Deuce's Dancer

Deuce’s Dancer:

Journey Series, Book 4

By Patricia Green

©2012 Blushing Books Publications and Patricia Green

Copyright © 2012 by Blushing Books® and Patricia Green

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Green, Patricia

Deuce’s Dancer: Journey Series, Book Four

eBook ISBN 978-1-60968-687-1

Cover Design: ABCD Graphics

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Chapter 1

Deuce stared at the ceiling in his big house and imagined her right there with him. Her warm body would snuggle up against him, her breath soft against his chest. She'd be small and slender underneath his arm, and he'd stroke her breast as he'd done during the Jamaica holiday.

 He touched his bare chest as though she was pressed against him, and sighed. The last two years alone had been unpleasant, but finding Angie in Jamaica had reinvigorated his life, like turning on all the colors where there had been lingering gray.

The moment he'd seen her, he was strongly attracted to her. She carried herself proudly and didn't seem a bit shy, though she was topless and wearing the skimpiest thong bikini bottom imaginable on the clothing-optional beach. It was yellow, he remembered, neon bright against her tan. Her black hair and Hispanic features told him she was a Latina right away. Did she speak English, or would he speak to her in Spanish? He knew, without a doubt, that he'd speak to her. Even if she spoke Portuguese, he'd find a way to communicate.

Admiring the way her firm breasts and round rear jiggled as she walked by, he saw his opportunity to meet her when she dropped her sun lotion on the sand. As she settled into a chaise, he picked it up and brought it to her.

"You dropped this, Señorita."

Her eyes were amber. Not the dark brown he expected and that he saw so often in his Hispanic patients. They were startling, but she was so lovely, they seemed a perfect fit in her face. Deuce returned her smile and accepted her thanks.

Offering his hand, he tried to start up a conversation. "Deuce Journey. From Houston, Texas."

She took his hand politely, though it was clear from the wariness in her face that she was often hit on and thought this was another try. "Nice to meet you, Deuce. I'm Angie."

"It's a pleasure, ma'am," he drawled. His drawl wasn't as strong as many in his family, but he'd spent a lot of time in medical school in New York and had lost some of that twang. He wondered if she'd pick it up. Some people did; some didn't. He gestured to the chaise next to hers. "Mind if I join you?"

Angie put down her sun lotion and shook her head. "I suppose fellow Texans in Jamaica ought to stick together."

He turned the chaise so he could look at her pretty face—and those perfect breasts. A few erotic ideas spun through his head and he grabbed a folded towel off the chaise and put it in his bare lap as he sat down. It wasn't particularly subtle, but he didn't want to offend her. Were women offended if a guy got an erection just by being near them? It seemed a little crass, so he tried to focus on getting to know her rather than getting her in bed. He reminded himself that she wasn't the first beautiful woman he'd ever encountered. In fact, most often they came on to
him
rather than the reverse.

Being a successful pediatric cardiologist, and a bachelor, had some advantages. Deuce hadn't been averse to accepting a few of those offers in the two years since he'd been broken up with Stacy. Not many; he didn't like to sleep around. But a few had been too tempting to refuse. None had become something more enduring, however, and he hadn't pushed. Things with Stacy were still too complicated, and it seemed unfair to bring someone else into the fray.

"So you're from Texas, too. Where, if you don't mind me asking?" The ocean waves tumbled gently fifty yards away adding a background susurration to the calls of the gulls.

"Here and there. I've moved a bit." Her full lips formed the words in the most appealing way, but her answer was evasive. Maybe she was simply protecting herself from a stranger--stalkers happened.

"That's quite a coincidence: both Texans, here in Jamaica."

"Funny to travel so far to meet someone from home."

He grinned. "I agree. How long are you staying at the resort?"

The wariness returned. "To the end of the week. You?"

"I've already been here a week, but I'll head home at the end of the week, too." Her nipples were smooth, a slightly darker brown than her skin. He wondered what they'd be like under his fingers, then tried to put that desire away. "What do you do in Houston?"

"I'm a regional sales manager for a cosmetics company."

"Do you like it?"

She nodded, and the genuine smile came back. "I love it."

Deuce should have guessed she'd be in the beauty business, her light makeup was perfect. He might have taken her for a model, if she'd been taller or more busty. But he found her sexy the way she was, everything proportioned to fit her frame.

A waiter came by with a tray of rum punch drinks, and they each accepted one. Deuce noted that she took only the smallest sip and then put the drink down on the table between them. The napkin fluttered in the hot breeze. Obviously, she wasn't a party girl and that was good. He wasn't attracted to sluts.

"What do you do?" Angie asked, though he sensed cool politeness in her voice rather than sincere interest. Small talk didn't appear to be her thing.

"I'm a pediatric cardiologist," he told her. It was, he thought, maybe a little small of him to want to impress her, but it was the truth and he was proud of the accomplishment. The high arches of her eyebrows rose a notch. At the same time, though, a shadow crossed those gorgeous amber eyes. He wondered what that was about.

"Do you like it?"

"I love it." He turned on his high wattage smile, the one the girls seemed to respond to, and she did, smiling back.

"Working with kids must be both rewarding and difficult. Seeing those sick babies… I don't think I could do it."

"You don't get used to it, exactly, but you try to focus on what you can do to help rather than how unfair the situation is for them and their families."

Angie nodded. He wondered if her name was short for Angela. She was angelic, alright.

They chatted cordially for a little while. He mentioned that he had brothers and sisters near Sonora, but she didn't reveal much about herself. Deuce wouldn't have classified her as "secretive" exactly, but she was definitely holding back. It was possible that she was married, and he wanted to find out. If she was, that nixed anything further. He came right out and asked as there was no subtle way.

Taking another sip from her drink, she shook her head. "No. Are you?"

"No." Time to try for a little more. "Would you like to join me for dinner tonight? The resort has a fabulous steak house."

The shadow crossed her eyes again, but after a moment, she gave him a gentle smile. "Yes. I'd like that."

She seemed a little more forthcoming after that, and they talked about books and music for a while. Soon, the afternoon spun into evening, and he had to let her go and change for dinner. As she walked away, her sweet fanny swaying, he imagined exactly how delicious it would be to spank that bottom until it was deep rose and hot to the touch.

Dinner first, he reminded himself.

They shared their meal and laughed about things they'd seen at the resort. Their conversation focused on popular things, and she kept her personal life to herself. He didn't want to pry, but he got more curious as the night progressed.

Unfortunately, it came to a close all too soon. Although the resort atmosphere encouraged affairs d'amour, Deuce was a patient man and sensitive to Angie's reticence to make their encounter erotic on the first night. They agreed to meet the next day for lunch.

As they spent the next three days together, Deuce found himself eager for her company for more than the potential for sex. He really liked her. She was smart, sweet, fun to be around. Fearless when it came to the various activities around the resort. They even played chess in the nude on the giant chess set on the nude beach! Although she was shy about revealing her private life, she wasn't shy about her body. Deuce had a few moments of self-doubt, wondering if he'd misread her attitude. Maybe she was loose and he was being a fool for not taking advantage of her.

But no. When she brushed by him, her breasts rubbing against his arm, she seemed slightly embarrassed that her nipples got hard. There was no coyness in her expression, but a soft blush on her tanned cheeks.

He was smitten. They'd kissed goodnight each of their nights, each night progressing a little further as he touched her carefully through her clothes. On the third night, he cupped her bottom in his hands and rubbed his erection against her belly in invitation. Angie relaxed against him, rubbing him back, but, breathless and starry-eyed, she didn't accept his unspoken invitation.

"I should get some sleep," she told him. Indeed the hour was late, sunrise not far away. They'd listened to a talented house band play jazz into the wee hours.

"Are you sure?"

She nodded. "I'm sure."

"Angie…"

Her hand was warm on his chest and he covered it with his, kissing her again. The response was as deeply sexy as before, but once again, she broke away. "Too soon."

Was she playing hard to get? Was he doing something wrong? He tapped her nose with a fingertip, his drawl deepening as he spoke softly to her. "Are you leadin' me on, sugar?"

Her dark head shook from side to side. "I'm not trying to."

"You are, though. It's a good thing I'm a patient kind of guy."

"I'm sorry." Sincerity was clear in the tone of her voice, and the way she looked down at the buttons on his shirt. She was softening, bending, and he felt the submissiveness in her like a shadow at twilight.

Deuce tilted her chin up so she'd look at him, and her amber eyes fairly glowed in the moonlight. His erection was throbbing. "Soon, Angie."

Slowly, she nodded. She gave him one brief glance over her shoulder as she went into her room. Maybe there was longing there. Certainly, there was a smoldering ember. The lock snicked closed in the door.

It was frustrating. He wanted her badly. She turned him on completely. There was a seriously attractive whole to Angie, sex appeal and personality both. Pushing her, though, was likely to scare her away. He felt so intensely about her that he would surely come on too strong.

Patience was hard to find, but he'd been determined that he'd find it. Angie was special. Eventually, the time was right and they came together.

They'd made love seven times altogether over those last two days. Seven fantastic times. They were a perfect match in bed. She was passionate and submissive, but wasn't afraid to try new things and be a little feisty. Her hotel room had been forgotten, every moment spent together.

As they parted, however, she wouldn't give him her phone number or take his card. They could have made something work; he knew it. But she steadfastly held herself away. He could see the pain in her eyes. It made no sense.

Although two weeks had passed since the Jamaica trip, remembering their time together made Deuce hard and ready. Unfortunately, she wasn't there to share his libido. He took himself in hand and stroked, thinking of her and their passionate encounters.

It killed him that it had ended. As he felt his lonely release, he wondered where she was and if she ever thought of him.

* * *

While at the resort, Pilar had been sorely tempted to get deeper involved with Deuce Journey. Now, in her little apartment, in her big bed, she chided herself for replaying the memories of her trip to Jamaica over and over again. Deuce Journey was, by far, the most attractive man she'd met in her life. But she'd seen him under false pretenses. Or, mostly false pretenses. She'd been known as Angie for a while, but most of her friends and family knew her by her real name, Pilar.

When she went to Jamaica, she'd been determined to leave her normal life in Houston behind, to have some fun, live it up a little. But she couldn't change herself into a party girl, no matter how she tried. That Deuce was a Houstonite as well gave her pause, but they didn't move in the same circles and Houston was a very big city. It seemed like the risk was negligible.

The night that Deuce had made it clear that sex was on the table, she'd felt a jolt of pure desire. He was so tall, and his blue eyes were clear as Antarctic ice, though not a bit cold. She found her hands in his dark hair whenever they kissed, her fingers teasing the waves she found there. Hard muscles supported her when she would have simply melted with craving for him.

She didn't know how long she could hold out, or even if she wanted to.

But if he found out.… If he knew all her secrets, he'd be running the other way. A man with a prominent career wouldn't want to be caught dead with the real Pilar Peréz.

Unfortunately, she was hot as a gas flame for him, and there was no relief for that tension, save one. Was she willing to take that step and then walk away from him?

The next day was spent wind-surfing followed by lazing at the beach until the sun went down. She and Deuce took a boat tour of the nearby reef at sunset, and discussed politics and religion. They had both in common, but they found points on which they differed and it made for a lively conversation. They kissed several times, and Pilar's breasts firmed and her nipples got hard as pebbles under his fingers. Though Deuce made it very clear that he desired her, that he found her attractive and sexy, he didn't push hard. He was watching her closely, like a jaguar, waiting for the moment that she couldn't stand keeping him away any longer. It was a scary and thrilling thought to consider sleeping with him with no commitment and no future. In this case, what happened in Jamaica would stay in Jamaica.

Pilar kept telling herself to go for it. She deserved a little fling. At the same time, she was falling for Deuce and knew that if she let herself go, she'd likely be unhappy when they parted. Her self-respect was important, too. She'd been building that back up, and it was unclear to her if she could be a tart, even for a stolen night.

In the end, it didn't matter.

They had dinner together, and then went dancing.

"You're a fantastic dancer, Angie," he'd said, his gaze following her movements.

Uncomfortable with his admiration, she wanted to trip, to be clumsy and distract him from observing her too closely. But the music took her, as it always did, and she couldn't help her sinuous movements and the way her hips curled with the island rhythms.