He pulls away and I start to kiss his neck. It’s not long before we’re moving, him carrying me to the stairwell and up the stairs. He gets to the top of the first flight before her asks, “What floor are you on again?”
“Third,” I respond between kisses.
He starts again, walking slower this time up the second flight. We’re at the door for the second floor and I can feel how much work this is for him to carry me. I may be thin, but I’m tall. Now that I’m not practicing ballet, I’m not a light as I used to be and it may not be as easy to carry me as it was when I was eighteen. Then again, I was way too thin back then—no tits or ass to speak of. I’ve put on some weight since my days in New York, but I much prefer the body that I have now.
By the time we get to the top of the next flight of stairs, I can tell that Will is really tired. I smile into his neck as I put my legs down on the landing. “I can walk from here,” I say, pulling away to smile at him.
“Oh, thank god,” he sighs. “I thought it’d be hot to carry you all the way to your bed, but I didn’t realize you lived up three flights of unreasonably steep stairs.”
I laugh as he heaves in a few deep breaths. “I think it might be hotter if you’re still able to breath by the time we get to my room. For my purposes, you might be a bit useless if you’ve spent all of your energy on the stairs.”
“And what exactly do you have in mind? How much energy are we talking about?” he asks, suddenly not so winded.
My center clenches at the thought of fucking him again. He may not get to me emotionally, but physically we’re a definite match. “I’ve got lots of things in mind, all of them requiring lots of energy. Hours upon hours of energy …”
I turn and take off up the stairs. He must have a boost of energy because I hear him following me. When I get to the landing, I throw the door open and turn around, grinning as I walk backward to my room. He puts his hands on my hips and presses my body back against the door. The movement isn’t slow and measured like it was in the lobby. This time his possession is rough as he attacks my mouth with his. The pressure of his body against mine makes it hard to breathe, and that breathless feeling is entirely too amazing for words. It takes my mind off of everything but the man on me right now.
“Keys,” he growls against my lips.
I put them in his hand and he opens the door, his other hand on my lower back so I don’t fall down when it flies open. He tosses me lightly onto the bed, covering me quickly with his body. My legs go around him as I lift my hips to press against him. Reaching down and unbuttoning his pants, I unzip them before pushing my hands beneath the fabric and gripping his bare ass so I can pull him closer to me. I feel his glutes flex as he grinds himself against me, and I gasp in pure, unadulterated lust.
Our kiss ends as his mouth starts to trail down my body, down my neck, and over the tops of my breasts. I’ve been waiting to get naked with him all night and I don’t think I can stand to wait another minute for him to be inside of me.
I push him away and say with a certain level of sexual urgency, “Me and you naked. Right now.”
He must hear the impatience in my voice because he stands up and starts to strip. Starting with his shirt, he reaches behind his head and pulls it off over his head by the collar. Why is it so sexy when guys take their shirt off that way?
I decide to follow his lead and take off my shirt and bra first. After my articles of clothing join his in a pile on the floor, I lift my hips to slide my shorts and panties down as he starts to pull his pants and boxer briefs down. Leaning over to my nightstand, I open the top drawer and pull out a condom, throwing it at his chest before I recline back on my bed. I put my feet flat on the surface so that my knees are open and my legs are spread wide. He’s already completely hard, tearing open the wrapper and rolling it down his length as I watch his face, his eyes wholly focused on the juncture between my thighs. His pupils dilated, his eyes looking nearly black, compltely mesmerized by me.
I slide my hand down my stomach, touching myself as he walks closer to my bed. “I’m wet for you, Will,” I confess as he stands at the foot of the bed, watching me.
His gaze shifts to my face and I smile at him, a picture of seduction and temptation. I see each breath he takes, slow and measured like he’s trying to control himself—but I don’t want him to control himself.
“I want you, Will. I want you to fuck me.” My voice hitches with lust as he watches my fingers slide inside of me. “Fuck me, Will,” I demand, letting my fingers slip out of me and moving them to my mouth, licking them clean so he can taste me on my lips.
He growls, the sound rough and feral as he pounces on me, lining himself up and entering me in one swift movement. I let out a low moan as he fills me completely, stretching me in the most wonderful way. When he starts to move, his thrusts are fast and hard, just how I want it.
We’re animals, devouring each other and fighting for dominance. He pushes into me and I press into him, my nails digging into his ass. One of his hands kneads my breast, pinching the nipple with just the right pressure and I bite his bottom lip, tugging a little harder than necessary.
Pushing him softly so he rolls over, I follow him and land on top with a leg on each side of his hips. I start to ride him, my nails raking across his chest as I grind down. I’m so close to coming, and I can tell by the way his teeth are digging into his bottom lip that he’s holding out for me.
His hand moves from my hip to my clit, rubbing circles with his thumb. And with that little touch, I break apart. Panting, moaning and screaming my release. He pumps his length into me once more before he finishes, my muscles pulsing around his cock.
Our breathing starts to come down and I lift off of him, lying next to him on my twin bed. It’s a tight fit, but it works.
Will takes a deep breath and exhales. “You’re fucking amazing. That was the most incredible sex I’ve ever had.”
My smile is lazy as I bask in the compliment. “Damn fucking straight. I’m an animal.”
“Seriously.” He chuckles.
I start to laugh at the way he sounds so pleased with that description, but he has no idea what he’s getting with me.
I’m an insatiable animal.
I just hope he can keep up with me.
***
Will can definitely keep up with me.
On Saturday morning, we go back to his place for breakfast and he comes out from his shower naked and hard. We spend the morning testing out the sturdiness of his couch.
On Sundays, I normally have lunch with Rachel. But since she’s up in LA at the art show with some of the kids from her floor, Will and I spend the day at the beach. We have to get creative, so we end up in the water in an area where there are only a few other people around. I had way more fun being quiet during sex than I thought I would.
On Monday morning before I head to class, Will wakes me up with the best jewelry a woman could ever ask for. He puts the stud back into his tongue piercing and when he goes down on me, I come twice as fast.
On Tuesday, we play with the handcuffs he keeps in his nightstand and there’s no fur on those bitches—they’re all metal. When I notice the small red marks on my wrists, I get so turned on remembering what we did earlier that I go down on him in the kitchen while he makes dinner.
On Wednesday, we actually don’t see each other, but that doesn’t stop us because we fuck over the phone.
On Thursday, we do it old school in his car at the drive-in theater.
By the time Friday rolls around, we’ve had sex of one form or another in twelve different places and twenty-six different times. And each and every one of those times the only thing I’ve felt for Will has been physical—the heart skips are nowhere to be seen. The man has an incredible effect on my body, but he has no hold over me emotionally.
It’s perfect.
***
It’s Friday night and Will is working his shift at The Grove. Rachel and I decide to spend the night in, so we’re pain
ting each other’s nails, and eating popcorn and chocolate while watching tearjerkers. And, of course, there’s the girl talk.
She tells me about Nate and I love that she finally sounds excited about a guy she’s dating. They haven’t seen each other since last Friday, but they seem to be texting a lot and getting to know each other that way. What’s most important is they both seem to be into whatever it is going on between them.
There’s just one thing that keeps bothering me. Even though Rachel is into Nate, I know she’s still head over heels for Jake. She finally talked to Jake about the kiss that he forgot. He apologized and asked if they could still be friends. I know that crushed her because she was hoping for more. The longer she avoids it, the more problems she’s going to have. Especially now that she’s seeing Nate.
Though that part is kind of my fault.
***
I wake up in my bed on Saturday morning next to a sleeping Will. He came over last night after his shift and we spent a beautiful night talking and falling more and more in love.
Yeah, right.
We spent our time fucking each other stupid until we passed out. That’s what I call a beautiful fucking night.
My muscles are a bit sore, but I have to get to the studio to teach my ballet classes. I write a quick note telling Will where I’ve gone and to let himself out when he wakes up. I’ll probably head straight to lunch with some friends after my class, so I may not be back to my room until late afternoon.
I walk the short distance to the dance studio and open the door with my key. I’m the first one there just like I am every week. I always like to take some time before the kids arrive to prepare for the week’s classes. I’ve got a group that comes in for toddler ballet before two sessions of individual ballet instruction.
I start to stretch as I go over what I’ll be teaching the little tots today. The class won’t be very strenuous, but the little girls and the one boy like to see me do “a big dance move” at the end of class. It’s so cute seeing their faces when I land my jump or complete a turn. They start clapping and laughing before they try it themselves. That’s always a favorite moment for the parents to capture on their phones. I bet they’ve got some pretty cute footage of their kids leaping across the floor.
The two girls who are coming after are going to take more of my attention. One is twelve, the other thirteen—the same age I was when I moved to New York. They’re both very talented, but the younger girl, Wendy, has talent like no one I’ve ever seen. She reminds me a lot of myself—disciplined and driven, working toward a goal she’s had her whole life.
I’ve helped her apply to be a student at The New York City Premier School of Ballet. After seeing the videos attached to her application and getting a referral from me, Claudette flew Wendy and her mom to New York last week to audition. Wendy should be hearing the decision in a few weeks. But she doesn’t have anything to worry about. She’s good enough to get the spot and a scholarship to go there. Actually, she’s better.
When I watch her dance, she makes me feel. She moves me. She dances like a goddess and I know the admitting committee will see that too. I know Wendy will become a principle dancer at a ballet company, and she will handle the prestige of the position with poise and elegance.
Just like I would have done until I let “love” get in the way.
Chapter 5
Nate and Rachel are heading to The Grove for their date tonight and they offered to drive me. They’re going to The Grove because Nate’s band is playing there tonight. Rachel doesn’t know he’s going to be performing, so when Nate texted me earlier this week asking my opinion, I told him that she’d love it. Another girl might be annoyed that her date was kind of ditching her all night in an unfamiliar bar, but she’s a musician herself. The fact that he wants Rachel to see him perform will mean a lot to her.
My phone chimes, so I jump onto my bed, reaching for my phone that is laying on my pillow. It’s from Rachel.
What do I wear tonight? What kind of place is this?
I laugh softly to myself. Rachel is a beautiful girl—absolutely gorgeous—but she can sometimes be a little timid and shy, especially when she’s with new people and in new places. For such a wonderful person, she’s so unsure of herself.
Me: Let me dress you :)
Rachel: Why don’t you just tell me what kind of clothes I should wear? Dress or jeans?
Me: Gorilla suit
Rachel: Shut up. Tell me.
Me: Birthday suit
Rachel: Seriously?
Me: Nate will LOVE it!
Rachel: Fine! You can dress me…
Me: Yay yay yay!
Rachel: Ugh. I hate you
Me: You love me!
Rachel: You’re right. I do :)
Me: See you in a few!
I smile as I think about what I should dress her in tonight. It would have been easy just to tell her to wear jeans and a cute top, but this is more fun. I grab my clothes, hair tools, make-up, and my black leather jacket for Rachel before heading to her room.
I walk down the two flights of stairs to Rachel’s floor. When I open the door to head out into the hall, I nearly run right into Jake—the guy Rachel denies she is head over heels for. The guy who denies he’s head over heels for her.
“Whoa!” he says, stepping to the side.
“Sorry. I should have opened the door a little slower.”
“You almost took me out,” Jake says with a smile on his face.
“In that case, maybe I should have opened it faster.”
“Ha-ha.” He smirks.
“Where you off to?”
“My band has a show tonight.”
“Well, break a leg!”
“Thanks!”
I walk to Rachel’s door and knock before I walk in.“Honey! I’m home!”
Rachel laughs as I drop all of my things onto her bed. “I said you could dress me, not make me over!” she says, looking at my pile of stuff.
“Most of this is for me, but I like doing your hair and make-up. Wouldn’t you just like to sit there and relax while I do all the work? You know that I never make you look bad. You look fly every time I do your hair and make-up,” I say, smiling at her.
“Fly?” she asks, laughing.
“Yes, fly.”
“Whatever … What am I wearing?”
“Tight jeans, a white shirt, and my black leather jacket with a pair of black boots. The shirt and boots you can pick, but I get approval,” I say, all business.
“You’re so funny. It’s like we’re negotiating a settlement,” Rachel says, looking at my serious face.
“Fashion is serious,” I reply, trying to keep the smile out of voice and off of my face.
“Oh stop!” she says, shoving me in the shoulder before going and sitting in her chair. “Are you doing my hair or yours first?”
We’ve done this same thing so many times that we know the routine of getting ready together. I lived in an all-girls dorm from the time I was twelve to eighteen, but I never had this. All the girls in New York were jealous of my talent and they didn’t understand my humor. They didn’t get me. And before I moved to New York, I was so busy with dance that I never had to time to really get close with someone.
Rachel knows she means a lot to me, but I don’t know that she really knows. With Rachel, I feel completely accepted. I can talk about anything, say anything, do anything and I know that she’ll love me no matter what.
And I love her too. She is my best friend. That means something to me.
So take that, stupid heart.
You can have friend love, but shut up about the other stuff.
***
“Hey there, sweet thing! Is it hot in here, or is it just you?”
Will throws his head back and laughs at my greeting as I take a seat at the bar. Nate is currently telling Rachel that his band will be performing tonight, so I came over to get drinks and talk to Will in order to give them a moment by themselves.
; Will leans over the bar to kiss me. “ Can I get you guys some drinks?”
“Just a few beers,” I say, reaching into my purse for my wallet.
“It’s on the house. Bands and invited guests drink for free. Well, bands that draw a crowd, and Second Story definitely draws a crowd.” He steps away to grab three bottles from the cooler.
I turn and look at the stage to see two guys putting down guitar cases. One is tall and muscular but lean and covered in tattoos. He has a short dark Mohawk and piercings. The other is built like a football player with broad shoulders, muscled arms, and short brown hair. Put the two of them with Nate and I can understand why they draw a crowd. Who cares what the other guys in the band look like? And who cares if they are any good? I could watch these guys stand on stage all day.
I turn back towards the bar. Will is just finishing popping the tops off of the bottles. He looks like he’ll be busy tonight, so I let him get back to work. That’s another thing that’s nice about our arrangement. He doesn’t have to worry about me getting angry at him for not paying attention to me, and I don’t have to feel hurt that he’s not making an effort. As long as after work hours his body’s attention is focused solely on me, we’re good.
I make my way back to the table that Nate and Rachel are sitting at and set the drinks down. “Since you’re playing tonight,” I gesture to Nate, “Will says the owner pays for your drinks. And since we’re with the band, we get free drinks too.” I smile as I slide a bottle to each of them.
Rachel turns to Nate. “Don’t you have to go help your band set-up all your stuff?”
“Nah, the guys said they’d handle my kit so I could spend more time wooing you.” He smiles at her.
“Well, then I should probably thank them,” she says, turning to look at the stage as my gaze moves to Nate. He’s looking at Rachel and even though he’s only known her a week, it looks like he sees something more in her—it looks like he sees a future.
In My Bed Page 5