Lovers' Dance (16 page)

She licked her lips slowly, eyes filling with a heat that made him want to bend her over the table and have his way with her right now.

“But you are a decade—”

Matt cleared his throat loudly and she burst into laughter. He smiled. The phone rang and he glanced at his wristwatch. It was late.

“I’ll be right back,” she said, laughing as she rose up from the table. Bloody hell, that dress was amazing on her. Matt listened to her answer the call and he felt an unmistakable spurt of jealously. Dante. Why the fuck was he calling his woman at this time of night? He heard Madi giggle and he put his utensils down. Taking another gulp of water he stood up, then made his way to the living room.

She stood by the fireplace, back to him, and twirling her hair. That spurt of jealousy was now a full-blown storm. She did that every time. Every fucking time she was on the phone with him, she would play with her hair. Matt knew she had a crush on Dante. He’d been in enough relationships to spot the signs. In this case, he truly was older and wiser. He knew she liked Dante and it killed him inside. It was the manner in which she talked about him, about their work together, their childhood growing up, their shared aspirations for the dance company. Matt was getting to the stage where he wished Dante would get on a plane and fuck off back to the States. He stood filling the doorway and scowled. This was becoming intolerable. It had started a few days before his birthday last month. He had wanted nothing more than to spend the day curled up in bed with her, but his mother had planned that farce of a party which he felt obligated to attend. On his way there, Matt realized how much he wanted Madi at his side. He grew weary of this secret relationship. It was she who suggested it initially. Matt, in his eagerness to explore a sexual relationship with her, had agreed. He would’ve agreed to any terms to keep her in his bed, and it also dealt with the issue of the media and his family finding out. But he was tired of hiding. His scowl deepened as her conversation turned to work, a discussion about the upcoming production she had told him about. Matt had thought her dancing exquisite that day he saw her in Convent Gardens.

What he hadn’t enjoyed was Dante’s bloody hands all over her. She danced differently with him, it was clearly noticeable. At first, Matt thought it was due to them spending most of their training at their old dance school together but, lately, he was beginning to believe it was more. And they looked good together. Matt never thought the day would come when he was jealous of a young black man, but that bloody day was here. Madi was his. She was his and he wouldn’t let her go. He loved—

Matt took a deep breath, a shaky breath, as he finally admitted to himself something that he recently suspected but didn’t want to believe, telling himself it was foolish to think in such a way. Matthew Bradley didn’t believe in love. There was duty and loyalty, the obligations expected of him and his siblings. Marry well and maintain the Bradley name. But she belonged to him, damn it. 

He loved…her.

“Pyjamas,” she said jokingly. “Now go focus on the last bit of the choreography and I’ll see you in the morning.”

Matt thought he was angry before, now he was livid. What sort of question got an answer like that? He knew because it was a question he’d asked her more than once when he was unable to come see her.

What are you wearing?

She turned around, the smile on her lips faltering at the look on his face. Matt schooled his features into a neutral mask. Trying to find the right time to bring up the topic of their secret relationship was hard. They were both busy people and, when together, spent most of their time lost in the pleasure of each other’s bodies. Now was as good a time as any to tell her he wanted to stop hiding, before someone else stole her away from him. He’d be damned if he let that happen. Matt wanted to stamp his claim to her, to make it known no one else could have her. He wanted to beat Dante to a pulp, but he was a civilized man and that would not do.

“We need to talk, poppet,” he said quietly, knowing how ominous those words sounded when he saw uncertainty ripple over her face.

<><><>

I watched Matt nervously. Why was he angry? The dispassionate expression he wore didn’t fool me anymore. I was getting better at reading him. Was it the too spicy casserole? Or the mocking candles? Or me?

“About what?” I asked, fearing his answer. He was going to break it off. I knew he’d been distracted about something the past few occasions he stayed over, but I had foolishly put it down to work.
Fuck. I was about to be dumped.

The phone gripped tightly in my hand rang, startling me so much I jumped. Matt’s jaw clenched and his eyes flashed in anger as he glanced at the phone, then raised those chilly grey eyes to my face.

Fuck. I was so dumped. I glimpsed the number flashing up. International. There was only one person who would call me at this time of night.

“Give me two minutes, Matt. It’s my aunt calling.” I spun around towards the fireplace, needing to hide my features in case they gave me away. Oh God. I didn’t want him to dump me. My heart felt like a lump of coal at the thought of Matt saying goodbye to us, a blackened, lifeless piece of coal. “Hey, Aunt Cleo, how are you?”

Matt moved further into the living room as I listened to my aunt complain about her kids and husband. Then came the expected: money.

“Aunt Cleo.” I tried for firm. “I can’t right now.”

I could feel Matt pacing my living room. The urge to turn around and watch him was great, but I didn’t want to see the distance in his eyes. Our relationship had seemingly run its course. It was hard, had been so hard to fight my growing feelings for him. Spotting pictures of him in magazines, tabloids, most of the times with a beautiful woman on his arm…it had been so fucking hard to not say, “Matt, it hurts.” I had swallowed my pain because I knew what I was getting myself into from the get-go.

“Please, don’t. Aunt Cleo, I can’t—of course, I love you. Fine. Jesus Christ.” She shouted at me so loud for taking the Lord’s name in vain I had to take the phone away from my ear for a moment.

“I’m sorry,” I muttered, cradling the phone between my shoulder and ear as I unconsciously fiddled with my hands. Not wanting Matt to overhear any more, I walked into the kitchen.

<><><>

Matt watched her as he paced the floor. She was upset. He always knew when she got stressed. She would scratch her little finger without being aware she was doing it. He watched her disappear into the kitchen, then followed her.

<><><>

“I don’t have that much spare, Aunt Cleo.” My voice was a low hiss. Why did she do this to me? Ask me for money, then remind me of all the years she had cared for me like her own. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to help her, it was financially impossible to get her the amount she wanted when she wanted.

“How can you owe so much in back tax? Doesn’t Reggie do your taxes anymore?”

I watched Matt uneasily as he came into the kitchen and pulled a chair. This was embarrassing. The issue of money hardly ever came up between us. We both tried to avoid it like the plague.

“Look, I’ll sort it. I need a few days. I’ve got to go. Bye.” I hung up before she could find another one of my weak points and exploit it.

“Sorry about that.” I attempted to smile at him as he sat on the chair and stretched his legs out. With a deep breath I said, “You wanted to talk?”

Here it comes. The: ‘Listen, poppet, we’ve had fun, a few laughs. Let’s call it quits now.’

Matt stared at me for a long moment, then held his arms out. “Come here, poppet.”

Shoulders drooping, I made my way over to where he pulled me into his lap and eased the phone out of my hand. Was this the last cuddle from him? When he ended it, I would put on a brave face and agree with him. Why did he have to touch me? The soothing stroke of his hand over my back was heaven; any time he touched me it felt like heaven. Maybe he wanted to have sex one more time before he kicked me to the curb. Well, no. I would say…yes. Who was I trying to kid? Matt was an experienced lover, and being with him the past couple of months had been bliss. He did things, things that turned my body into one big puddle of pleasure. All my virginal nervousness had long gone. All that remained was my eagerness to please him between the sheets, to see his eyes darken with delight when I followed his lead and gave myself over to his expert tutelage. I’d surprised him a few times by my behaviour. He was addictive, so damned addictive, and he wasn’t mine. Not really. We were only fooling around with each other.

“Did you hear me, poppet?” he murmured, lips nibbling my sensitive neck. I’d been so engrossed in my depressed musings his words had gone unnoticed.

“Ah, no.” Hands curled into fists to stop myself from grabbing him. “What did you say?”

Matt chuckled against my skin, his warm breath tickling my ear. “I’m going to presume your lack of focus is due to me touching you and not my boring you.”

I squirmed in his lap as he nibbled my ear and chuckled. A low, seductive sound. I enjoyed it when he laughed like that, knowing he was thinking dirty thoughts and wanting those thoughts to be put into actions.

“What did you say, Matt?”

“I said, let’s go on a short holiday. Anywhere you want, as long as it’s somewhere hot.”

I leaned back, eyes wide with surprise.
A vacation?
He wanted to go on a vacation with me? Not break up like I’d assumed?

“Are you serious?”

Matt nodded, then manoeuvred me around so I straddled him on the chair. “I’m a very serious man, poppet. Have you been to Italy before?”

I shook my head while his hands began to edge my dress up my thighs. His head was bent as he pushed my dress up completely, revealing the blue silk panties I wore. Matt let out a satisfied sigh, fingers stroking lightly over my upper thighs, creeping higher. Another sigh left his lips when he felt the slight dampness of the material.

“I own a few properties around Italy.” His fingers became more demanding as he rubbed me through the material. “All nicely private. With a little luck, I should be able to clear up my schedule for a few days.” He slipped the panties to one side, baring me for his perusal, and the sound he made this time was quite gratifying. “What do you think, poppet? Mmm?”

I was distracted, to say the least. Matt’s erotic stroking over my flesh had my brain stuttering.

“I’ve got a lot going on at the studio,” I managed to get out. Matt lifted his gaze to mine the exact moment he slid a finger inside me. I gasped in pleasure at the intrusion and a smug smile tugged his lips.

“Take some time off,” he ordered, two fingers moving in and out my body. I was wet, soaking wet, and Matt was obviously enjoying his ability to make my body respond quickly to his touch. “Let’s go to bed,” he said huskily. I shuddered as he pulled his fingers away, then blushed furiously when he stuck his fingers into his mouth and licked them clean, eyes trained on me the whole time he did so.

“Blushing, poppet?”

I shoved him in the chest as I jumped off him. “Black girls don’t blush,” I answered, my embarrassment making my tone terse. Matt laughed, then stood up adjusting his pants as he did. The thick bulge in there had my mouth watering with anticipation.

“Whatever you say, Madi. Now, I want to talk to you about those candles. Remember what I warned you I would do if you—”

I was shrieking and running out the kitchen, planning to lock myself into the bedroom. Matt gave chase, his legs were longer but I was smaller and, in this instance, faster. He caught me though, right inside the bedroom door.

“Don’t you dare,” I said, giggling as he wagged his eyebrows at me in a lecherous manner.

“Promise you’ll stop harping on about it,” he said with a touch of exasperation. “Your constant reminders only serve to cement the fact I am an advantageous old coot corrupting your innocence.”

“I’ll stop,” I promised, tugging his shirt out of his trousers. “Do you want your present now?”

Matt licked his lips, erroneously assuming it had something to do with my body. He nodded, undoing his belt and unzipping his pants. I grinned at him, then headed for the dresser where the gift-wrapped rectangular box lay.

“Poppet,” he said, as I walked back with it in my hands. “I didn’t expect a gift.”

“Open it.” I held it out to him. With an embarrassed frown on his face, he shrugged off his pants before taking the box. Matt in his shirt and silk boxers was an incredible sight.

“It’s light,” he said, shaking it. I grinned and he started to grin as a speculative gleam lit his eyes. “Mmm, I’m hoping it’s something lacy that fits you perfectly.”

I shook my head, my grin one of nervousness now. I hoped he liked it. The gift was supposed to be tongue-in-cheek.

Matt tore off the wrapping and opened the box. He shot me a quizzical look as he took out a bunch of clothes hangers.

“The past few weeks you’ve been leaving your clothes behind,” I began to explain. “I thought maybe you could hang them up in the closet instead of on the chair. I mean, I keep reminding you to take them when you go, even washing and folding them for you…and you know I don’t normally fold clothes.”