Learning Curves - By Elyse Mady Page 0,5

differentiate her from the hundreds of women who’d watched him in the past.

What made this woman so distinctive was the awe and respect in her gaze as she watched his performance.

His cock twitched and jerked. Just knowing this woman watched made him hard. He couldn’t remember the last time something like that had happened while he performed. If ever.

He glanced at her again and this time, she met his look, her eyes wide, her lips slightly parted. Never breaking the connection between them, he began to strip off his pants, rolling his hips in time to the urgent strains of Coltrane’s saxophone. Her eyes were riveted to his body and the growing bulge being revealed inch by inch by his methodical striptease. She licked her lips and Brandon felt another rush of blood to his groin, this time so strong and urgent he nearly missed a step, shifting his weight awkwardly to recenter himself in time to the music.

He’d danced like this, stripped like this, hundreds of times, and he’d never gotten so carried away. Or so turned on. The fantasy he inhabited seemed, in this suspended moment, startlingly real. As if they were alone in an otherwise empty room and his teasing movements were only a lead-up to the inevitable. A private erotic prelude that made them both horny and aroused, so that when they finally touched, when he finally kissed her tight nipples and let his fingers slide into her slick cleft, stringing her along on the edge of orgasm before sinking his desperate cock into her welcoming pussy, it would be electric.

The frantic hooting of the women around the stage brought him back to reality. Christ, he’d gotten rock-hard, lost in his fantasy, without even realizing it. Because for those few stolen moments, his performance hadn’t felt fake at all. His pants dropped away and he picked them up in time to the music. Get a grip, man. Brandon chided himself for getting so carried away. But as he moved to dance away across the stage, the urge to let her know he’d seen her watching and felt the connection, however momentary, overcame him.

He winked.

Leanne wasn’t sure whether to put her face in her hands or just dive underneath the table. But there was no denying this dancer’s magnetic force and the wild sense of sexual potential that emanated from him. Watching him, she’d even forgotten where she was. For one brief moment, it really had seemed as if they were alone and he stripped just for her.

Strong, defined muscles outlined his chest and arms, his abs tight and firm. His dark blond hair was cut short and his face conveyed a strong reserve Leanne found strangely appealing. Self-contained, even watchful, behind his overtly sexy, chiseled persona. She could relate to that sense of self-containment—she experienced it every day.

But it was more than just his body or his looks, as magnificent as they were. His performance had been truly magnetic. Unlike the dancers who performed earlier in the night, there’d been an ease and fluidity to his movements. He didn’t just move to the music, he played a duet with his body. And for a few moments, he’d been dancing just for her.

Wishful thinking. For pro like him, his job depended on making every woman feel special, but still…The need to see him again overwhelmed her. She wanted to know if the crazy thrumming sensation he’d fired up low in her belly was a fluke or if it could be magnified, taken further. Maybe, if she—

“Did you see him?” Gillian’s throaty whisper interrupted Leanne’s fevered planning. “He couldn’t take his eyes off me.”

“Y-you?” A shiver of apprehension threaded through Leanne’s gut as she came down to earth with a crash.

Was Gillian right? Had she totally misunderstood his intentions? After all, what guy would be interested in her, with Gillian sitting only feet away? And on the heels of that lowering thought, another, more bitter one. Why does she always get the good guys?

Gillian peered at Leanne scornfully. “Well, duh. The guy was sporting a total hard-on. I’m sure they jerk off before they come on stage to maximize their take and all but you could totally see it when he tore off his pants.” She paused, considering. “You know, maybe I should hire him for my own private performance. It’s not like the ring’s on my finger yet.”

The bridesmaids tittered but Leanne felt deflated.

“You’re getting married,” she argued, struggling to be heard above the music. “You’d jeopardize