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The evening had grown cool before Luke rose to his feet and, with an easy lift, helped Catherine to hers. “I could sit out here all night with you, but I ought to get on with my part of the evening while I still have the courage to go through with it.”
“No matter what it is, I swear I won’t laugh,” she vowed as she began to clear the table.
“Here, let me take the dishes,” he insisted, and he carried them into the house while she held the door. “We can load these into the dishwasher later after dessert.” He washed his hands, then laced his fingers in Catherine’s and led her into the living room.
“First, I’ll need some music.” The entertainment center held a CD player and an ample collection of CDs, as well as the radio they’d danced to and a television. He thumbed through the CDs, set a couple aside as possibilities, and then chose the Blues Brothers. “Soul Man will do.”
“It’ll do for what?” She sat on the end of the sofa, slipped off her sandals and pulled her feet up under her cinnamon-colored gauze skirt. The neckline of the matching peasant blouse slid down over one shoulder with a charming nonchalance.
Luke paced as he replied. “This is the most shocking revelation I can come up with on such short notice, and I’ll admit it was a brief stint, but for a while, I was one of the Chippendale dancers.”
Catherine responded with a delighted shriek. “You weren’t, not the staid Dr. Starns!”
He halted in front of her and rested his hands lightly on his hips. “I was a college kid and not in the least bit staid. It paid really well, but Marsha didn’t like my being gone at night or the fact I was dancing half naked for screaming women who’d crawl all over each other to shove ten dollar bills into my satin underwear, what little there was of it.”
“I know I promised not to laugh, but that’s just too much.” She gasped amid a burst of musical giggles.
He kicked off his loafers and began to unbutton his shirt. “Now, this isn’t Chippendale’s, and I don’t have the pants with Velcro down the sides, or the black satin bikini briefs, so you’ll have to use your imagination. Of course, I’m no longer in my twenties and didn’t have time to shave my chest, but I trust you to be kind.”
She raised her hands to stifle her laughter. “Please don’t apologize. If you were any better looking, I’d swoon right here!”
He shook out his arms and ran his hands through his hair in an excellent imitation of Elvis. “Thank you, ma’am.”
She howled again. “I’m not sure I can stand this.”
He placed the CD in the player and pressed the button for Soul Man. He turned up the volume on the driving beat and then glanced over his shoulder and winked.
C
atherine had expected him to relate some silly adolescent adventure, perhaps involving an English teacher, not launch into a pulse-pounding performance, but as he began to dance, it was all she could do not to scream with the same frenzy that had rocked Chippendale’s. It might have been more than a dozen years since he’d been paid for the provocative routine, but he still had every suggestive step down cold, complete with sly winks, and sex-charged pelvic thrusts.
He peeled off his shirt, teasing her every inch of the way. By the time he tossed it into her lap, she was weak from appreciative laughter and used it to dry her happy tears. Even when he was standing still, she’d always considered his lean muscular build handsome, but now every ripple of lightly tanned muscle called her name. Her cheeks filled with the heat of desire, and she wondered what she would have to promise to inspire him to dance for her again.
Luke flipped open the top button on his Levi’s, but he went no farther with his tantalizing striptease. But when he ground his hips with the music, he left so little to Catherine’s imagination that he might as well have been naked. When the lively song came to an end, he quickly shut off the CD, then dropped to his knees in front of her and rested his arms across her lap.
“I’d ask if you’d like to take me home, but luckily we’re already here.”
Catherine ruffled his silvery hair, then leaned forward to give him a long, slow kiss. “You needn’t worry I’ll ever tell a soul what I’ve just seen. No one would believe me.”
“Damn, I should have sworn you to secrecy first.”
“And to think you once claimed you didn’t dance well.”
He shrugged. “True, but I was referring to dancing with a woman, not doing a solo act. Although when you mentioned Dimitri, I’ll admit to feeling a twinge of guilt.”
His pulse throbbed at the base of his throat, and she swept her hair aside to lean down and press her lips against his heat-moistened skin. She was tempted to leave her mark on him but instead moved up to kiss his lips.
“You taste every bit as good as you look.” After brushing his arms aside, she slid off the sofa to join him on the floor. “You don’t know how glad I am that my living room is so much more private than Chippendale’s.” She combed the coarse hair circling his nipples, then bent to lick the tender buds.
He caught her in his arms and leaned back to bring them both down into the soft, cool carpet. “Let’s not take the time to go upstairs,” he begged between fervent kisses.
She slid down his chest and buried her tongue in his navel. “What stairs? You’re all I need. Although the pants with Velcro sides would be nice.”
He chuckled through her tickling kisses and eased his hips out of his Levi’s. “I’ve never danced for such a small audience, ma’am, but you’re easily the most appreciative.”
She helped him discard his jeans, then slid her hand into his briefs and wrapped her fingers around his rock-hard penis. “Did dancing always turn you on like this?”
“Hundreds of screaming women will turn on any man.”
