The Sextet - Dirty Dancing [The Sextet Anthology, Volume 2] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) (3 page)

* * * *

The man really did know how to cook. Juliana pulled a barstool up to the dark granite countertop where Craig chopped green peppers before throwing them into the skillet. Since she knew next to nothing about making food—except how to pick it up through a drive-thru—she didn’t recognize most of the exotic stuff he kept cutting up and tossing into the mix. But it smelled heavenly. “What do you call that stuff?” she asked as she refilled her glass from the bottle of soft red wine from the Napa Valley.

“I haven’t given it a name. Just something I mixed up once upon a time and everyone seemed to like.” He grabbed the long wooden spoon he’d been using to stir the food, plucked out a small dab, and then held it up for her.

“Too hot?” She eyed him warily.

“You mean spicy hot or temperature hot?” His smile settled low in her belly, and Juliana squirmed. Alejandro might have pegged her lust correctly, but he obviously hadn’t read Craig’s right. The man hadn’t so much as cast a hopeful look her way. Then again, he probably hadn’t been pining after her nearly as much as she’d thought about him.

“Both,” she replied.

He pulled the spoon back, blew some air over it—a gesture she found incredibly sexy—then offered it to her again. “It’s just the right kind of spicy and the temperature’s perfectly safe.”

Juliana ate the food, and as the taste of the seasoning burst over her tongue, she hummed in approval.

“Told you. I’m good, aren’t I?” The grin had changed from sexy to smug, but it was still enough to send heat racing through her veins and pooling between her thighs.

“Very good.”
And handsome. And sexy. And I want you…

Perhaps the time had come to tuck her ridiculous fantasies away and concentrate on one man. Craig.

She watched him move around his kitchen, admiring his grace. He was too gorgeous by half, and once he’d shown her around his condo, he’d grabbed a bottle of wine from the stainless steel wine cooler, popped the cork, and ushered her to the big island in the middle of the kitchen that served as a work area as well as an eat-in bar.

Craig reached for a jar full of what appeared to be dried leaves, grabbed a small one, and crumpled it over the mixture before putting a glass top over the skillet. “A few minutes, and we can eat. Enjoying the wine?”

“Oh, yes.” She sipped a little more and let it go straight to her head. She hadn’t eaten since breakfast, so the glass she’d already consumed had affected her too much for her to keep her guard up. She’d relaxed to the point she’d kicked off her shoes. Craig didn’t seem to mind—his place was exquisitely decorated but just messy enough to reveal that he wasn’t anal retentive about his things. Just like her. Their shoes sat tangled in a pile on the floor.

“My agent sent a case over after I got the role in
The Importance of Being Fred
.”

“I remember that show. I always hated parodies—
and
Oscar Wilde. Too dry and dated. But that show?” A snorted laugh slipped out. “Oh, shit. Please excuse that.”

“What? The praise for my play?”

“The laugh. I sounded like a piglet.”

“No, you didn’t. You sounded happy.” He put the spoon down and reached for the hand she rested on the granite. “I like that about you. You’re not like other actresses. You know when to act and when to turn it off and just…live.”

Her face flushed at the compliment. “I know exactly what you mean. It’s why I
never
date actors.”

His lips fell to a fierce frown as he pulled his hand away, but she had no idea what she’d said that caused such a change in his demeanor. “
Any
actors? I mean, couldn’t there be an exception?” Was that a hopeful look in those handsome eyes, or was it simply the wine distorting her point of view? Damn, if he didn’t appear…vulnerable. “I mean…if you met the right guy, you’d make an exception. Right?”

With a shrug, she said, “I suppose. Actors can be so shallow. So he would have to be the absolute right guy.”
Like you. I’d date you. I’d marry you. I’d have your babies…
She swallowed the rest of her wine in one long gulp.

“What did your date say when you called him?” he asked.

She shrugged. “Wasn’t too upset. It was a fix-up by a friend. I don’t think he was too enthusiastic about going out with me anyway. Maybe he didn’t like my last movie.”

“Then he’s an idiot.” Craig dished their dinner out onto two plates. Picking them up, he nodded at his glass. “Can you fill up my glass and bring it with us?”

“To where?” she asked as she poured him more soft red.

“The terrace. It’s such a gorgeous night. I figured we’d eat out there.”

* * * *

Craig shoved his empty plate aside, content to sip what was left of his wine and watch Juliana eat. The hums she made as she tasted the food he’d made for her hit him like a fireball as he wondered if she’d like eating his dick half as much. Because he sure wanted her to. All he’d done from the moment she’d set foot in his apartment was let his fantasies run wild, imagining the delicious things he’d wanted to do to her for the longest time. On the couch. In the shower. On his bed. He could almost feel her heat surrounding his cock, squeezing him tight while he pounded into her wet pussy. He’d even been able to push aside the visions of Alejandro enjoying her as well for the moment, although those images still nibbled at the edge of his consciousness.

And then she’d said she wouldn’t date actors. Nervous knots had formed in his stomach because he feared the battle was lost before he’d even begun to fight. Sure, Jules had said the right guy might change her mind.
Might
being the key word—the one he was pinning all his hopes on. But was
he
the right guy?

Or could she perhaps need
two
right guys?

No. Not sweet Juliana. She’d think he was a pervert if he even suggested it.

Tonight, he’d just have to convince her that he was the quintessential Mr. Right. After all, that had been the assignment Alejandro had given them—discover what he and Juliana felt for each other. And Craig had been a student who always did his homework.

Picking up the small black remote, he fired up the sound system. The place was wired to have music in all the rooms. His theater room was better than some of the studio screening areas. High tech was his domain. He advanced through the CDs he’d loaded earlier, and the velvet voice of Michael Bublé brought a smile to Jules’s beautiful face. “Wanna dance,
cherie
?” he asked, scooting back from the table and holding his hand out to her.

“Dance?” Her blue eyes stared up at him. “Aren’t you sick of dancing today?”

“Not if I can hold you. We’ll just call this practice for Monday. Didn’t Alejandro tell us to explore what we’ve got going here?”

“Lust. What he said we had going was
lust.
”

If he had a chance of winning her—truly winning her heart—it was time to start pressing his advantage and hoping for the best. He always sensed a deep well of passion in her, and now he would try to tap those depths. If he didn’t win her heart first, no visions could ever become realities.

Craig took her hand, pulled her to her feet, and tugged Juliana into his arms. She didn’t resist when he pressed against her and started swaying to the soft music. Not the fancy steps they’d been taught, but more like an embrace to the song, a touching of their bodies that all but mimicked the act he craved. “Alejandro was wrong. What I feel for you is so much more than lust,” he whispered in her ear. She trembled when he brushed a kiss to her earlobe and tugged gently with his teeth.

Content to hold her like this for a minute, or an hour, or a lifetime, he was afraid to push too hard too quickly. Her hand that had rested against his back began to rub small circles, forcing a smile to his lips. Her words, whispered against his neck, were so soft he almost missed them. “I feel more than lust for you too. So much more…”

All the invitation he needed. Drawing back, Craig let his mouth capture hers. She tasted so sweet, like wine with a touch of spice. His tongue teased her lips until she parted them to let him sweep inside and kiss her the way he’d fantasized for so very long.

The kiss was everything he’d hoped for and more. Her fingers tangled through his hair as she moaned deep in her throat. His cock had already been standing at attention—had been since he’d first danced with her back at Alejandro’s studio—but now it hunted her like a compass sought north. How could he let her know he wanted her so desperately he was about to explode without sounding like all he wanted to do was fuck her? He wanted her, but as more than a lover. And not just for tonight.

If he trusted his gut, Juliana Barrington was “the one.”

The music changed to a faster tempo as Bublé started belting out
Save the Last Dance for Me
. Using the moves he’d learned from Alejandro and trying not to let fantasies of threesomes spoil reality, Craig threw himself into the rumba, guiding Jules from the terrace into the great room. Their hips gyrated as her feet followed his in an extended version of what felt like foreplay. He was ready to rumba her all the way into his bedroom when she looked up at him with a salacious smile that close to made his heart stop.

She wanted him. Maybe as much as he wanted her…

* * * *

Juliana held her breath as she took a leap of faith. Everything in the way Craig was treating her spoke of deep feelings. He obviously was ready to become her lover—his cock was hard, pressing against her lower belly as they danced, making her pussy throb in need. The tender way he treated her gave her hope that she would be something more than another notch on his bedpost. He’d said he felt more for her than lust… But she needed to know for sure. “Wait…”

He kissed her again, and she forgot whatever it was she’d planned to say. His tongue caressed hers, and her knees felt as if they were suddenly made of Play-Doh. He growled as he pressed his palms against her ass and pulled her hard against his groin. “Wait?” he whispered. “For what? Don’t you want me, Jules? God, I want you. I’ve wanted you for the longest time.”

Wait?
When had she said wait? All she wanted to do was have him slam her up against the wall and start pounding into her like there was no tomorrow. “Make love to me, Craig.”

He swept her into his arms and carried her through the condo to an enormous bedroom. So masculine and inviting and downright Craig. Dark cherry furniture was arranged around a large bay window. A flat-screen TV was mounted on the wall opposite the enormous bed. He let her slide down his body to set her back on her feet before he started unbuttoning her shirt. Juliana didn’t help much because she kept getting in his way as she tried to jerk his Henley over his head. If they weren’t skin to skin soon, she might lose her mind.

“I wanna slow down, but…” His hands stroked her shoulders as he pushed her blouse aside. He kissed her long and hard as he popped the clasp on her lacey bra and tugged it off. Then he pulled out the scrunchie holding her ponytail. Her hair spilled over her shoulders, but his eyes were fixed on her breasts. “I knew it. I always knew you’d have the best tits.” Bending down, Craig drew a nipple into his mouth.

Juliana felt the intimate kiss jolt to her womb like a bolt of lightning. She arched her back and threaded her fingers through his hair. “Best tits? Even after all those other actresses you—”

He stopped her words by rising back to his full height and covering her mouth with his. After his tongue lazily explored, he finally ended the kiss to stare into her eyes. “Don’t believe all that stupid gossip, Jules. You could count on one hand the number of women I’ve been intimate with. After all, didn’t
The Tattletale
say you had relationships with—”

She shut him up with a kiss of her own. “Point taken,” she replied when her lips left his. “I haven’t been with a guy for close to three years.” The confession forced her to look away. He probably thought she was a freak, that guys didn’t want her when the opposite was true. She’d had more offers than she could count and often looked like a cold-hearted bitch by turning them all down flat. But despite living in a world where people treated lovers like they were nothing more than disposable, she’d never felt the need to brush aside her middle-class Illinois roots. Of course, if anyone knew all about her unusual fantasies… Surely she wasn’t the only woman in the world who desired taking more than one man to her bed and sharing her life with more than one person.

His smile melted her heart. “The last relationship I had was two years ago.”

That came as a surprise. “Seriously?” she couldn’t help but ask. “But everyone says—”

“C’mon, babe. You’re smarter than that. I don’t sleep around, and I know you don’t, either. That’s one of the things I find so damned sexy about you. And I find
a lot
of things about you sexy.” His fingers fumbled with the buttons on her skirt. “Your looks. That husky voice. The fact that you’re discriminating in your tastes.” He winked. “That’s why you’re with me, right?”