As usual, she lost herself in the dance, fell into the music and the steps. Quick and slow, fouettés, pirouettes, jetés, it all flowed through her, these things she’d been doing over and over like a ritual since childhood.

When she finished, totally elated, knees a bit sore but feeling good, he was there in the doorway. She’d missed him more than she’d allowed herself to think about. Talking on the phone and waving hello here and there wasn’t the same as being alone with him.

“I can never quite put into words, after I see you dance, just how beautiful it is. How beautiful you are. The stuff you do blows me away.”

“Today I’m feeling distinctly not bad for an old woman.” She looked up into his face, liking the curve of his lips. It was still there, that whatever they had between them. “I’ve missed you.” It cost her a bit of pride to say it, but Brody was worth it.

He moved to her, pulling her into a hug. “Me too. I need to kiss you” was all she heard before his lips brushed against hers softly and then more boldly as she reached up to twine her arms around his neck, arching her body against his.

“Mmm. That’s nice,” she murmured as he kissed along her shoulder.

“Tell me you don’t have to go anywhere.”

“I have a little while before I need to go home. Wait here.” She grabbed her keys and ran down the stairs to lock up. She didn’t have any more classes that day, but she didn’t want anyone else walking in.

Her hands shook as the need for him began to take over, making her rush to get back to him.

Brody wasn’t sure what had happened. He’d headed to her studio after not touching her for three weeks. He needed to see her, to talk to her alone. The phone calls had been all their busy schedules had allowed, but he needed more and he could admit it. After that night where she’d revealed so much of herself on his porch, he’d been overwhelmed by how much she made him feel like protecting and taking care of her. He felt a lot more for her than he’d ever planned to, and he needed some distance to work it through. As he’d rolled out of bed that morning, he knew he’d been a dumbass for not seeking her out. Knew he needed her in his life and accepted it.

He needed her companionship. Missed the spot she filled in his life. He wanted to take a walk down to the Market or something, maybe grab a drink or a coffee, then he’d come to the top of those steps to find her dancing.

The look on her face when she’d stopped, so much joy. And the joy hadn’t fallen away when she caught sight of him, easing a knot he’d been carrying since that night on his porch. Suddenly he wanted her then, hard and fast.

When she got back from locking the door, he pulled her to him as they stood at the top of the stairs leading down to the door. The kiss was a wild recipe of tongues and teeth, of sighs and entreaty as hands shoved and pulled at clothing to remove it or, in his case, get it out of the way so he could get to her best parts. Each bit of her exposed to his touch as he removed clothing called to him. Called for a taste, a kiss, a caress. And so he did.

Dropping to his knees, yanking at her bottom half, he thanked heaven above she was wearing leggings rather than tights. He made quick work of them, pulling them off over the ridiculously hot and yet totally complicated toe shoes whose removal would waste time. Time he’d prefer to spend inside her.

She grabbed the railing, holding fast to keep from falling over faint at how good his mouth felt, hot and wet, against her inner thigh.

“Here. I want you here.”

As if she’d argue. But he still had his jeans on, they were only unzipped. His shirt was off, and she looked down as his mouth found another place she liked too. The firebird marking his back looked extra sexy as she looked from this angle, with his head, those thick, dark curls of his, bent over, his mouth on her pu**y like a starving man’s.

She tumbled into orgasm quicker than she’d expected to, but she wasn’t about to argue with her body. There was only so much masturbating one could engage in with parents and a small child under her roof. Not that her fingers or any toy felt this good.

“There now,” he murmured, petting her thighs, “the edge is off. On your knees facing away from me, gorgeous. On this step here.” He patted the step and she moved to obey, even as her muscles felt like warm goo. Happily, she noted the removal of his jeans before she turned around and braced her hands on the top step.

The sound of the condom wrapper tearing open made her gasp with joy, and they laughed together at her response. “I know, I want it too. It’s all I’ve been thinking about for so long.” She rested her forehead against her arm for just a moment until she felt the slippery pressure of his c**k at her entrance, pushing to get inside.

A gasping moan trickled from her as she arched her back and he slid into her fully.

So good, so f**king good he nearly lost his mind with it. He wanted to rut on her, cover her with his body, his scent, until all she felt, saw, smelled, was him. Her body fit around him so tight and inferno-hot, pleasure clawed at his gut, pulled him into her body, and he never wanted to leave.

Sex with Elise wasn’t just fun, it was the most intensely pleasurable experience he’d ever had. Every time he touched her, he wanted her again, until need made him blind. Not having her for three weeks had nearly driven him insane.

But what got to him so deeply right then was the sense of home he felt when he was with her. The empty or sharp spots inside him were soothed as well as excited just because she existed. No one had that kind of effect on him but her. He’d missed it, missed her. And thank God she’d missed him too.