And yeah, it hadn’t been bad watching as the woman he thought about constant-fucking-ly arch her back and lift her leg and spin around until he was dizzy just watching her.
She was so damn patient with his kid, too. That’s what he liked most of all. The way she didn’t blink when Delilah got frustrated. The way her voice stayed patient and calm.
And yeah, he liked the way his daughter responded to her. She clearly idolized Cassie.
He knew the feeling.
He’d spent the last few days alternately worrying that he shouldn’t be getting involved with his kid’s ballet teacher – and his band mate – and not being able to think about her without needing a cold shower because his body wanted her more than ever.
Truth was, it wasn’t only his body. He liked talking to her. He liked the way she’d tease him until he laughed. Like she’d found the little chink in his armor that nobody else knew about.
Their little secret.
Take last night. He’d called her to invite her to dinner because Delilah hadn’t stopped talking about it. It had been late by the time he’d called her because he wanted Delilah in bed first, or she would have begged to talk with Cassie.
And Cassie had admitted she’d just gotten out of the shower. And then she’d admitted that she’d touched herself a few times in there, thinking of him.
Fuck if that hadn’t made him as hard as steel. He needed to hear her do that again. So he’d sweet talked her into getting into bed naked. And touching herself the way he needed to touch her.
He’d talked her into an orgasm that made her groan his name out loud and damn if he hadn’t almost come in his pants even though he hadn’t touched himself at all.
“Are you hard?” she’d whispered.
“Painfully so.”
“I still owe you that blow job.”
He’d closed his eyes, thinking about the velvety warmth of her mouth. The way her eyes were wide and trusting whenever they were together.
And when the call was over, he’d stroked himself into oblivion. But it still wasn’t enough.
“You need to concentrate,” Delilah said, bringing him back into the here and now. “You’re the worst dancer, Daddy.”
“No he’s not,” Cassie said. “He’s just a beginner, that’s all. You were once, too.” She walked over, adjusted his position. Because yeah, he was in the first position, standing in his living room, his shoes off, his socks covering his feet as he tried to copy what his kid and Cassie were doing.
“Let me show you,” Cassie murmured, leaning down in front of him to reposition his feet. Her hands were soft, and he looked down to see her hair cascading around her face as she concentrated on him.
And then she looked up. “That’s it.”
“Show him second position,” Delilah said, clapping her hands.
“Ready?” she asked him.
“As I’ll ever be,” he muttered.
“Okay, here it is.” Cassie started in first – the one she’d taught him. Her heels together, her arms out in front of her and curved, like she was holding a large ball against her chest.
Then she stepped out, her feet still wide, her heels apart by about twelve inches. Her arms lifted, as graceful as a swan, until they were out to her sides, and yet still somehow rounded.
He could see the rise of her neck, the strong line of her spine. She was elegance in human form.
