Follow My Lead (Stepping Up 2)

It was a long, drugging kiss that took the wildness of their need for each other to another place. To a softer, more sensual place. And when he pulled back to look at her, his eyes smoldering with so much more than heat, she could feel him everywhere, inside and out. She could feel this connection they had growing and shifting.

She reached up and traced his lips. “Blake,” she whispered, unable to find any other words to describe what she was feeling right then.

He covered her hand with his and kissed her fingers, before slipping his hand behind her neck and bringing her mouth to his. “This is where I want to be every night.”

She smiled against his lips. “Really?”

He brushed hair from her face. “If it’s with you.”

“Yes,” she said, her chest tightening again. “Yes. I want that.”

She wasn’t sure who moved first, but suddenly they were kissing, their bodies entwined in a seductive, mindnumbing dance, her body tingling and warm all over. Slow turned to fast and wild as their need expanded and took control. They clung together, pressing into each other, trying to get closer.

Release came on Darla without warning, and she tried to fight it, tried to make this last, but it was impossible. She gasped with the sudden spasm of her body, dropping her head to his chest. He moaned near her ear, and she felt him shake against her, felt the intensity of his release. Time stood still until she brought the room back into focus. For what felt like minutes she didn’t want to end, they lay there, breathing together, just being together, until he affectionately stroked her hair.

“I have an important question for you,” he announced.

She leaned back to look at him. “You say that at the worst times.”

“What’s bad about me asking you if you want to shower before or after we order pizza?”

She smiled. “While we wait for it to be delivered.”

He kissed her nose. “I like the way you think. And once you feed me we can give the bed another whirl.”

“Once you feed me,” she said, “I might need to give sleep a whirl.”

“As long as you let me try and talk you out of that, I’m a happy man.” And she was most definitely a happy woman.

19

FOUR WEEKS LATER, WHEN DARLA stepped into the cabin of the Vegas-bound private jet in Dallas, Texas, she found Blake in the second row aisle seat. His brilliant blue eyes fixed her in one of his searing stares that always set her pulse racing and her body flaming. That it did so now, and that she was thinking of the naughty things they had done the night before, was a testament to just how hot and heavy their relationship had become, because she was sick and getting sicker by the second. “There are no other seats open,” Ellie said from the front row next to Jason. “You’re stuck with Lana.”

Darla jerked her gaze from Blake’s and centered her attention on the empty seat next to Lana opposite Ellie and Jason. A new wave of nausea overcame Darla, and she sunk into the aisle seat beside Lana, not even caring that Lana would leave the shade up and niggle at her nerves. It was nine o’clock and dark outside and she just needed to sit before she fell.

“I don’t know why you and Blake don’t just sit together,” Lana commented. “We all know you two are an item.”

“Sorry, Lana, but you’re stuck with me,” Darla said in the perpetual avoidance mode she’d been in since the first television commercial had run last week. The feedback from the television blogs, as well as the cast and crew, was buzzing about her and Blake. She kicked her bag under her seat, feeling like she was about to end up there, too, if she wasn’t careful, and wishing the bathroom wasn’t at the back of the plane.

“You okay, Darla?” Ellie asked, touching her arm from across the row. “You’ve gotten paler by the minute today and you didn’t even try and change seats with me. In fact, you didn’t even argue with Lana one time today. I’m worried about you.”

“Thanks, sweetie, but I’m just tired,” Darla said appreciatively. She liked Ellie, who was truly a nice person.

“You really do look as white as a ghost,” Lana said, giving her a keen eye. “Are you sick?”

A ghost. Great. Just what she wanted to look like for Vegas Week. Darla turned to look at Lana. “Why? Are you afraid I’m going to throw up on you?”

Lana grimaced. “Don’t be silly. I’m not heartless. I only give you a hard time because you’re just so easy to rile up and, let’s face it, because I knew the television viewers would love our dynamic—and they do. This thing with you and Blake will be a one-season mystery that can’t last. The audience’s desire to see us squabble will carry over beyond the season.”