Unwrapped (9 page)

Chapter Two

I followed her down to the other end of the parking structure, where giant lights illuminated an open space. It was a cool day, but with huge heaters set up and so many bodies bustling around, the air didn’t feel overly chilly. Cameras surrounded the area, and people with headsets and clipboards darted here and there, some holding coffee cups. I nearly whimpered at the sight. “Where’s the coffee?”

“On the table over there.” She pointed toward a long table set up with commercial coffee machines and cardboard to-go cups. My eyes lit up and I took off in that direction. I didn’t get more than five feet before crashing into some guy, hard. The force of the impact knocked me backward, but he caught me by the elbows and held me until I regained my balance and my senses.

It took a while.

My lower lip fell open as I drank in the nearly six feet of gorgeous standing in front of me. It had to be the dancer. He wore an impeccable black suit, and a white tuxedo shirt open at the collar. It gave the impression he’d been in the process of undressing after a night out. Even his short brown hair was slightly messy, and his jaw was covered in neatly edged stubble. “Excuse me. Are you all right?” he asked.

Oh dear God, he had an accent. A Spanish accent.

And eyes in a shade of blue so soft they were almost gray.

“Hello? Are you all right?”

Say something. He thinks you’re hurt. Or mute.
“Coffee,” I blurted after several constipated seconds.
Brilliant.

He smiled. “They must have very good coffee here to make you move so fast.”

I laughed nervously. If I was Lucy, I would have some coquettish remark at the tip of my tongue, but all I could do was stare. And
oh my god
, he was still touching me. We both glanced down at his hands circling my upper arms.

My pulse quickened, and the air around us became charged with something that made my hair stand on end.

Our eyes met again, and this time instead of concern in his face, I saw something else—curiosity.

My nipples tingled inside my bra. I inhaled, my breasts rising, and held my breath. Then for one incredible second, I thought he was going to kiss me. But his eyes dropped briefly to my chest, and I felt the flutter of arousal between my legs.

Holy shit. I think I might have number three right here by the coffee table.

Then he let go of me and stepped back. “Well, the coffee is this way.” He couldn’t really pronounce the th sound, and it was goddamn sexy. He gestured to his left, and it was goddamn sexy. “Enjoy.” He cocked his brows, and it was goddamn sexy.

As he walked away, I didn’t even bother to keep my eyes off his ass.
No, no, please! Don’t go! Put your hands on me again! You don’t understand—I need number three! I want you to be number three!
In a moment, my brain regained somewhat normal function, but my heart continued to pump hard. I made my way to the coffee table and poured myself a cup, fairly certain that I’d just experienced the most erotic moment of my life, fully clothed in a roomful of people. It was like a scene from a book! Except in a book he probably would have at least asked my name. Or kissed me…
licking into my mouth with his hungry, demanding tongue
. Distracted, I poured too much coffee and it overflowed my cup.

“Crap.” I mopped up the mess with a small napkin.

When music echoed through the cavernous garage, I decided to forego my usual cream and sugar so I didn’t miss anything. After a quick gulp, I hurried back to where Lucy stood, my coffee sloshing. The guy in the suit stood in the center of an open space talking to a man with a clipboard, and a shiny black Cadillac was parked to one side of them.

“So that’s the dancer?” I licked up a rivulet of hot coffee running down my hand.

She frowned at me. “Nice. Yeah, that’s him.”

“What’s his name?”

“Nicolas, I think? He said it so fast I kind of missed it. Plus I was distracted by his hot-ass self.” She laughed. “I barely heard a word he said.”

The music stopped and started a few times while a director spoke with Nicolas, who appeared to be asking about different angles of the shot. “What’s his partner look like?”

Lucy grimaced. “Gorgeous. Thin with big tits—totally unfair.”

“Figures.” I sipped my coffee and paused dramatically. “I bumped into him when I went for coffee.”

She whipped her head toward me. “What! On purpose?”

“No, by accident. And he
touched
me. We had a moment.”

“Shut up!” Laughing, she slapped me lightly on the arm. “Did you talk to him?”

“Yeah. I said one word—coffee.”

Lucy looked horrified. “That’s it?”

“Yep. He never even asked my name. But the way he looked at me…I don’t know, I just
felt
something.”

She smirked and looked at Nicolas again. “I’ll bet you did. It’s called wet panties.”

I sighed and sipped my coffee, ogling him over the rim of the cup.

A young woman in formal clothing and heavy makeup crossed in front of the Cadillac and approached Nicolas, and my shoulders slumped. It had to be his partner, and Lucy hadn’t exaggerated—she was easily the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen in real life. Perfect body sheathed in a sexy, one-shouldered black column dress with a high slit, hinting at legs that went on forever. Huge dark eyes accented with thick cat-eye liner. Chin-length espresso hair worn in loose curls around her face. Luscious mouth covered with siren red lipstick. Nicolas whispered something in her ear and she smiled mischievously, revealing blindingly white teeth.

Damn.

She bent at the waist to adjust an ankle strap on one of her mile-high heels, which put her curvy little butt in the air. I stared at it, along with every guy in the room and probably half the women too. Then she straightened and Nicolas took her arm. They chatted briefly, heads close, before he laughed and scanned the crowd surrounding the dance floor. He appeared to be looking for someone, so I was shocked when his gaze stopped on me. My breath caught. A slow grin tipped his lips, and he nodded, dropping his eyes to my coffee.

Oh. Right.
My excitement deflated as I realized he was just acknowledging that I’d managed to procure a cup of joe without further mishap. He leaned in to whisper to his partner again, and this time she turned around and looked at me as well. To my surprise, she flashed me a warm smile.

She probably feels sorry for you. He totally just told her you’re the poor klutz who plowed into him by the coffee table.

“So what’s
her
name?” I asked Lucy. “Or were you too distracted by her hot-ass self to catch it?”

Lucy laughed. “It’s Valentina.”

God, even her name was perfect. Sighing, I watched them take their places as the director indicated. Nicolas stood facing the crowd, facing me straight on actually, and Valentina moved behind him. His teasing smile of a moment ago was gone, and his expression appeared serious, almost angry. He planted his feet wide, and held his arms slightly away from his body, chest lifted. For some reason, the confident, open stance made my insides tighten, and I squeezed the muscles at my core.
Jesus. He hasn’t even danced a step yet.

Lucy leaned toward me. “His posture is very…erect,” she whispered in my ear. “It’s turning me on.”

“Me. Too.”

Nicolas closed his eyes as the music started. The crowd hushed, even though the actual sound would be added to the finished ad later. But it was hard not to be mesmerized by the scene.

The song opened with a few melancholy bars on the piano, and one of Valentina’s hands snaked around his side and up his torso, fingers spread wide. As he covered her hand with his own and moved it over his heart, he opened his eyes.

And stared.

Right. At. Me.

Like, not even trying to hide it staring. Excuse me while I burst into flames staring. Get over here and ravage me now staring.

I started to pant.

Their bodies swayed to the right, and she slipped her hand out from under his. Slinking around his side, she dragged the top of her foot up his calf before stepping over it and turning so her back was to his front.

He still watched me over her shoulder. I still panted.

Valentina’s arms drifted out. A hint of a smile ghosted those red lips, and suddenly I understood the story—the woman was too beautiful. The man would never fully possess her, but he couldn’t help loving her, wanting her. He couldn’t resist her, and she knew it. She luxuriated in both the pleasure and pain she would bring him. Nicolas put his hands on her, one low on her stomach, the other sliding around her rib cage, breathtakingly close to her perfect round breast. Her eyes fluttered closed.

I licked my lips.

He lowered his cheek to her temple without looking away from me. I could practically feel his breath on my skin.

“What the hell,” Lucy muttered. She was looking back and forth from Nicolas to me. “Maybe you did have a moment.”

I couldn’t speak I was so hypnotized by their chemistry. Valentina spun away from him but he went after her, and finally they faced each other, swaying so close I thought they would kiss. I
wanted
them to kiss. Tension built as the final strains of the introduction swelled, mirrored by the tension between the couple. Her eyes gleamed with mischief, and he regarded her with eyes full of fury and fire.
I shouldn’t want you but I do.

Powerless to resist, he slid an arm behind her back and took her hand, her lips lifted slightly at her victory, one foot sweeping an arc on the floor behind her.

But as the tango began pulsing from the speakers and Nicolas moved her backward with long strides, it was clear who was dominant between them, at least while they danced. He held her close to his body, so close I was amazed their feet did not get tangled up in the intricate footwork. But they were flawless—every sweep of the leg, every turn, every trick. The crowd gasped when he flung her easily across his shoulders and she snaked down his body to her feet again, like vines wrapping around a column. Applause broke out twice when he lifted her in the air, her legs splitting like scissors.

But my favorite moments were the ones when their heels would flick between each other’s legs, so high and so fast I was amazed at their precision and shared sense of rhythm, not to mention the sexual pulse between them. Every time his knee snuck through that high slit in her dress, I felt a rush of blood at my center. Every time her black fishnet-stockinged foot slid along his calf or kicked between his thighs, my hoo-ha fluttered.

My stomach muscles hurt I was clenching them so tight.

At one point she hooked her knee around his hip, the other leg extended behind her. He paused before moving her backward, her mile-long leg fully stretched, her other thigh locked tight around his body. He stared her down as he moved, as if he was saying,
You see? You may be beautiful and desirable, but here and now, I control you.

And she liked it. She teased him because she wanted to be dominated this way.

My underwear was wet. I wanted to be dominated that way.

The routine finished with her back arched low over his forearm, eyes closed, hands thrown back beyond her head as if in ecstasy. I’d be in ecstasy too if he leaned over me that way, his cheek to my breasts. Holding my coffee cup in the crook of my arm, I applauded politely with the rest of the crowd, but my body was on fire. It was incredible how turned on I was by their performance, even though Nicolas had not looked at me again once they began. He’d been wholly consumed with his partner, and I couldn’t blame him. I’d never thought about a woman sexually before, but I had to admit that watching Valentina was almost as arousing as watching Nicolas, as if my hormones reacted not to the idea of
man
or
woman
but simply to the sight of two ungodly attractive bodies moving together with such a powerful erotic charge between them.

“Fuck,” Lucy swore softly. “Can you imagine?”

“I’m imagining it right now, actually. And it’s very vivid.”

She laughed. “Yeah, you guys had total stare sex at the beginning there. Mmm, those blue eyes. Maybe you should bump into him again.”

“If I thought it would help, I would. But I couldn’t even form a sentence around him.”

“I don’t get that. Just be your normal self.”

“I can’t, Lu. I’ve tried. Plus those types don’t go for me.”

“Bullshit.” Lucy stuck out her chin. “You’re just too scared to go for them.”

I sighed, looking at the gorgeous couple again. “Maybe. But I’m pretty sure that guy is off limits.” Valentina giggled when Nicolas whispered in her ear once more, slapping him lightly on the arm. Then she looked over her shoulder at me again, those plush red lips hooking up on one side, but in a flirty way, almost inviting.

“I don’t know, Caroline. I’m getting the impression she might share him with you.”

My jaw dropped. “Stop it.”

“What, they both keep looking over here. Maybe they’re not a couple. Maybe they’re just dance partners and he’s telling her how bad he wants to tap that babe over there by the lights.”

“I bet that sounds better in Spanish.”

She smiled. “Probably. I’m gonna go clean up my station a little. You hang out here and ask him for a private lesson.”

“God, I’d trip over my own feet.”

“Why? You were a dancer, weren’t you?”

“I studied ballet for ten years. Pink tights, not black fishnets.” I looked at Nicolas again. They were preparing to run the routine once more, this time at a different angle. He was listening to the director intently, but he glanced up and caught me staring. He didn’t smile, but he didn’t look away, either. He just held my eyes until I was dizzy with desire and short of breath, imagining all the things I’d let him do to me. My thighs were squeezed together so tight I thought I might cut off my circulation, and finally I had to drop my eyes.

Jesus.
I found a trash bin and tossing my coffee cup in it.
My panties are soaked. I need to lay off the smut.