Dance With Me, Baby: A Yeah, Baby Novella by Fiona Davenport Page A

scanned the crowd again.
    I shifted and something dug into my back prompting me to look down at the source of my discomfort. It wasn’t a window; it was a door. Pushing down the handle, I stepped out into the night, the crisp fall air blowing across a rooftop terrace. I let the door swing closed behind me and walked over to a tall, metal railing. The view of the city was incredible, but it was nothing compared to what I saw when I glanced to my left.
    A small group of people in a cozy seating area, huddled around an outdoor heater, chatting and laughing. My eyes were completely fixated on a brunette with high cheekbones, almond shaped eyes, and a cupid’s bow mouth.
    She threw her head back and laughed, and I wanted to trace the graceful lines of her neck with my tongue. Her fuzzy blue sweater was formfitting and, per position, thrust her chest forward. Like many professional dancers, her tits were not large, but fuck, they were spectacular.
    As though pulled by an invisible line, I began to approach the group, my eyes trained solely on my ballerina. The rest of the group, the terrace, everything, it all faded away. At about five feet away, her head lifted and rotated in my direction. Just like before, our gazes locked, but this time, she didn’t have the performance to tear her away.
    I closed the rest of the gap and stood next to her chair, looming over her. That’s when I noticed the silence, and I broke our connection to see several pairs of eyes studying me.
    “Do you mind if I borrow this beautiful lady?” I asked lightly, making sure there was pleasant humor in my tone. I didn’t want to scare her off by betraying how desperately I wanted to simply toss her over my shoulder and run away to some place where I could keep her all to myself.
    More silence. I held my hand out to my violet-eyed girl and waited. I hoped somewhere inside her, she understood that if she accepted this gesture, she would no longer have a choice. She would be mine.
    It was the longest seconds of my life, but then she placed her hand in mine and sealed her fate. I helped her to stand and then placed my hand on the small of her back and led her away to a dark, empty corner of the roof.
    When we were hidden from the view of others, I ran out of patience and slowly lowered my mouth to hers. At first, it was a few light brushes, but it wasn’t enough, so I licked along her bottom lip, requesting entrance. She parted them immediately, earning a growl of approval from deep in my chest. My hands had found their way to her lower back, and I clenched the fabric in my fists as I pulled her body flush against mine.
    She tasted amazing, and the sound of a soft moan took my annoying erection straight to a fucking baseball bat. Damn, I wanted her. I needed privacy, a bed, and our naked skin touching.
    I finally lifted my head and smiled at the dazed expression on her face. “What is your name, my beautiful ballerina?”
    “Juliette,” she whispered. “Juliette Moureaux.”
    Even her name was sexy. I ran a finger across her cupid’s bow. “Juliette,” I repeated, loving the way her name rolled off of my tongue. “I’m Declan McGowan.”
    I kissed her again, unable to stop myself, and when I was on the very brink of losing it and fucking her against the wall, I tore my lips away. Looking deeply into her eyes, I decided to take a leap. Going slow wasn’t my style. When I wanted something, I went after it, full speed ahead. She might as well learn that about me from the get-go.
    “Come home with me,” I demanded, careful to keep my voice gentle but firm.
    She pursed her lips, which was insanely adorable, and only made my desire for her grow. Her expression tinged with worry, and I knew I wasn’t going to be happy about whatever she said next.
    “I’ve never done something like that. I’m so tempted, Declan, you have no idea, but—”
    “Good,” I interrupted her, not the least interested in what she had to say after “but.” I started to