Before she could protest, he slid his hand from her belly to inside the front of her skirt.

She nearly gasped out loud before clamping her lips shut and swallowing the murmur of pleasure. His fingers danced across the outline of her underwear. “I would hate it,” she whispered, giving in to him, to his touch. He caged her in, his big, strong body shielding her. Her belly was flush against the hard stone railing, and as the gorgeous fountains began their nighttime ballet, he dragged his fingers across the lacy fabric of her panties.

She ached for him. He neared her throbbing clit, and the desperation inside her intensified. All that sucking, licking, and teasing she’d done with the candy had turned her on fiercely. Tempting him had heated her up, and she was operating at high levels of lust already.

He kissed her earlobe softly. “Don’t make a sound. Don’t say a word. Don’t let anyone know but me.”

She nodded her agreement. He lined his body firmly against her. God, how she wanted to feel him slide into her. To fill her completely. She was ready for him, so slick and liquid.

His hand made its way inside the waistband of her panties, then lower and lower still, and... oh dear God... his fingers were on a fast track for her hot, wet center. When he glided them across her, she nearly screamed.

“Was it all that sucking that got you this hot?” he whispered as he stroked.

“The sucking and the talking and now the touching,” she answered quietly as she shuddered in his arms.

He stopped his movements. “Hold still, babe.”

“I will.”

“Promise me you can stay still or I’ll have to stop.”

The prospect of him stopping was horrible. She was dying for his touch, for him to get her off as only he could. “Promise.”

“Good. Because all this wetness is fucking perfect for my fingers to slide through,” he said in her ear, so low only she could hear as he stroked her. “All this fucking beautiful wetness. I want to feel you grabbing my dick with this sweet wet pussy.”

“Me, too,” she whispered, and started to rock her hips into his hand.

He tsked her in her ear. “Don’t do that. You don’t want to be the girl on the video.”

“I don’t,” she said softly, her voice trance-like, her body overcome with silver sparks of desire as he rubbed his fingers across her heat. She drew a breath, as if that would give her the ability to stay still. She stood rigid and tense against the stone, even though she wanted to let go, to give in. She held in all the anticipation as he stroked faster, more expertly.

She bit her lip, driving her teeth sharply into her own flesh to hold back all the sounds eager to fly from her lips. She wanted to close her eyes, to rub against him, to moan and groan and sing out his name. But she refrained because she wanted one thing even more.

To come.

* * *

She was hotter than she’d ever been. Slippery wetness coated his fingers. Her slick heat was all over him. Her panties were useless. He was dying to rip them off her, hoist her up on this railing, spread her wide and properly worship her perfect pussy. But this was a high, too—her, ramrod straight, hiding her pleasure, fighting back her screams. It was such a thrill. Her need to come was intoxicating. Her ability to stay quiet was so impressive, when he knew how much she wanted to move. He slid his fingers across those delicious pussy lips, wet and warm and inviting. She trembled against him as he stroked up and down, then focused on her swollen clit, so needy, so hungry for his touch. He rubbed his finger against her, and he could feel the way tension tightened in her body as she neared the edge.

“Don’t move, Shan,” he commanded. “I know you want to. I know you want to ride my hand so badly right now, don’t you?”

She nodded the back of her head against his chest.

“You want to fuck my hand like the wild woman you are.”

Another nod.

“And it’ll be even harder for you to hold back when I slide my fingers into you,” he said. Her shoulders rose up in a sharp line of tension. Her beautiful body was strung tight, stretched to the limits of her own desire, her own sexuality. He loved knowing how to play her, how to touch her, how to send her into a land of bliss.

So he did as promised as the sprays of water soared higher, and the music grew louder. Crowds surrounded them, but he didn’t care. No one could tell his hand was in his favorite place, and no one knew the gorgeous brunette in his arms was seconds away from nirvana. He slid two fingers deep into her. She gripped him and started to move her hips.

He brushed his mouth against her ear, and spoke sharply. “You move, I stop. You want me to stop?”

“No,” she said, breathy, so desperate.

“You want to come?” he growled.

“Yes,” she whispered.

“I’m not going to cover your mouth,” he said, in a warning. “And I’m not going to let you bite down on my arm. You’re just going to be quiet. Got it?”

She murmured something that sounded close to a yes. He thrust deeper, his thumb rubbing her gorgeous clit, and her body tightened. “Yeah, babe. Come on my fingers. Let me feel you come all over my hand,” he said, and she clenched tightly around him, her body shuddering in his arms.

He watched her face, her gorgeous, beautiful face, as she squeezed her eyes shut, and nearly sealed her lips together to zip up her cries as she came on his fingers.

As she trembled, he uncurled her fist from around the lollipop she’d been gripping tightly in her hand. He brought the candy to his mouth and licked it once, smacking his lips.

“Mmm. You’re right. That is delicious.”

* * *

Later, as he walked her to her ride, he didn’t press. He didn’t ask again if he was forgiven. Instead, he kept moving forward, because that was what they were doing.

“When I was in New York, I saw a sign for the Alvin Ailey dance company on tour,” he said.

Her eyes lit up. “I love Alvin Ailey. It was my dream to win a spot in Alvin Ailey.”

“I know. And I remember in college you wanted me to go with you. But I had a gig so I cancelled on you.”

Her smile erased itself. The memory of another one of his dick moves must have just returned to her. He kept talking, eager to right that wrong from years ago. “So I bought tickets to see them here next week. I’d really like to take you. And I will keep my promise to take you.”

She looped her arms around his neck. “Yes. I would love to go with you.”

He wanted to pump his fist in the air, to shout a victorious yes. Then he wanted to close his eyes and groan in pleasure, because she was running her fingers through his hair. He loved the feel of her hands in his hair.

“You really know how to treat a woman you used to go out with, don’t you?”

“Speaking of that,” he said, pulling back and cupping his hands on her shoulders. Tonight had gone so well, and he wanted to build on it. To keep up the momentum. To do that, they’d need to let go of the old wounds. “Shan, how would you feel if we agreed to move on from the past?”

“To put it behind us?”

He nodded. “Yes.”

“Are you asking if you’re forgiven?”

“Kind of,” he admitted with a small grin, hoping it might help his cause.

She looked him square in the eyes. The corners of her lips curved up, as if she was considering his request. He held his breath, waiting for her answer. Then it came, as she nodded. “I think we could both use a fresh start, so let’s focus on the here and now, not the way things were.”

He smiled broadly. “Good. So we’re dating then,” he said as they reached the front of the Bellagio where her ride was pulling up. He’d parked his Indian Dark Horse there, too.

“I think it’s best if we don’t label what’s happening between us.”

He could live with not labeling. But he couldn’t live with the possibility that someone else might try to date her. He had to lay down one ground rule. “I’m fine with not labeling, as long as the not-label includes not dating other men.”