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Authors: Farrah Rochon

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BOOK: Hot Christmas Nights
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Composed again, she arranged the wine bottle and five glasses on a tray and backed through the door into the dining room. The first face she saw was Lily’s.

“Wendy, your mother was just telling me about the job you have lined up in Chicago this spring. You must be so excited.”

Wendy opened her mouth to clarify that the job in question—the one she hadn’t yet decided on—was in Las Vegas, not Chicago. But Selena spoke up before she could.

“Lily has some excellent suggestions for the kinds of clothes you’ll need to pack,” her mother said. “Oh, and she can tell you about all the sights to see, too.”

She could see Frazier in her peripheral vision, staring at her, but she wasn’t about to look at him. “I’ve been to Chicago before, Mom, remember? You have, too.”

“I know, sweetie, but it’s always nice to get a fresh perspective right before a trip.”

“You’re going to Chicago, too?” Wendy’s father asked, looking confused. He reached up and scratched his bald head as if that might help him keep the facts straight. “I thought the job was in Las Vegas. When did it change to Chicago?”

“It didn’t, Daddy. The job is in Las Vegas.”

“Well, then, what does Chicago have to do with it and when are we going to eat? I’m starving.”

“Nothing, Daddy.” She dropped a hand on his shoulder and squeezed lovingly. “Chicago has nothing to do with Las Vegas. Why don’t I start bringing out the food?”

“How about pouring us each a glass of wine before you do, Wendy?” Selena suggested, sending Wendy a meaningful look over everyone’s heads. Swallowing a sigh, Wendy poured a glass and passed it to her father, since he was sitting closest to her. “While you’re doing that, you can tell Lily all about the job.”

“There’s really nothing to tell,” Wendy hedged as she passed a glass of wine down to Lily and gestured for her to pass it over to her mother. “There’s a youth dance corps in Las Vegas that’s recently gained a lot of national attention. They need a choreographer to work with a group of new recruits this spring and they’ve asked me to take the position.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful,” Lily said, beaming. She looked genuinely happy for Wendy. “Do you think you’ll like living in Las Vegas?”

“I wouldn’t necessarily have to relocate to Las Vegas, not permanently, anyway. At the most, I’d be there for a year, maybe less. I don’t have all the details yet, because I haven’t given them a firm response. Right now the offer is still on the table and I’m still thinking about it, but I do appreciate your support, Mrs. Abernathy.”

She wasn’t exactly lying to her parents and Mrs. Abernathy, but she was being evasive. For some reason, it seemed like the thing to do just then. There was enough tension between her and Frazier as it was and talking about the possibility of her moving to another state certainly wouldn’t help matters any. She wished her mother would, for once, pay attention to the nonverbal cues that she was sending her and drop the subject.

Of course there was something to tell. How could there not be? The Greeley Dance Company was world-renowned. With branches in London, New York and, most recently, Las Vegas, they recruited dance students from all over the world and toured extensively. They were as comfortable performing on Broadway as they were in quaint community theaters, and they managed to do both superbly.

Wendy was already a freshman in high school when Greeley was first established, so she hadn’t grown up with dreams of dancing with the company. But before the accident, they had definitely been on her short list of coveted placements.

The youth program that Greeley wanted her to work with was new, only about two years old, but it was already making important waves in the dance community because of its work with underprivileged youth. Thanks to Greeley, talented young dancers who might not have otherwise been given the opportunity to train professionally were now training under master dancers and performing for audiences all over the country. If she took the position, she’d be working directly with a group of high school students from Las Vegas, training and preparing them for a summer tour that would begin in Las Vegas and take them all the way to New Zealand before it was over.

And if she took the position, she’d need to be in Las Vegas and ready to get to work in less than three weeks’ time.

Wendy poured one last glass of wine and forced herself to meet Frazier’s eyes as she passed it to him. If he noticed that her hand was trembling, he didn’t say anything. “I forgot the apple cider, Mrs. Abernathy. I’ll bring it out to you and then I’ll start bringing out the food. Can you wait a couple more minutes, Daddy?”

He slanted a dubious look in her direction. “Do I have a choice?”

“I’m afraid not, but I promise I’ll be quick. Does anyone need anything, other than food, before I—”

Frazier’s calm, accusing voice cut her off. “You told me you turned down the job.”

She met his gaze and looked away quickly. “No, I didn’t. Not yet. I’ll, uh, be right back.”

* * *

Frazier was seething.

He couldn’t remember the last time he felt so invisible. All through dinner, Wendy had avoided eye contact with him and only responded to his attempts to engage her in socially polite conversation with one-word responses. She’d only glanced at him a handful of times in two hours and now that dinner was over and they were, once again, alone together in the kitchen, she wouldn’t even give him that.

Their parents were two rooms away, having after-dinner coffee and dessert by the fireplace. To get away from him, she volunteered to put away the leftovers and start on the dishes. And because he’d been on a slow simmer all evening, he had offered to help. Now she was giving him the invisible-silent treatment, hoping he’d go away, and full of attitude because he wouldn’t.

Like he gave a shit.

Frazier had always known that he was one of the “good guys.” Growing up, he’d always held doors for women, stood when a woman entered a room, and looked away when another man would’ve ogled. It wasn’t hard to respect women and as he’d grown older, he discovered that the extra perks afforded to “good guys” were well worth the wait.

He’d been with more than his share of women, but a good guy never kissed and told, and he’d never tried to be anything other than just that.

When he was a kid, he hadn’t minded being the butt of nerd jokes...up to a certain point. When he was a teenager, the nerd jokes dried up around the time that he suddenly and very mysteriously became irresistible to girls. And, as a man, he was happy to be the nerd who earned a six-figure salary and was very close to never having to work another day in his life if he didn’t want to...and he was still mysteriously irresistible to women.

He almost laughed out loud at the thought. There was no damn mystery to what he did, to who he was. He respected women...people. Period. And when you gave respect, it was only natural that you demanded it in return.

Up to a certain point, he’d let the jokes roll off his shoulders, mainly because they were good-natured and he did have a sense of humor, but he had never allowed himself to be willfully and intentionally disrespected. Experiencing it now was strange and, as he watched Wendy load up the refrigerator with plastic storage containers filled with leftovers, he decided that it was as unacceptable now as it was back then.

Wendy knew that better than anyone.

Thirty minutes of strained silence had passed when he glanced at his watch and straightened from leaning in the kitchen doorway. Earlier, he’d offered to help her with KP duty and been summarily dismissed, so he wasn’t about to offer again.

Instead, he closed the distance between them in a couple of steps and leaned a hip against the countertop next to where she stood at the sink. It was getting late and his mother would be ready to leave in a little while, so if he was going to tell her to go to hell, now was probably a good time.

“I think you mistake my kindness for weakness,” he said thoughtfully.

Her hands went still in the sudsy water. “Frazier, please.”

“Oh, no, you’re not the only one who gets to speak.” He studied her profile—her smooth dark skin, the delicate line of her neck—and told himself not to reach out and touch her. “Earlier, you accused me of smothering you—”

“That’s not what I said.”

“That’s what you meant, though. You said you didn’t realize that we’d be together all the time, as if I’m the sole reason we spend so much time together. As if I’m smothering you. Don’t insult my intelligence by trying to backpedal now, all right?”

“Frazier, if you came in here to start a fight with me, I am so not in the mood right now.” She dropped a soapy plate into the double sink harder than necessary, then started scrubbing another one. “Can we please do this later?”

“I don’t think so, Wendy, because I don’t think there will be a later.”

Now she did look at him. It was the first time in half an hour. “What?”

He tipped his head to one side, stared into her gorgeous brown eyes and answered her question with a question of his own. “This new dynamic between us isn’t working, is it?”

That rattled her. He could see it in the way her shoulders stiffened and hear it in the way her breath caught in her throat. When she finally released it, it was long and shaky. “Are you breaking up with me? Is that what this is?”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you? It would make your decision so much easier, wouldn’t it?”

“Frazier, I—I don’t know what you want from me. I mean, right now, I don’t even know what
I
want from me.”

“Is that why you lied to me about the job in Vegas?”

“I didn’t exactly lie—”

His sigh was long-suffering. “Wendy...”

“Well, I didn’t. But if I had told you that I was keeping my options open, you would’ve just tried to talk me out of going because of this new thing we’re doing and I probably would’ve listened.”

“That’s bullshit and you know it. I have never tried to talk you out of doing anything you wanted to do. Ever. Come up with another lie, because that one doesn’t apply here.”

Her shoulders sagged in frustration as she walked over to the breakfast nook across the room and pulled a chair away from the cherrywood table there. She dropped into it heavily and looked up at him wearily. “Frazier, we’ve been seeing each other for what, a month now? Do you realize that you bring up the subject of us getting married at least twice a week? You know how many kids you want and what schools you want them to go to. You probably have their names picked out, too. You have your future all mapped out and, suddenly, because we’re exploring what it feels like to be together, you’ve got
my
future all mapped out, too. And I have a feeling that it doesn’t include me moving across the country.”

“So my crime is wanting to marry you?” He tried to keep from laughing out loud, but he couldn’t help himself. A deep, sarcastic chuckle shot out of his mouth before he could stop it. “My crime is wanting to make a life with you and—”

“I never said I wanted marriage,” Wendy blurted out.

In the silence that followed her declaration, he could see that her words had caught her by surprise. If so, then one out of the two of them wasn’t bad. For his part, she had just confirmed what he’d already suspected. “You’re right. You never said that...” He trailed off, considering her. “As a matter of fact, you never said much of anything, except, of course, when you wanted sex. Perhaps I should’ve been paying more attention to what you
weren’t
saying and, if so, that was my mistake.”

“Frazier...” His name was a soft plea on her lips. She was hurt and trying not to show it.

“I won’t waste my time being with someone who just wants a good fuck, Wendy.” For a moment, he let his own hurt show. Then he checked it and gave her a lopsided smile instead. “Even if she is my best friend.”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying you’re off the hook. I think I liked you much better when we were friends.”

She stared at him for the longest time. Then she was up and crossing the kitchen in his direction. Anticipating her, he slipped his hands from his pants pockets and used them to steady her when she pressed up against him, slid her hands up his chest and then palmed his face. “That’s not what I want.”

“What
do
you want, Wendy?”

Silence. Then a whisper. “Frazier...I just... I need some time to figure things out.”

“So take it,” he told her, though it cost him dearly. “Take all the time you need.”

“So we’re breaking up because I don’t want to marry you right now?”

“No, Wendy. We’re breaking up because I want more from you than just sex.”

“That’s not fair.”

He rested his forehead against hers and sucked the breath from her mouth into his. “Fair to whom?”

“Frazier.” There it was again. His name. This time, though, it was his mother who said it.

Lily’s caramel brown cheeks were bright red when he turned to look at her. She and Wendy’s parents were crowded in the kitchen doorway and it was a toss-up as to which one of them was more scandalized. “I-It’s getting late and the temperature outside has dropped, so there’s no telling what the roads might be like. We should probably go.”

“I was just thinking the same thing,” Frazier said as he stepped back from Wendy and clasped her hands in his. They stared at each other for a beat and then he brought one of her hands to his mouth and pressed a kiss into her palm. She looked just as scandalized as their parents, so he said, “I guess our secret is out.”

Chapter 5

W
endy taught ballet classes every week, but teaching and dancing, though intricately intertwined, were two different animals. While teaching required her to dissect the mechanics of the dance, dancing allowed her to connect with them on a physical, almost spiritual plane. Dancing required her to move within the music and movement was what she needed right now. When all else failed, it was what kept her mind clear and focused...and blank.
En pointe,
nothing else mattered, nothing except the combination of muscle and skill, of technique. Balance was everything. There was no room left for thought or feeling.

She chose the first movement of Mozart’s
Eine Kleine Nachtmusik
to put her through her warm-up paces. Then, when she was damp with perspiration and her muscles were so loose that they flowed like liquid, she slipped another CD into the boom box. The music on it—five arrangements in all—were twisted fusions of R&B/hip-hop and classical music that couldn’t be found in any retail store. She’d had the tracks created especially for her own use and the choreography that she had paired with each track was part of the reason the Greeley Dance Company wanted her to train its students. What better way to engage inner-city youth in the art of ballet than to show them how it could be used to make hip-hop come alive? And who better to show their students exactly how to merge the two than Wendy?

She certainly wasn’t the first dancer to come up with the concept of a hybrid dance genre, but she was definitely one of the best choreographers to create movement within it, even with a less-than-perfect leg.

En pointe
she waited for the first track to begin and then, when it did, she let it lead her into oblivion. There, she didn’t think about the fact that she hadn’t seen or spoken to Frazier in almost two weeks, because every time she did, the shock of missing him punched her in the gut harder than any fist ever could. It made her want to curl up into a ball and do something that she hadn’t allowed herself to do in earnest since the day she learned she would never dance on Broadway—cry.

More than anything, she missed his friendship. He was such a huge part of her life that his absence left a giant, yawning void that she didn’t know what to do with. Dancing helped, but after the music stopped, he reclaimed his place in her thoughts, took control of her ability to focus and then the cycle began all over again.

It stopped just then, a five-second break between songs, and the studio was completely silent. The soundproof walls blocked sound from outside and tended to amplify sounds from within. That’s why she heard it as clearly as she did—a soft breath expelled into the room. Not close, but close enough. To Wendy, it seemed as if she could feel the heat of that breath on her damp skin.

She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, wondering if she might be hallucinating and praying that she wasn’t. Then she turned toward the doorway, the direction from which the sound had come, and saw him standing there. A hot gush of honey soaked her panties when their eyes met and he started walking in her direction.

Watching him come toward her, she slowly sank down into a seat and removed her pointe shoes.

* * *

Frazier had been standing there for at least ten minutes, watching Wendy dance as if her life depended on it and wondering if it really did.

Arousal had whispered across his skin every time a leg sliced through the air or an arm swept across an air current. The glow of perspiration on her skin was an aphrodisiac. The music was an interesting mix of beats, bass and orchestra, and her body swayed, twirled and vibrated to it in perfect sync. She looked like she was in a utopian bubble, one that he couldn’t help wanting to infiltrate.

The past two weeks had been hell for him. Not seeing her, not speaking to her every day left gaping holes in his daily routine that he didn’t have a clue how to fill. He’d been busy enough during business hours—hiring and training a receptionist, and acclimating himself to the presence of both another broker and a college intern in the office—that putting her out of his mind had been partially doable. But only partially, because nighttime inevitably arrived and the images in his mind of her and of them together electrified him.

When she saw him and he started walking toward her, his plan was only to talk to her, to see for himself that she was okay.

From his mother, who’d heard it straight from Wendy’s mother, he knew that she was packed and ready to leave for Nevada in a few days. Her assistants were dividing up her classes and continuing with their own classes in her absence, with Wendy’s mother volunteering to supervise the administrative duties. As far as the studio was concerned, she’d covered all her bases. But how long she’d be gone was anybody’s guess and, at this point, whether or not she was planning to return was, too.

His plan was to say goodbye to her and somehow leave things between them on a positive note. Too many years of close friendship depended on it. But then, she was back on her feet, in his face and looking up at him like the whole world was about to end and he was the only person who could stop it. And he forgot about everything except her wet, open mouth.

She took his tongue like a trouper, reaching up to wrap a hand around the back of his neck to bring him close and keep him there, and parting her lips as wide as they would allow. Her body came up against his and his hands went straight to her butt and held on. They squeezed and kneaded, while his tongue plundered her mouth hungrily. Each stroke of his tongue against hers drew a soft, sexy whimper from her and each whimper made him harder and harder.

Music was blasting in the background, echoing off the walls around them, and he heard it clearly for a minute or two. Then it faded to black and all he heard was the sound of mounting anticipation. Heavy breathing and sighs and moans lit the air. Hands explored, squeezed and gripped.

In one quick motion, he tugged her leotard straps down the length of her arms until her breasts sprang free and then he promptly tongued one of her puckered nipples deep into his mouth. He sucked and lapped at her nipples hungrily, one at a time, over and over, until she was palming the back of his head with one hand and cupping her breasts and feeding him with the other.

When tasting her flesh was no longer enough, he let her walk him backward to the nearest wall and press his back against it while she went to work on his belt. His shaft was between them seconds later, a bead of pre-cum glistening on its tip.

He wanted to watch her watch his body’s reaction to her, wanted to see every expression that crossed her gorgeous face, but she had other ideas.

Before he could prepare himself, Wendy slid down to her knees before him and wrapped her soft lips around his flesh. She sucked on the head of his cock silkily, causing his breath to back up in his throat on contact. His eyes went to half-mast and a soft hiss whistled through his clenched teeth. Now it was his turn to palm the back of her head, to play in her hair until the messy bun at the top of her head was in wild disarray.

The sight of her lips sliding back and forth on him, her tongue drawing erotic designs on his flesh, made his blood pump through his veins and sharp jolts of pleasure shoot down his spine. He fought the urge to come, even though his hips were rocking back and forth, making love to Wendy’s mouth, and pushing him closer and closer to the edge.

The music stopped and its absence was jarring, leaving only his hoarse groans and her breathless sighs to fill the room. His voice sounded strange even to his own ears, like a drowning man fighting for air but losing the battle willingly. He felt himself swelling dangerously and withdrew from her mouth before the rush of sensation pooling in his gut got the best of him. He needed to be inside of her now.

* * *

“Ah...aahhh...yes, yes, yes...”

The glass against her back was chilly but Wendy was sizzling with heat. Unintelligible sounds were all she was capable of making, all she could wrap her mind around. Her tone was guttural, her knuckles were damn near white from gripping the barre behind her so tightly, and her toes were deliciously curled in on themselves. She had never felt so delicate, so weightless in her entire life...or so damn turned on.

Frazier’s large, powerful hands held her butt suspended in midair, at the perfect angle for his long, forceful strokes. She bounced up and down on his thick length, coating him with her honey over and over again as her walls pulsed around him. The intense look on his face as he stared at her breasts only added to the jolts of electricity shooting up and down her spine. In spite of the condom between their flesh, it was as if she could feel every engorged vein in his penis. Fingers of ecstasy traveled up and down her legs, until they were trembling and her hips were spasming in his hands.

The orgasm, when it finally took mercy on her and rolled over her from head to toe, was so fierce that she lost her grip on the barre. She might’ve slid down to the floor and taken him with her if he hadn’t shifted his stance at exactly the right moment.

When it was over and they were both preoccupied with putting themselves back together again, she looked up from straightening her leotard and caught him staring at her. She blushed under the intensity of his gaze. “What?”

“Nothing,” Frazier said, adjusting the knot in his tie as he closed the distance between them. When they were close enough to kiss, he dipped his head and did just that, dropping a juicy gift on her upturned lips. “I love you,” he said softly.

The tears in her eyes sneaked up on Wendy before she could hold them back. “I love you, too.”

He took her hand, threaded their fingers together and brought it to his mouth for a kiss. “Good luck in Las Vegas, Wendy.”

She stood there staring at the empty doorway for a long time after he was gone, wondering why, if she’d been expecting him to ask her to stay and she’d been prepared to tell him no, she was so disappointed because he hadn’t.

Six Weeks Later

This year, Christmas and New Year’s Day were miserable affairs for Wendy. She loved that her parents had flown to Las Vegas to be with her for the holidays, but she hadn’t been able to spend as much time with them as she would’ve liked. With auditions just wrapping up, upcoming performances to choreograph new routines for and practice schedules to create, she barely had time to get a full night’s sleep, let alone take extra time off for leisure.

Her schedule was exceedingly demanding, much more so than she’d been expecting, but the work was as satisfying as she’d hoped it would be and that helped make her fatigue worth it. As an added bonus, the warmer weather seemed to be agreeing with her leg, too, because she hadn’t had a flare-up in over three weeks, which was always a good thing.

Just about the only issue she had with being in Las Vegas, aside from the tiny apartment that Greeley had rented for her stay, was that Frazier hadn’t yet come for a visit.

Since their last interlude at the studio, they spoke over the phone at least twice a week, but their conversations were noticeably strained when they never used to be and way shorter than they’d ever been. She had invited him to visit at least twice now and both times he’d only given her vague maybes in response.

Her feelings were bruised and her confidence in whatever the future held for the two of them was shaken, but she refused to regret crossing the line into intimacy with him.

She hadn’t been a virgin since college, but when Frazier was inside of her, he made her feel like everything she experienced was new and unique. Every touch set her skin on fire and her pulse racing. Every kiss was so deep that she thought she might drown in it, that she wanted to drown in it. His lovemaking was the best she’d ever experienced and she’d been in love with him for so long that there was no way in hell what they’d done was wrong. It couldn’t be. She wouldn’t let it be.

So, okay, she thought, their friendship had taken a few hits along the way. She’d fix it and them, when she got back home.

“Georgia,” Wendy said, snapping out of her reverie quickly. “You’re lagging on the second swing. I need you to pick it up a bit.” She glanced at the circle of students spread out around her in the dance studio, randomly picked a male student and motioned for him to join her in the center of the circle. “Like this. Watch my legwork.” The male student got in position and so did she. “Five, six, seven, eight...”

It was all the twirling, she thought as they finished the short combination and she spun to a complete stop. That and the fact that she’d only eaten half a cup of yogurt for breakfast this morning and had worked through lunch. Rooms tended to spin when you didn’t eat properly...or couldn’t remember the last time you’d eaten at all, for that matter. She stood still with her eyes closed until the feeling of vertigo passed.

“Miss Wendy, are you okay?” a female student asked.

She opened her eyes on a teenage girl’s concerned face and smiled. “Yes, I’m fine, thank you. I haven’t had lunch yet and I’m starting to run on fumes, that’s all.” She cleared her throat and clapped her hands, looking around the room. “Okay, where were we?”

She didn’t get around to eating lunch until it was at least an hour past dinnertime and by then, she was completely wiped out.

Later, instead of staying late at the dance school to work on her choreography, as she usually did, as soon as all of her students were gone, she left anything having to do with work at the school and went home, too.

For the time being, Wendy’s home base was a one-bedroom garden apartment in a quiet, nicely landscaped complex that was within walking distance of the school.

Usually, she found the short walk to and from work refreshing, but today she would’ve given anything for a bike or, better yet, a car. It was only a little after eight o’clock in the evening, but she was dying to crawl into bed and stay there until morning. The idea of a hot shower just before falling asleep was so enticing that it almost brought tears to her eyes. As tired as she was, she practically ran the last half block to her apartment complex.

* * *

BOOK: Hot Christmas Nights
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