The thing was, she was pretty sure she could have sex with him and it wouldn’t be slutty. At least, she’d talked herself that far. She knew him well enough to understand he liked her. He saw her as a person, respected her, even if he was a terrible flirt.
She’d run the benefit cost analysis on sleeping with Nash, and so far, fucking him was outweighing masturbating herself into frustrated blindness.
But she’d be ten other kinds of frustrated if she didn’t finish the paper in front of her! She was graduating in one more semester and did not have the luxury of fantasizing about getting on her knees and unzipping his pants.
She knew he’d have a nice cock; she’d seen it pressed against the front of his pants after she danced often enough over the past three months. When she licked around the crown, would he groan or hiss? What would his skin taste of? She could imagine the weight of his balls in her palm as she slowly wrapped her lips around his cock and slid him as far back as she could. She’d hum in satisfaction and his hands would tighten on her shoulders. Or would he grab her hair? A thrill at the thought slithered through her.
Her head fell back and whacked the wood of the chair, knocking sense back into her. Okay, paper first! Come on, Dahlia, focus and then fantasize.
* * *
The next afternoon she and Roseanne worked on a new routine at the club during daylight hours when it was closed. It was a happy surprise to see Nash in William’s office talking with his brother, when she and Roseanne were on their way out.
“Hey.” He smiled warmly. “Fancy seeing you here.”
“We were working on some new stuff. What are you doing here?” God, he made her feel like a giddy teenager. She only barely resisted the urge to twirl her hair around a finger.
“I just got back into town and came by to say hello to William, who is of course always working. I thought I was bad.” William barely looked up from his work and Roseanne found something fascinating to go look at across the room.
Man-oh-man, did she wonder just how bad he was.
“How was New York?”
“You remembered.” His smile widened. “It was good. I had dinner with Bob De Niro at his place in Tribeca.”
“Of course I remembered. You just told me a week ago.”
“Can you come to dinner at my place?”
Dahlia started at the sudden nature of his request. He was usually so much smoother when he asked her out. That crack in his suave veneer was utterly charming. She decided to take that as a sign.
“I don’t think so.” She watched his face fall and felt bad for teasing him. Quickly, she added, “How about you come to my place? I’ll make you dinner.”
The change in his expression made the girly giddiness she always felt around him even worse. He went from crestfallen to surprised, and once he realized she’d said yes, he put the smooth face back on. Lord help her, she thought it was cute.
“I can’t believe you finally accepted. Three months, Dahlia. I’ve asked you out seven times and you’ve said no every time.”
“Not that you’re keeping track or anything.”
He laughed. “Nah. Just of the total amount of scars on my ego.”
“I’m sure your ego will survive.” Even as hers was given a boost by the way this man reacted to her. How could she resist?
* * *
Nash stifled the urge to pump his fist in the air victoriously. He’d vowed to himself not to ask her out again for at least another month but impulse had taken over. She’d looked so beautiful, her face clean of makeup, simply fresh and natural in jeans and a plain blue T-shirt. He hadn’t been able to help it.
He wanted to pin her down before she changed her mind or backed out. “Okay, so when can we do this? I’m going to be in town for the next four days.”
“I’m off Friday night.”
He seized opportunity with both hands. “You got it. Friday night at eight. I’ll bring the wine.”
Reaching into her bag, she pulled out a pad and wrote out the directions to her house. “Are you allergic to anything? Have a food you hate?”
As if. He’d finally gotten her to agree to a date—even if she made something utterly inedible he’d gulp it down and ask for seconds just to spend time with her. “No green peppers. Everything else I’m good with.”
“Okay, I’ll see you the day after tomorrow then.” She walked off with Roseanne and waved as they exited through the back doors.
* * *
He came to watch her set on Thursday. Just as she turned to walk offstage, she caught a glimpse of him. She liked him there, liked the feel of his gaze on her. Made her feel even sexier.
When she emerged from the back she caught sight of him waiting for her. She couldn’t leave right away, not once he smiled at her.
“I can’t stay very long. I have four classes tomorrow.” She had to stand close to be heard over the music. Not that she minded the excuse.
He motioned to the doors leading to the area just outside the club and she followed.
“That’s better,” he said once they’d gotten out of the smoky, loud space.
“I don’t even notice it anymore.” She shrugged, laughing.
“I didn’t expect to see you tonight.” He didn’t often come on Thursdays.
“I know. I have a meeting at nine in the morning, but I thought of you here and I wanted to be here, too.”
He looked so handsome, leaning casually against the wall. His hair sat in tousled disarray around his shoulders, but it looked artful and sexy instead of messy. She suddenly felt distinctly frumpy in her sweatshirt and jeans and fought the urge to smooth down her hair.
“You say the best stuff. I don’t know how to react when you say things like that.”
Reaching out, he tucked a stray curl behind her ear and then drew a fingertip lightly down the line of her jaw. “What can I say? You inspire me. I suppose I’d be pushing it if I tried to get you to grab a drink with me in the piano bar? Just one?”
His perfect teeth flashed with that boyish grin and she shivered. Dahlia knew she couldn’t spend just twenty minutes with him. She lost all sense of time when he was near.
“I’d like to, I really would, but it’s already midnight and I have to be up early. You’re still coming to dinner, right?”
“I wouldn’t miss it. Should I bring dessert?”
“I’m making lasagna, salad, flash-fried spinach with red pepper and garlic bread. Hmm, ice cream maybe?”
“Oh, man. You’re making all that?”
“Is that a problem?” He placed a finger over her lips.
“I’m impressed, not appalled. I can’t tell you the last time someone made me dinner like this.”
Without meaning to, she opened her lips and took his finger inside. Sucking gently, she grazed his fingertip with her bottom teeth before releasing him.
He stood still for long moments, pupils wide, breath quick. “Um. Okay then. Shit. I’d walk you to your car, but I seem to be a bit indisposed.”
She looked down and saw the bulge at the front of his pants. “Oops. Well, it’s okay, I don’t need you to walk me. I’m just right out the door anyway.”
He grabbed her as she walked away and hauled her back to him. “Of course I’ll walk you. It’s not like I’ve made it a big secret that I’m attracted to you. Besides, you’re the one who sucked my finger and made me this way to begin with.”
Liking the way he felt there against her, she didn’t pull away and they walked out to her car, his arm around her waist.
He stopped her as she moved to get into the car, his body caging her against her door. The heat rolled off him in waves, making her slightly dizzy.
“Good night, Dahlia. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
His lips brushed over hers gently once, twice, and he started to pull away only to return, crushing his mouth over hers. She could do little more than reach up and hold on as he plundered her mouth with his own. Lips, teeth and tongue worked in concert to completely devastate her defenses against him. If there’d been any at all to begin with.