Tap Dance (Dance Series)

chapter Twenty



I saw Ram's eyes warm when I made my way downstairs for our first 'official' date. With such a limited wardrobe, I didn't have much choice but from the expression on his face I could tell he liked what he saw.

He looked gorgeous, wearing a dark blue suit and light blue shirt opened at the neck, which made him appear so different from when in uniform or even in his casual jeans and button down shirt.

Wow.

Just, wow.

I didn't have a clue where we were going but I could guess from the way he was dressed that it was either Henry's or the Roses. I could've cared less if we grabbed a burger at Gateway Lanes, I just wanted to be with him.

But he had made it clear that this was important to him, us 'officially' dating.

I gotta admit, I found it funny as all get out.

But don't tell him that.

It was important to him.

Therefore, it was important to me.

I was right, it was the Roses.

And we even had a reservation! I was part of "Patel, party of 2".

We had a lovely meal, in a lovely restaurant, with other lovely patrons.

I didn't want to say it out loud, because this dinner date meant so much to him.

But I was more than ready to go back to his place.

Sure, the Roses is nice. And it’s the kind of place to get your 'swank' on, but it's not really my kind of restaurant. I guess, it kind of intimidates me. I didn't feel like I could laugh too loud or too long. I was very conscious of which fork to use with which course. And I made very, very sure to sit up straight and chew with my mouth closed.

Yeah, it was 'that' kind of swank.

But Ram looked like he was born to dine in such a place. He never fumbled with the silverware, seemed to know which glass was for what beverage and knew how to rest one's forearms on the table and still look classy. He didn't seem uncomfortable in the least and was charming, cool and extremely debonair.

Not that he acted differently than he did in any other setting or situation. But this particular setting and situation fit Ram like a glove.

Me? Not so much.

But, like I said, tonight was important to him.

So it was important to me.

I was never so happy to see the bill, in its leather folder, in all my life.

When the valet had delivered the truck and we were back on the road, I couldn't help the sigh that escaped my lips.

Which caused Ram to start to laugh, long and loud. I had to laugh with him because my sigh, the sigh that escaped, was very revealing and summed up how I was feeling about our dining experience.

What'd I tell you?

Sure bust.

That's me.

"Thank you, Pyari."

"For what?"

"For being yourself."

"You seemed pretty damn comfortable in all that elegance, Ram."

"When I was growing up, my family dined at some of the more distinguished restaurants in Denver. My brothers and I were also given lessons on etiquette. It was important to Mataji, that we knew how to conduct ourselves well in such situations."

"Really?"

"Really."

"So, like, when other boys were out playing sports or tooling around with the bicycles, you and your brothers took Tap Dance lessons and learned how to eat in fancy restaurants?"

He, again, burst out laughing.

"Yes. That's about right."

"Did you get teased much growing up? From the other kids?"

"Let's just say that the Patel boys got our own education in street fighting. And we were very good students. We're all only two years apart. Ajit was fond of saying, 'You mess with one of us, you get all three of us.' And it was true. But, by the time we were in high school, most of the more challenging people had learned to leave the Patel boys alone."

"Wow. From street fighter to Police Chief." Actually, I was liking the image of Ram as a street fighter.

He glanced at me before pulling into his driveway and I saw a wry grin on his face.

"From the look on your face, Pyari, I think you'd like a bit of the street fighter."

This time, I burst out laughing because he was right.

We were inside and I was puttering around his kitchen making tea when he came up behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist.

"But did you have a good time anyway, Marianne?"

"Anytime with you, Ram, is a good time," I replied. And I wasn't lying.

I felt him kiss the top of my head as his arm tightened briefly.

"Ram?"

"Yes, Pyari?"

"Now that we're dating, can I call you my boyfriend?"

I said it to make him laugh, a little joke between us.

"I would be honored if you would," he answered softly, his voice warm and full.

I twisted back to see his face.

He was absolutely serious.

Oh. My. God.



*.*.*.*.*

That night, I didn't get sensual, slow Ram who wanted to worship my body.

Uh-Uh.

I got Ram, the street fighter.

After he got me out of my dress, "But leave the heels on MG", he grabbed me and brought me to him where his mouth assaulted mine. His hands, as we kissed, slid down my back underneath my panties to grip my butt and pull me against his hard ridge. He pumped his hips to rub himself on me.

When I was released, it was only to unhook my bra and almost yank it down my arms. I have to admit, my chest was heaving. His rough play was nothing short of amazing, especially knowing that he was the same man that could do slow and sensuous until you were ready to scream.

He stepped back to look at me as he removed his suit jacket.

"Your body is incredible," he said, his eyes raking over my breasts and belly before lowering to my panties.

"Open your legs," he instructed taking a step towards me.

I immediately took a wider stance.

"Nice," he murmured walking around me.

My panties were drenched and my nipples were so tight they almost hurt.

He leaned towards me and whispered, "I can smell you."

Oh, dear merciful God.

"Yo-you can?"

He didn't answer but shoved his hand down into my panties where he roughly rubbed my * before sinking two fingers inside me.

"When you're this wet, I can smell you."

I could feel my heartbeat throb in the swollen tissues from his forceful fingering.

He dragged his now wet fingers out of my panties and immediately moved to tweak my nipples, moving between the two, plucking and turning them. I was gripping his shirt, my knees locked to steady myself against the onslaught of sensations.

He dropped his head and swirled his tongue over my taut bud, using his fingers to pinch and roll on the nub not captured by his mouth, keeping them erect and aching.

"And you taste as good as you smell," he whispered, moving to feast on the other protruding tip.

He shoved his hand down again, straight in to my panties again to torment my erect *.

I was right on the edge of peaking, of convulsing.

"Not yet," Ram said removing his fingers and taking a step back.

His eyes raked over me and my sex pulsed in response.

He began to unbutton his shirt. He removed his belt and undid the hooks on the waistband of his trousers before sitting down in one of the reading chairs by the window.

I watched as he tossed one of the throw pillows on the floor between his feet.

"Come here, Marianne," he said as he slid down in the chair, his chiseled chest barely exposed by his open shirt.

I teetered over to him, my legs shaking with the force of my want.

"Take off your panties and hand them to me," he directed.

I slid the now sopping scrap of lace down my legs and stepped gingerly out of them, careful not to snag them on my heels. I handed them to him and watched as he brought them to his face.

"I want to feel your mouth on me," he said softly, his eyes moving from my mouth to my breasts to my sex and back again.

I dropped to my knees on the pillow he had provided and moved to unzip his trousers.

My hands captured his hot, hard length pulling it out into the open. I glanced up to gauge his reaction and saw that his eyes held mine in a hot stare.

I licked my lips and heard his soft growl.

Rising up onto my knees, I gripped him with both my hands and began to stroke his thickness. I watched as a glistening drop of pre-cum appeared.

"Don't tease. I want your mouth on me."

I smiled up at him as I dipped my mouth to capture his fluid with my tongue, engulfing the crown with my lips.

His hands went to my hair as he gathered it to hold away from my face.

I raised my eyes to his, drawing his length into my hot mouth to torment and tantalize him in much the same way as he had done to me earlier. I spent several minutes using my tongue, my lips, my mouth to pleasure him.

"Enough," he said softly. He released the hold he had on my hair.

I raised my head and saw his eyes were tightly closed and he was holding himself by the base of his cock.

"You okay, honey?"

He opened his eyes, eyes that were filled with desire, eyes that didn't seem to move from my swollen mouth.

His groan was the only answer he gave.

You would've thought that my arousal would have subsided a bit when I was mouthing him but, if anything, it increased. I was still swollen and wanting.

While waiting for him to recover or, if I read his body language correctly, to get a grip, I snuck a hand down for a quick stroke to relieve the pressure between my legs.

I was still gazing up at him, centering on his beautiful face, when I saw his eyes flare.

"Are you touching yourself?" He asked with a note of wonder in his voice.

"Uhm, yeah."

"May I watch?"

"Only if I get to watch you stroke yourself," I whispered.

"Deal," he whispered back.

So we moved up to the bed, where he brought out a small bottle of baby oil from the bedside drawer. He positioned us so that we were facing one another, our legs open and draped over one another.

And we touched ourselves.

It was hot to watch.

It was hot to be watched.

It was amazing in every sense of the word.