Tap Dance (Dance Series)

chapter Three



I was awakened by a bell; a deep, slow, bell. When I initially opened my eyes I didn't know where I was. I slid up in the bed using my hands to bring myself into a full sitting position and got a whiff of the cotton nightshirt I was wearing.

Ram's.

I was at Ram's.

As my head processed that, I was also trying to determine what the noise was that had made me wake up. I reached for the lamp and heard it again.

I heard voices, muffled, so I knew that they must have come from down the hall.

Seemed awfully late for visitors.

Although, I didn't know how it worked at the Chief of Police's house.

I thought I heard my name mentioned, so I turned and got off the bed.

I popped my head out the door and realized the voices were coming from the living room at the end of the hall.

Without a thought, I made my way down the hall, holding the nightshirt up like one of the heroines in long dresses do in some of my historic romance novels when they're moving down the staircase.

But, I wasn't anyone's heroine.

And there wasn't a staircase.

There were just two male voices that seemed to be discussing me.

"…not returning my calls, Chief!"

"She's sleeping Adler."

"She should've called me. I could've helped."

"I was there. You weren't. Now she's here."

I walked down the hall towards them.

Paul was standing just inside the front door, still in his thick parka, holding his gloves in one hand.

Ram was standing across from him, clad in what I immediately assumed were the bottom portion of my top.

He was wearing only the bottoms, chest on display, even though it was turned away from me.

But the back view was just fine in my opinion.

Paul, who was facing me, caught sight of me first.

"Hey, Baby. How are you doing?"

"Hey, Paul."

"Sorry to wake you, Marianne," Ram said, half turning in my direction giving me an even better view.

"Hey, guys. What's going on?" I asked wondering if this was like a police department kind of middle of the night meeting thing. But my name had been mentioned a couple of times before they were aware of my presence. And, from their stances, things were getting tense.

"You okay, baby?" I heard Paul ask again.

I hated that word, hated to be called 'baby'. I wasn't a little girl and thought the alleged endearment was just plain 'icky'.

And I had said so on many occasions.

But Paul didn't stop calling me that even after I told him. Which made me wonder if, on some deep level, what I said didn't count.

Ram turned his upper body fully towards me and I got an eyeful of his muscular arms which were crossed against his chest.

And as my gaze went lower, I saw his abs.

Aw, geez.

My breath caught as I raised my eyes to him.

The sight of him half undressed was playing along every nerve ending I had.

"Marianne?" I heard Paul say.

"Uh, yeah?" I responded reluctantly moving my eyes to him.

"You okay, baby?" he repeated and it was, honestly, like the sound of a phonograph needle screech.

"Uh, yeah, Paul," I replied, tearing my eyes again away from Ram, not realizing they had drifted back to him without thought.

"Why don't you two talk and I'll, uh, make some tea," I heard Ram say before he moved off to the kitchen.

I walked around the couch and sat down, bringing my knees to my chest before raising my head to Paul.

Esthetically speaking, Paul was absolutely gorgeous. Dark sandy hair that was cropped close around the side with a longer top. Dark blue eyes and sharp features that were manly enough to offset the fullness of his mouth.

I had noticed he only shaved every couple of days so he was always a bit 'scruffy' which only added to his good looks.

But his handsomeness seemed a bit, well, contrived.

And in my mind, if the outside was contrived, what must the inside be like?

In the time that I'd been with him, that question had not been successfully answered.

Not at all.

"You okay, baby?" Paul asked yet again.

"Yeah, Paul," I said wrapping my arms around my calves after securing all the extra fabric of the long, long shirt around me.

"Why didn't you call me?" he asked, curiously never moving toward me.

"Everything happened kind of fast. I really didn't think about it, to tell you the truth."

I saw my words hit him hard which was not my intention. But as evidenced by his flinch, he thought there was a lot more between us than I did.

"But, it's nice that you came to check on me." I said it softly, knowing these words wouldn't cover the hurt my previous careless words had caused. I didn't want to remind him that he lived in a one bedroom apartment.

That situation would have been awkward as all get out.

We just stared at each other.

Which is interesting to note the look Paul and I shared there in Ram's house, from a distance of about fifteen feet, was nothing like the eye to eye lock Ram and I'd had in our 'moment' earlier.

"Call me tomorrow?" His words were a question. But his tone was a demand.

It was demanding that I do it, call him.

I didn't like that.

Not at all.

Yes, I was one of those girls.

The kind of girl who likes to make up her own mind, that likes to make her own choices. Who immediately butts heads with whatever Alpha male in the room who feels he needs to tell the girl what he wants done, when the girl should be doing it, and in the exact way that he thinks it should be done.

"Yes, Paul, I'll call you tomorrow," I said, just wanting him gone. He seemed like sand-paper in the calm of Ram's house.

"Take care, then, baby," he said before turning slightly and announcing, "Leaving, Chief."

"See you, Adler," came the call from the kitchen.

Paul did a chin lift and then let himself out the door.

I stayed there, in my cozy spot in the corner of one of the deep couches in Ram's living room. My chin was on my knees and my eyes were still on the door when Ram brought me a large earthenware mug.

"Chai?" he asked, as he pressed the mug into my hands.

"Sorry?"

"Tea?"

"Oh. Sure," I finally replied before my brain came back to the here and now. "What's that word you said?"

"Which one?" Ram sat himself at the other end of the long couch and brought his own mug up to his lips giving me an uninterrupted view of his torso.

"The one before you said 'tea'," I clarified shakily as I wrapped both hands around my own mug.

"Chai?"

At my nod, he smiled.

"It just means tea."

"Oh," I said artlessly. "Like at Buxby's."

"Are you okay, MG?"

I thought about his question for a minute.

"I'm getting there, I think. If that makes any sense," I mumbled, bringing the hot mug up to my lips.

I watched a smile play around his lips at my answer.

"The tea will help you sleep, Pyari. Drink," I heard him murmur.

I took a sip and it was a milky blend of spices with tea as the back note on my tongue. Strong, good and absolutely delicious. I felt the warmth of it spread throughout my body.

"Delicious," I admitted.

"Nectar of the Gods?" Ram teased.

I had told him that, for me, the first sip of coffee each morning was like having Nectar of the Gods when he had been in my apartment.

When he hadn't been the Chief but had been just the man, the gorgeous man, in my apartment not so long ago.

"You bet. A lot more than the coffee, I think. What's in it?"

"I'm not quite sure. It's a blend that my dad gets from India and shares with the rest of us."

"It's really good, Ram. Thanks," I said softly, trying so hard not to ogle him and failing miserably.

The hot drink, the beautiful room, the wonderful man sitting bare-chested at the other end of the couch, me in one of his native shirts.

Can anyone say 'swoon worthy moment'?

He got up and made his way to me holding out his hand. I didn't hesitate in the least and placed my hand in his.

He broke out into a full-face smile.

"No, Pyari. Your cup," he explained softly.

Oh.

Yeah.

Right.

My cup.

I handed him what he'd asked for, more than a bit abashed at my faux pas.

I saw him turn and look at me over his shoulder as he rounded the corner on his way to the kitchen and the light in his eyes made my heart beat faster.

Oh, golly.

But I stayed there, in my little corner of his couch, waiting for him to return.

Wishing that he would return and…

and…

Just be with me.

Be with me the way I knew, I freaking knew, he wanted to be.

I was always aware we were worlds apart, but now I really could see how his portion of the world and my little edge of it just overlapped in tiny pieces. Maybe not be completely fused, but there was a juncture there, between his world and my world, nonetheless.

A juncture where Ram and I might meet.

I saw the lights in the kitchen go out before he appeared around the corner again.

Saw him, my beautiful Ram, come to my side and hold his hand out again.

I swallowed, unsure what I was supposed to do.

But there were no cups to be collected.

Nothing to be toted away.

It was just him and me.

And as he stood there next to the couch, next to me, he continued to hold his hand out.

I hesitantly placed my hand in his and caught his smile as I did.

"To bed, Pyari, okay?" I heard him say.

And my heart beat did a triple rhythm when he spoke, as he led me again down the long hallway to the bedroom I had been given in his beautiful house.

As we stood there, in the light from the bedroom, he brought my hand to his lips.

"Sleep well, MG," he murmured against my skin. "Mera Pyari."

I didn't know what the last bit was that he spoke, but I recognized the want in his eyes which was surely mirrored in mine.

I wanted this man.

I wanted to have him between my thighs, inside me.

Without thinking, I swayed into him and wrapped my arm around his neck bringing his face to mine.

He didn't fight it and his eyes were glued to my lips the entire time I brought his head down.

I kissed him softly, right at the corner of his mouth, before I moved to kiss the other corner. I kissed his top lip and then his bottom lip, softly, willing him to respond to me.

After more than a few of those kisses, I felt him relax into it.

His hands stole around my back as he curled around me and he slanted his face so our mouths were in full contact. His tongue hesitantly, almost reverently, touched my lips and I opened my mouth to allow him entrance.

Oh, God.

Ram's tongue was in my mouth, swirling and twining with mine.

And I was aware that my breasts were pressed against his ribcage as he bent to me.

He released a bit, his lips still trailing over mine as I clung to him.

"Please, Ram…"

"Pyari…" he moaned and walked me backwards to the bed, lowering me onto it, before he followed me down. He dropped himself into the channel between my legs, our mouths still fused and moving.

I felt the evidence of his want and opened my legs further.

Take me, my heart said.

He pulled up onto his right arm until it was straight even though his hips, his hardness, was still pressed against the cleft of me.

"Are you sure…" he began.

But I didn't wait even a nano-second to consider what he was going to say to complete his sentence.

"You better believe it," I breathed, looking up at him.

God.

He was gorgeous.

I flipped up the longest part of the long shirt and gripped him with my thighs.

"Take me…" I whispered against his ear. "Take me, Ram."

I didn't have to ask twice as he fumbled to pull my panties off, sliding them down my legs, before reaching for his drawstring trousers.

And just as I was lying there, legs splayed and body wanting, yearning, an alarm went off deep inside the house.

Ram froze and turned tortured eyes to me.

"I'm sorry, MG. I have to go," he murmured, reaching and securing his drawstring before moving fast out of the room.