show us before the dances begin?”
The light in the studio dimmed, and the announcer said, “Dancing the rumba certainly is like making love! So let’s see if William Darcy really can make love with a stranger…in a sensual rumba.”
Standing in the centre of the darkened studio, Darcy trembled when Elizabeth wrapped her arms around his back and pressed every inch of her body to his. The music began, and she smoothed her hands down his back as she swayed her body down at the same time, leaving absolutely no space between them.
He felt like he was being electrocuted. The sensation of having her hot breasts drawing a zig-zag path from his chest to his belly, and down to his thighs was beyond words. He hoped he wouldn’t have an erection in front of millions of TV audiences. He told himself to remember the routine…but all he could remember was the previous night.
What had happened last night?
When he’d first met Elizabeth at the launch of the season, he hadn’t paid much attention to her. She wasn’t an eye-catching blond like her sister Jane…but he couldn’t help noticing that she danced with passion, even partnered with a low-life like Wickham. After her dance routines, Elizabeth’s eyes would shine and glisten. A lovely crimson colour would blossom under her creamy skin. Her breasts would seem about to burst through her tight top, as if begging for a squeeze. Her butt and thighs were tightly toned, ripe for fondling. And, best of all, she would smile and laugh with joy, as if she had just successfully completed the world’s most difficult challenge.
Darcy had wanted to write her off as a loser who only wasted her life partying away, but then he began to encounter her frequently at social functions with Charles and Jane. He soon learned that she was, in fact, a dance teacher and a nurse.
She was witty, intelligent and independent. In fact, she was altogether different from the fake women who frequented the ‘old money’ circle. She didn’t need plastic surgery or high fashion to enhance her beauty. She didn’t need a rich man to satisfy her shopping or spending needs. He particularly admired her sincerity and her loyalty to Jane, their family and her friends.
He felt it was rotten luck that she had gotten herself entangled with Wickham. Darcy was strongly attracted to her, and she was off limits to him, not least because he didn’t want to be Wickham’s successor, thereby giving Wickham a chance to gloat.
In the two weeks since switching partners, Darcy had been in big TROUBLE. He had the hots for Elizabeth, and it didn’t help that she was staying at Pemberley, with her room only a few doors from his.
He could feel her soft curves, and inhale her fragrant lavender scent and spicy hot breaths during rehearsals. Scene after scene of sexual fantasy flashed through his mind, and he was in a constant state of arousal, day and night. That was why he had chosen to wear loose trousers all the time, excusing his awkward walking to all the dancing practice. He had been like a zombie, with no thoughts except those about her hot body.
Darcy, extremely embarrassed, was sure that Elizabeth knew about it, because she had to touch his body during the dance. Since he was seriously distracted by his sexual fantasies, he didn’t learn the routines and techniques as quickly as he had with Ann. That frustrated Elizabeth a lot, and she increased their hours of training from six to sometimes as many as ten hours a day.
The long sessions and constant nagging from Elizabeth finally got to Darcy. After training from 8 am to 4 pm non-stop the day before, Elizabeth was still not happy with his performance and wanted to extend the training till 7.30 pm, right before dinner. But he couldn’t bear the tension of holding her body for another second. He refused, stomped his foot, stalked out of the grand ballroom and shut himself up in the library.
Elizabeth decided to let him cool down. Around 7 pm, however, she was determined to talk to him again and to persuade him to put in two more hours of training after dinner.
She knocked on the library door with an ‘I’m the teacher, and so you had better behave’ expression on her face.
After several knocks, he still hadn’t responded. She was getting pretty worked up, and she banged even more loudly on the door.
Her fist was raised in preparation for banging on the door the third time, and so she was unprepared when it opened and she suddenly came face-to-face with a muscular bare chest. She couldn’t hold back her hand.
She left a red mark on Darcy’s naked torso.
“What the hell?” He felt the pain and growled.
Embarrassed, Elizabeth wanted to apologize but, hearing his growl, she couldn’t resist defending herself. Slipping past him and kicking the library door shut to prevent others from hearing their argument, she yelled back, “You brought that on yourself! You left the training like a spoilt child and then refused to open the door when I knocked nicely.”
His eyes widened. He couldn’t believe she was blaming him when she was the one who had smacked him.
“I was asleep, you crazy woman! I didn’t hear your knock, at first. And I didn’t leave the training like a spoilt child. I left after 8 full hours.” Raising his hand to his left chest, he massaged the flesh where her fist had landed, then turned slowly and walked to the couch at the far right-hand side of the room.
It was Elizabeth’s turn to widen her eyes. She had seen many bare-chested men on beaches before, but his shoulders were broad and muscular. His chest was smooth except for some hair near his belly button, tapering down to disappear into the waistband of his black –
Darcy froze in his path towards the couch and wheeled to look at her. She was standing there, legs apart, hands on hips, her lips opened as her face turned red. His sleepy head cleared abruptly, for Elizabeth’s pose looked somehow familiar to him. Pictures raced through his mind, and he suddenly made the connection.
“There you go again!” Elizabeth took a step forward to scream right into his face. “Can’t you get one of your women to keep your little Willie down, at least for a few minutes? We have a dance competition to win tomorrow. I don’t want my reputation ruined by your animal insti…”
He had had enough of her accusations. He pulled her by the waist, closing the gap between their bodies. Then he mashed his lips against hers to silence her. He poured all his weeks of admiration, lust and frustration into the kiss, biting her lips and thrusting his tongue into her mouth.
At the same time, his hands were busy branding her body. First, her tight butt needed fondling. The thin cotton of her dress was no barrier. Secondly, he ran his hands down her thighs, feeling their strength and smoothness. Then he freed one hand to cup her breast. It was pert, the perfect size for his big palm. When the contact caused her nipple to harden, he couldn’t help but pinch it, while his other hand pushed aside her G-string so that he could slide his fingers in to trace her secret lips.
Elizabeth’s hands came to wrap around his neck.
Feeling her legs begin to buckle, he picked Elizabeth up and placed her on the large couch, which he had had custom-made to fit his six-foot frame. To his satisfaction, there was plenty of room on it for the two of them.
Elizabeth was in a haze. She didn’t understand why she wasn’t protesting. She didn’t like him at all. He was a known womaniser! But he was also handsome and intelligent, nothing at all like George, who talked non-stop about his famous and exciting career. He didn’t talk much, most of the time, but when he did, he expressed the most fascinating and fresh ideas about medical issues and the care of patients. His hands and tongue were like magic bands! Maybe two weeks of non-stop sensual dancing and living together had muddled her head, too.
Thinking back to the
Elizabeth felt a hot flush race through her body and moisten her G-string.
