One Last Dance (5 page)

Sophie’s fingers dug into the
muscle above her left knee. She sniffled. “It’s my knee.”

“I gathered that. What’s wrong
with it?”

She sighed, shoulders slumping.
There was no way out of explaining at least some of it. She couldn’t get up and
leave, after all. Her damn knee wouldn’t let her. “Six years ago I was in
Thailand for a competition. I had an accident.” She swiped angrily at the tears
on her cheeks. “It was a stupid slip and fall and I landed on a sharp steel
plate. It should have been nothing. But it ended up costing me my career, and
it still isn’t fully healed.” She finally raised her solemn gaze to his. “It’s
why I don’t dance anymore.”

“Until I asked you.” It wasn’t a
question, but Sophie nodded anyway. Henry wiped some of the tears from her
cheek. “And it hurts badly right now?”

She bit her lip, but she could
hardly deny it. She’d screamed when she tried to get up.  She sighed.
“Yes, it hurts badly.” It killed her to admit it to him, but when he asked her
a direct question, she didn’t have it in her to lie.

“Stay right here.” He was gone
before she could reply. She heard the sound of running water, drawers opening
and closing, the clink of glass, and then silence. She frowned, trying to
breath through the pain of her knotting muscles, massaging her knee.

She jerked up as the glass door
slid open and Henry once more appeared from the terrace, arms laden with
various objects. He thrust a glass of wine into her hand. “Here, drink this. It
will help you relax.”

“I should probably—”

“Drink the wine.”

She blinked in surprise at his
commanding tone and sipped the wine. He set a bottle of aspirin beside her on
the end table, near her water bottle. Next to that he set a jar of Tiger Balm.
Sophie recognized the distinctive red and gold container. There was one in
nearly every room of her apartment.

Henry surprised her again,
getting to his knees in front of her. The last item he held was a damp
washcloth. He lifted her chin with his left hand, wiping her cheeks with the
soft, cool cloth. Sophie sighed at the gentle gesture, and Henry smiled.

“There. Now, let’s have a look at
this knee.”

His words sent hot shards of
panic into her heart and she clutched her knee with her left hand. “That’s not
necessary. Once I have the wine and the aspirin I’ll be fine. Thank you.”

“Sophie,” he said, his deep voice
brooking no argument. “Let me see your knee.”

Sophie took a deep breath and
moved her hand. She gulped wine, breathing heavily as he inspected the
troublesome joint carefully.

Henry smiled. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” she breathed,
answering automatically as she stared into the lambent ebony of his eyes. Sophie
felt his hand lifting the hem of her pants leg, but didn’t care. Or rather, she
cared, but she didn’t
mind
. His knuckles lightly brushed her calf as he
raised the loose material up. He pushed it gently over her knee, fingers
grazing her inner thigh as he tucked it out of the way. But his eyes never left
hers.

He smoothed the fabric, stroking
the curve of her thigh, before lowering his gaze. Sophie tensed, sucking in a
sharp breath and squeezing her own eyes closed, anticipating the shuttering of
that heated gaze, the blank plasticity of his face as he struggled to contain
his disgust. Just like Christian had before he left.

She jumped, whimpering, as she
felt him trace his fingertip along the side of her kneecap. The scar there
wasn’t nearly as terrible as it had been, thick and twisted, before the
cosmetic surgery. But it was still white and raised. And the flesh of her
thigh, just above the knee, was pale and pitted where the infection had eaten
away at her. Her leg looked as if a large beast had taken a bite of it. Which
was, in fact, how it had felt at the time.

Sophie knew the knotted muscles
would be standing out beneath her skin, writhing like serpents. But Henry’s
touch was warm and gentle. He cupped the back of her knee, fingers digging
cautiously into the locked tendon there. His thumbs gently massaged the
twitching muscles above her kneecap, easing the strain. Sophie groaned.

“That’s better, isn’t it?” Henry
murmured. He kept rubbing, firmly but not too hard, until the cramp let up.
Sophie let out a long sigh of relief, the tension easing from her shoulders as
the pain lessened. Henry’s hands kept working, warm and dry against her skin.

“Henry—”

“Drink your wine, Sophie.”

She did as he said, draining the
last of the wine. He smiled at her. The look tugged in her belly, sexy and
dark.

“Good. Now, take some of those
aspirin.” He was still rubbing. The warmth that had begun at his firm touch was
spreading up her thigh, into her belly. She set the wine glass down and twisted
off the cap of the aspirin bottle, shaking two of the small white pills into
her palm. She tossed them back, sipping from her water bottle to wash them
down.

Sophie moved to draw her leg out
of his grasp. “For a businessman, you’re pretty good at first aid.”

His hands remained firm on her
knee, not letting her up. “I have many talents. Don’t move. I still have to put
the salve on.”

“I’ll do that when I get home. So
it doesn’t get on my clothes.” The second the words were out of her mouth, she
saw the flare of heat in his eyes and knew he was picturing her naked. She was
too, only adding him to the scene. They both inhaled sharply, staring at each
other for a long, quiet moment.

Sophie was intensely aware of his
hands on her bare skin, inches from the apex of her thighs. Kneeling as he was,
he was almost eye level with her. She didn’t know if he leaned in, or she did,
or they both moved at the same time, but his mouth was only a fraction of an
inch from hers. She felt his breath against her lips.

“Sophie,” he murmured.

She licked her lips nervously.
“Henry—”

But whatever she had been going
to say evaporated as his mouth crashed down on hers.

His lips were flame and hers were
tinder. She ignited at his touch. Sophie opened beneath his hungry mouth,
whimpering as his tongue teased hers with sensuous strokes. He tasted of the
wine they’d had earlier, and something else, some dark spice  she couldn’t
name. She gripped his shoulders, fingers tightly curling into the fine cotton
of his shirt.

Henry sucked at her lower lip, a
soft growl in his throat as his strong arms came around her. Just as when they
danced, he drew her close against his chest, angling his mouth back over hers.
His kisses were hot, wet, voracious, as he returned to her lips again and
again, tongues twining erotically.

Sophie ran her hands up the
corded muscles of his neck, sliding her fingers into the thick fall of his dark
hair. The touch of his mouth on her skin was hotter, more erotic than anything
she could have imagined. Her muscles trembled with desire as he dropped little
sucking bites along her throat. His teeth grazed the sensitive flesh just above
her collarbone sending a cascade of sparks down to the taut peaks of her
breasts. She moaned, fingernails scratching against his scalp.

“Henry, please!” She tilted her
head back, giving him better access to her throat. She shouldn’t be doing this.
There was some reason she should be stopping him. But it seemed very distant
and unimportant compared to the throbbing of her heart and the pulsing of her
sex.

She felt his fingers curl around
the edge of her t-shirt, his knuckles brushing the bare skin of her waist. He
lifted his head, bringing his mouth back to hers, running his tongue along the
inner satin of her lower lip and nipping it gently. “Raise your arms.”

In Henry’s rich, throaty voice,
the words were a welcome command. Sophie obeyed, her eyes locked on his hungry
gaze. She trembled as he pulled her shirt up and off, tossing it hastily away,
baring her torso. Only the thin white lace of her bra shielded her aching
breasts from his eyes.

“Take it off.”

Sophie bit her lip and unhooked
her bra, drawing the scrap of lace down her arms and setting it aside.

“
Mio Dio
, Sophie,” Henry
murmured gruffly. His hand rose, cupping one of her small breasts, pinching the
taut nipple between his thumb and forefinger. Sophie whimpered at the spear of
pleasure that spiked into her belly. He pressed his mouth to hers again with a
kiss that left Sophie shaking.

She closed her eyes as Henry bent
his head, crying out in delight as she felt the wet velvet of his tongue flick
against her breast, tracing circles around the hard peak before sucking it into
his mouth and drawing hard. Sophie’s hands came up, once again tangling in his
hair as his teeth grazed her sensitive flesh, closing gently over the taut bud.

“Henry!” Sophie writhed beneath
his kisses.

Her past lovers had always been
gentle, treating her like a delicate porcelain figurine, as if she were
breakable. But not Henry. His touch had an edge of harshness, his words all
sounded like commands. Sophie was more turned on than she’d ever been. Whereas
she’d sometimes had trouble reaching orgasm before, she was about to come just
from the touch of Henry’s mouth.

He drew back from her suddenly,
sitting back on his haunches. He was breathing hard, nostrils flaring. Sophie
trembled beneath his gaze. He held out a hand.

“Stand up.”

Sophie rose. He’d been kneeling
so close, her feet were on either side of his thighs. She looked down, staring
at the sight of Henry’s gorgeous mouth mere inches from her tingling sex,
needing to bite her lip to keep from moaning.

As if sensing the direction of
her thoughts, Henry leaned forward just a fraction of an inch and pressed a
closed mouth kiss against the fabric of her pants, right over her mound. Sophie
sucked in a sharp breath through her nose, eyelids fluttering at the fleeting
touch.

She felt the brush of his
knuckles against her waist as he reached up and curled his fingers beneath the
waistband of her yoga pants. Henry kept his eyes on hers as he peeled the soft,
stretchy material down her hips slowly. Soon she was stepping out of them.

When she was completely naked
except for the thin scrap of her white lace panties and the heels she’d worn to
dance in, Henry once again leaned back to study her. After several beats, he
wrapped his big hands around her ankles, thumbs stroking tantalizing circles
against her skin. Slowly, not breaking their gaze, he slid his palms up her
calves.

He paused there, massaging the
hard muscles gently. Sophie bit her lip hard as his hands continued upward
toward her bad knee. He cupped her there, squeezing them tenderly. His thumb
briefly traced the edge of her scar, but he kept sliding upward.

She shuddered in relief. Henry
was still staring up at her as if he was going to devour her. When the tips of
his thumbs grazed just beneath the edge of her panties, Sophie’s hips jerked
spasmodically. Henry smiled.

“You have gorgeous legs, Sophie.”

She shook her head, wordless.
“Don’t argue,” he said. “Believe me when I tell you your legs are sexy and
beautiful and this,” he bent and pressed a quick kiss to the mangled skin just
above her kneecap, “doesn’t change that.”

Hot tears stung the back of her
eyes. She swallowed hard. Both because of Henry’s words and the feel of his
lips against her thigh. “Thank you,” she managed.

He brushed his open mouth against
her thigh again. “No, thank
you
,” he murmured against her flesh. His
tongue came out to swipe over her skin quickly. Sophie moaned. He moved to her
other leg and repeated the brief lick along her inner thigh. She clenched her
hands into fists, resisting the urge to grab his head and press him against her
slick sex.

This was like that first dance,
the one at the studio. He was going slow, gauging her reactions, testing her.
And just like she had then, she was following his lead breathlessly and
completely, ready for whatever direction he took her in next. She relaxed her
hands, taking a deep breath.

It caught in her throat as Henry
flicked his tongue against her soaking wet panties. Sophie felt the warmth of
his tongue as it wriggled against the lips of her sex, pushing against the
fabric of her panties. She rocked her hips forward for more.

But Henry pulled back, licking
his lips. He dropped his hands from her thighs, once again leaning away from her.
She knew what was coming, but the anticipation still made her shudder.

“Remove your panties.”

She should say something.
Shouldn't she? This was going too fast, too far. Her body was on fire with
desire. She wanted this, but she’d never done anything like it before. He
should know that. “Henry—”

“Off, Sophie. Now.”

His words were firm, commanding.
It made it so easy. All she had to do was listen to what he said, do what he
said, and they’d both get what they wanted. She curled her fingers around the
waistband of her panties and began sliding them down. As soon as they reached
her knees, she let them fall.

Her panties dropped around her
ankles and Sophie stepped out of them. He was still completely clothed, while
she stood naked except for her shoes. She lifted one foot. “My shoes—”

“Leave them on.”

She inhaled sharply at the deep,
wicked tone to his words. Henry got to his feet quickly, and reached out to
trace the line of her jaw, dropping briefly to tweak her nipple before brushing
through the soft, dark curls covering her sex.

Sophie trembled, hips twitching.
Her slick lips slid against his palm.

“Oh god!” She moaned. He stepped
closer, brushing a kiss across her mouth, tongue teasing at the seam of her
lips. He didn’t move his hand.

“Lovely Sophie, turn around.”

Her hands curled into fists, but
she did as he said, spinning until her back was to him. She gasped as he
pressed his whole body against hers. She could feel the hard length of his cock
prodding her buttocks and trembled. He nipped her shoulder while his arms came
around her. The heavy material of his slacks chafed the backs of her thighs.