His Ballerina

by Darcy Rose

  Is he for real? This sort of thing doesn’t happen in real life. Movies? Sure. But I’m not a prostitute, and this isn’t Pretty Woman.

  I wasn’t born yesterday, either. “What do you expect in return?”

  “Nothing,” he says without hesitating, without blinking, without pausing to take a breath. “I only want you. That’s enough.”

  “You can’t mean that.”

  His eyes narrow as he laughs. It’s tight, not exactly uplifting. “I never say anything I don’t mean.”

  But he can’t mean it. He can’t be serious. No, this is a ploy—a trick. Granted, it’s a lot of work to go through for the sake of a trick, but still. I can believe that more easily than I can believe he means a word he’s saying.

  He lowers his brow. “You look like you don’t believe me.”

  My mouth works, but nothing comes out, mostly because I don’t know what to say. All I can do is point to myself with my eyes wide. Me? You want me?

  He nods, chuckling, and I have to say it’s nice to hear that. He sounds more human. Less intimidating. “Yeah, you. Why’s that so hard to understand?”

  “How much time do you have?”

  When he stretches out on his side, propping himself up on one elbow, I can’t help but notice his body. I’d have to be blind not to. Some of the guys at the gym could take a lesson from him. “For you? All the time in the world.”

  I don’t know what to say as he stares at me, expectant like he’s waiting for me to list all the reasons why I’m not the girl this sort of thing happens to. Good thing the sound of the front door opening interrupts us.

  Archer jumps to his feet, and I follow him out to the hall as two men walk in, and for a second, I think this is it. We’re done for. They are here to either arrest or kill Archer and maybe me simply because I’m here.

  My fear scatters away when Archer only snickers at the sight of the men. “What are you doing here?” he asks while folding his arms over his chest.

  They’re twins, obviously, practically mirror images. And then I notice how they both look like Archer: tall, dark hair, finely chiseled faces to go with their chiseled bodies. Dark eyes, too, and now the twins have started looking me up and down. I’m wearing Archer’s clothes, completely covered in enough fabric to make a dress if I wanted to, but I feel exposed.

  “Whoa.” One of them points at me like he’s never seen a girl before. “You’re serious?”

  “What’s she doing here?” the other one asks with a smirk.

  Did he tell them about me? The girl who witnessed the hit? Why else would they be so surprised?

  The first one answers that question before I have to ask it. “Since when do you let girls in the sanctuary? This has to be a first, right?”

  Archer’s scowling when he looks my way. “Madison, my brothers. Kane and Cash.” He doesn’t specify who’s who, though they nod in turn when he says their names. They’re both looking at me like I’m a rare museum exhibit, anyway, so I can’t bring myself to care which of them is which right now.

  “Madison, huh?” Kane snickers. “What’d you do to earn access to Archer’s place?”

  Archer steps in while I stammer, putting himself between the twins and me. “She didn’t have to do anything, and you’d better watch your mouth.”

  Kane holds his hands up, palms out. “Hey, hey, no offense. Just busting your balls, little brother.”

  “Yeah, don’t get all defensive.” Cash cranes his neck to see me, looking around Archer. There’s a gleam in his eye and a smile teasing the corners of his mouth. Like he’s trying to hold back laughter.

  Honestly? I don’t hate knowing this is unusual for Archer. That he doesn’t have random girls up here all the time. That’s the last thing I want to be—another notch in his headboard or whatever.

  I still wish I could understand why he’s doing this and what it all means.

  “She’s better than that.” Archer looks at me over his shoulder. “She’s different. And she’s here to stay, so you’d better start learning how to talk to her. Not like she’s some random piece of ass. Got it?”

  He wasn’t talking to me, but I end up gulping and blushing, anyway.

  Here to stay. He’s so sure of himself.

  Am I so sure, though?

  8

  Archer

  “I’ll be right back. Hang out in here for a little while, okay?” I want to discuss things with the twins that Madison doesn’t need to hear—besides, I know they won’t leave without grilling me over her.

  I love my brothers, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t a real pain in the ass sometimes.

  Once the bedroom door’s closed, they descend on me like vultures. “Who is she? What’s she really here for? Does she know who you are? Who we are?”

  I’m not playing that game. They might be the older brothers, but I’m not a kid who gets pushed around. “One thing at a time, okay? Why are you walking in here uninvited?”

  “Ever consider we might be checking on you because we’re worried? You went radio silent after you took out that—”

  “Yeah, I know.” I don’t need the guilt trip, either. “I told Ace shit came up.”

  Cash’s lips twitch. “No, kidding. Now we know what.” When I shoot him a warning look, he manages to straighten out his expression. But just a little. “Sorry.”

  “No, you’re not.”

  “Listen. We’re not here to fuck around.” Kane’s brows draw together. “There’s been talk out there. Dissatisfaction in the ranks, like Dad used to say. Bruno’s crew isn’t gonna stop with convincing a few low-level numbers guys to skim off the top.”

  “They want to shake things from the ground up,” Cash explains. “Make our foundation unstable and watch the whole thing crumble.”

  “Once word spread about Trent going missing,” we all exchange a look, since we know he’s a lot worse than missing, “the chatter got louder. They know we’re onto them trying to sabotage our numbers business and eventually take it over. I’m sure they know Trent’s in a landfill or the river by now.”

  “Good for them.” My lip curls in a sneer. “If they were smart, they’d back the fuck off. Next time, it might end up being one of their guys in the river instead of one of ours.”

  “Smarts aren’t what Bruno’s crew is known for, though.” Cash sits on the arm of the sofa, shrugging. “They respond to action. Especially that Deke bastard, Bruno’s cousin.”

  His second-in-command. Word has it, he performed his first hit when he was ten years old and never looked back. He likes killing. He gets off on it.

  “I’ll keep an eye out for him. For all of them,” I add when my brothers frown. “You don’t have to hold my hand. I’ve been looking out for myself for a long time now.”

  “Yeah, but you never had a girl hanging out in your bedroom.” Cash’s grin is back. “So, who is she?”

  I’m not getting out of this without giving them some sort of answer. I know that.

  I also know I can’t tell the whole story. “She’s somebody you’ll be seeing for the rest of your lives. We crossed paths a couple of nights ago, and she’ll be living with me now. I can’t let her go back to the shithole she’s been living in. It’s a miracle she made it out of there alive.”

  They know it’s a waste of time to keep hounding me. “Fine, whatever. Enjoy.” I have to pretend I don’t notice the smirk they exchange on their way out the door. Like they know something I don’t.

  Let them think they do. Let them smirk and snicker about me. It doesn’t matter. What matters is the girl in my room, waiting for me.

  She’s still there, sitting on the bed where I left her. Like she’s afraid to move. I don’t know if I love her shyness or hate that she feels like she has to be shy. “Come on.” I peel off my shirt and toss it aside. “Let’s take a shower.”

  “What?” She clutches the blankets like they’ll protect her from me.

  “A shower. You know, water comes down, gets you all wet?” Her chee
ks go even darker pink than before. “What did I tell you? You have nothing to be afraid of. I need a shower, and I hate showering alone.”

  When I hold out a hand, she places hers on top of it. I lead her to the bathroom before she can ask any more questions and turn on the water. By the time I’m out of my shorts, there’s steam billowing behind the glass door.

  She’s slower than me. Hesitant, while I’m fighting to keep from tearing her clothes off. The last thing I want is to scare her worse, but by God, she’s testing the limits of my self-control.

  Finally, she turns her back and drops her pants, then takes off the T-shirt. I feast my eyes on the body I could only imagine when she wore her leotard. The full hips, the tight peach of an ass. Slim legs, toned, she’s so beautiful it makes my chest ache—not to mention my cock, standing straight up and practically begging to slide into something hot and wet.

  “Madison. Let me see you.” It’s not a request. It’s a command. “Get in here with me.”

  She does, her eyes on the tile floor. I gulp at the sight of her full, perky tits, pink nipples tight. I lick my lips. “You’re gorgeous.”

  “Stop.” She shakes her head, hair hanging over the sides of her face.

  “You’ll believe me. I’ll make you believe me.” I reach for her, pulling her under the spray. “Let me touch you.”

  She doesn’t fight me, letting me soap up my hands before sliding them over her slick skin. Gently at first, warming her up. Testing the weight of her tits, their firmness, letting my thumbs stray over her nipples until she leans in, silently begging for more.

  “Aren’t you going to wash?” she whispers with a catch in her voice, eyes half-lidded.

  “You do it for me.” I hold out the soap and squirt some on her palms, then groan at the tentative touch of her hands on my chest.

  She’s not shy for long. Her breath quickens as her hands slide down my abs, brushing my straining cock. “Fuck.” It’s a groan, a plea, a prayer. I can’t take much more of this. I have to be inside her.

  “Did I hurt you?”

  Her innocence makes my eyes fly open, and for a second, I forget how desperately I’m burning for her. “No, baby. You didn’t hurt me.” I take her hand and place it on my cock, groaning again when her slick fingers close around the shaft and slowly work their way up its length. I might come here and now, I’m so close. All because she’s touching me.

  Her slender fingers wrap around my throbbing dick a little tighter, and the smallest whimper falls from her lip. That’s all it takes for me to come undone. My orgasm crashes into me like a tidal wave threatening to pull me under. Ropes of sticky cum shoot from my cock and paint the title wall.

  Even before the last bit of my release ripples through me, I know that this isn’t enough. I need more, so much more, all she can give me. I’m greedy for her. Starving.

  My cock never even softens as I quickly rinse us both and turn off the water. Rather than dry off, I step out of the stall with her and lift her in my arms, carrying her to the bedroom and lowering her to the bed as gently as I can manage.

  There she is. Looking up at me with want in her eyes, the way her tongue moistens her lips makes me want to take them. I need those lips. I need all of her.

  My tongue darts over them before plunging into her mouth; she whimpers her approval, fingers threading through my hair, her body straining upward to meet mine. “So fucking beautiful,” I manage to say between kisses, tasting her throat, licking the hollow above her collarbone, taking her tits in my hands, and rolling my tongue over those pink peaks.

  “Archer…” Her head rolls from side to side, wet hair fanned out around her. Lost in pleasure, undone a little more with every lap of my tongue, every scrape of my teeth over her sensitive skin.

  More, more, I need more. Every taste only makes my appetite grow, my absolute, soul-shattering need for her. To own her, to make her mine and only mine. To make her beg me. “I could devour you,” I rasp against the smooth skin of her stomach, noting the quivering muscles, the goosebumps that rise.

  “D-do it. Please.” She lifts her hips off the bed. Offering her sweetness, her heat, the juices glistening on her bare lips. “Please, Archer. Make me…” She can’t bring herself to say it, but it doesn’t matter.

  And when I run my tongue up the length of her slit, she comes, screaming before I can indulge myself. My cock strains and drips, and I know I can’t wait. I’ve waited long enough. I have to be inside her. I’ll die if I’m not inside her.

  I push her thighs apart with my knees, rough, greedy, before positioning my cock at her dripping entrance. My eyes close the instant before I roll my hips forward, pushing into her, not stopping until I’m balls deep.

  And she gasps. Goes stiff. Her nails dig into my shoulders. I open my eyes and find her biting her lip, tears on her lashes.

  Is she…

  I don’t get the thought out before she squirms against me, and that little bit of friction urges me on. I’m too far gone now, enveloped in her tightness, and I pull back only to push forward again.

  She grunts softly, jaw clenched tight. My lips skim that jaw before I whisper in her ear. “Be patient. It’ll feel good soon. I promise.” When she nods, I know I’m right. I just took her virginity.

  And damn if that doesn’t make fresh need surge up in me, pushing me further, driving myself as deep as I can into her tunnel, grunting her name with every thrust. And before long, she’s moaning in time with my grunts, locking her legs around my waist, drawing me deeper still until I don’t know where I end and she begins. There’s nothing in the world but this—us.

  “This is what I was made for.” I wait until she’s looking up into my eyes, flushed and dazed, rocking under me every time our bodies slap together. “You. Burying myself in you. Making you clench around my cock, making you milk me dry. And you were meant for this. To be mine. Say it.” Another thrust. Another.

  She whimpers before crying out in a raspy voice. “I was meant for this!”

  “To be mine.” Thrust. “Always mine.” Thrust.

  “Yes. Yours. Oh, my god!” I make sure to grind the base of my cock against her clit because I want her to come again while I’m inside her. She lets out a howl, raking her nails over my back. “Archer, yes. Yes!”

  “That’s right, baby. Come for me. Scream my name while you come.” I have to hold on, hold back, and make her explode around me before I let go.

  It doesn’t take long. She grips my shoulders tight enough to dance on the line between pleasure and pain before howling one last time, my name ripping through the air before she falls back with a broken sob, and I roar out my own release. It’s ecstasy beyond anything I’ve ever known, ever dreamed of.

  And even as I’m slipping out of her quivering, dripping pussy, I can’t wait to have her again.

  But not yet. Not until we get something straight. I roll onto my side, pulling her trembling body into my arms. “Why didn’t you tell me you’ve never done that before?”

  Her face goes red an instant before she turns it away. “You didn’t ask.”

  I take her chin in my hand, turning her face back to me. “I didn’t think I had to. I expected you would say something. I would’ve been gentler with you if I had known you were a virgin.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Damn it, don’t apologize.” I don’t know why this is making my chest tighten the way it is. Why I’m angry.

  She flinches but doesn’t say anything. There’s pain in her eyes, though. I hate myself for putting it there. “You don’t have to apologize,” I tell her again, softer this time. “I want you to speak up for yourself. You don’t have to stay quiet when there’s something you want or need. And if we’re in my bed, naked, and I’m between your legs? Tell me if I’m hurting you because, Madison, I can’t control myself when it comes to you. I just can’t.”

  She snuggles up against my chest with nothing but a soft sigh, and that’s good. This is where she belongs.

  With
me. Her first and only. I have to admit, knowing I was her first makes my cock stir all over again. She’ll never know what it means to go unsatisfied because I intend to wear that tight little pussy out every day for the rest of our lives. I’ll be the only man she ever knows. My cock will be the only one she ever sucks. And my name will be the only one she ever screams as she comes over and over.

  God, I can’t wait.

  9

  Madison

  What am I thinking?

  That’s the question I keep asking myself as I lie here in Archer’s arms, drifting in and out of sleep as the day continues outside the window. For once, I don’t care. I’m not in a hurry. I’m not thinking about my next shift or my tips. Just this. Only this.

  What am I doing here? What am I thinking, giving my virginity to somebody I barely know? Somebody who, honestly, still sort of scares me a little.

  Much less than before, though. There are two sides to him. The violent side I saw when we first met—no way I can forget about that, not a chance.

  But there’s another side. A softer side. Gentle. Protective. Nobody’s ever wanted to protect me before. Nobody’s ever asked for nothing but me. Yet that’s all he wants. At least, that’s what he says.

  I never say anything I don’t mean. I think I want him to mean it when he says he only wants me, nothing more. Even if I don’t quite understand how that’s possible. What’s so special about me? Nothing.

  Yet here he is. Here I am with his heart beating under my ear.

  “Can I ask you something?” He’s been quiet for so long, his voice makes me jump.

  “Sure.”

  “How’d you end up where you were? Living that way, working so hard?”

  Past tense. He’s serious about wanting me to move on from the life he found me living. I still don’t know how to feel about that. For now, I’ll answer as truthfully as I can. “I lost my parents when I was little. I don’t remember them very much. I spent the rest of my life in foster care, going from one home to another, never staying long enough to actually bond with someone. I aged out of the system when I turned eighteen. You’ve seen the rest.”