Dancing was my job, and I loved it. However, acting was as much an element of my routine as dancing. When I was onstage, I was playing the part of a big beautiful woman who was secure with her body. Offstage, I was just another woman with self-esteem problems.

Stone’s wet mouth left a circular damp spot on the front of my blouse when he abandoned my . . . for my lips. He kissed me deeply with the hard, slow kisses to which I had already become accustomed in such a short period of time. I was reasonably sure that I would measure the kisses of all future lovers against Stone’s and find them lacking.

My hands traveled of their own accord. They explored the sides of his face, the thickness of his shoulders and the muscles of his powerful arms. My hands ventured lowered. They caressed his chest. It felt exactly the way I had expected.

I dragged my fingertips down the hard slope of his taut belly until they rested on his waist. Then I reversed their direction, pushing his t-shirt upward to reveal his sculpted abs. My desire for him suddenly became overwhelmed by my own feelings of inadequacy. I have never had flat abs. My legs were thick and strong. My arms were toned, but my belly was decidedly soft. I let the fabric of his shirt fall back down to cover his perfection.

Stone sensed my hesitation. With one smooth move, he hooked a hand into the hem of his shirt and pulled it over his head.