the Dance

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the Dance Page 4

by Alison G. Bailey


  “Don’t I make you happy?”

  I turned, facing him. “Yes you make me happy. It’s not about us. It’s about me. I’ve never had a passion for anything.”

  Will teasingly cocked his brow, making light of what I was saying.

  I slapped his chest, annoyed. “I’m not joking. Maybe it is a phase. I don’t know. I just don’t understand why I can’t take a class or two and see what happens.”

  “Because you taking time away from us to chase a hobby was not the agreement.”

  From all our years together I knew it was pointless to continue this discussion. Will was stubborn and once he made up his mind that was that.

  Will leaned down and nibbled along my jaw as his hands slipped under my shirt. My body stiffened as I gave him a slight shove.

  “I’m not in the mood.”

  He continued nibbling, ignoring my mood. “I thought you weren’t mad.”

  “I need to put the food away and clean the kitchen,” I said, dodging his advances, and turned back toward the dishwasher.

  Placing his hands on either side of me, Will gripped the edge of the countertop and rubbed his already hard dick against my ass. The thin material of his sweatpants and my yoga pants were flimsy barriers.

  “Will, knock it off. I have stuff to do.”

  He brushed my hair to the side and lowered his lips to the nape of my neck. “Keep doing what you’re doing.”

  Heat radiated throughout my body as my bad mood shifted. I felt incredibly sexy, confident, and powerful knowing I was the only one who affected Will this way. Exciting him to the point of no control. Tilting my head to the side, I wiggled my ass, pushing into his erection. A deep moan rumbled from his chest, causing goosebumps to cover my skin.

  “Give me a minute to put the food away and I’ll meet you in the bedroom.”

  “No. I want to fuck you right here and now,” he mumbled against my hot skin.

  “In the kitchen?”

  “Mmmhmm.” His hand slipped under my tank top and traveled up my stomach to my chest.

  “What about my couscous?”

  While one of his hands massaged my breast, Will slid his other hand into my yoga pants and between my legs. I squirmed trying for some friction.

  “I love eating your couscous,” he said, flicking his index finger over my clit.

  Reaching around, I grabbed his hips, and pulled him in closer.

  I was getting lost in the moment when suddenly Will ripped my bra down and pinched my nipple hard.

  “Ouch!” I yelled.

  His voice was husky and low. “Oops.”

  “It’s okay. It just surprised me.”

  He roughly peeled off my tank and flung it to the side. Will wasted no time in unclasping my bra. I twisted around to face him, needing to put my lips on his body. He stopped me abruptly, spinning me back to face the counter.

  His fingers wrapped around my wrist and he placed my hands on the edge of the sink. “Hold on tight.”

  “Are you sure you want to do this in here?”

  The palm of his hand came down hard on the left side of my ass.

  “Will!” I yelped.

  “Stop talking and just go with it.”

  “Don’t hit me so hard.”

  Will and I always had a good sex life. I mean, I had nothing to compare it too but it felt pretty good. We were fairly adventurous, having had sex in his car, in my car, and in one of the empty student apartments at college. Like most couples, the sex shifted in intensity. Sometimes it was gentle while other times it was more passionate. Me, being half naked, bent over in the kitchen, was definitely out of the box for us.

  My grip tightened with the jostling of my body as Will yanked down my yoga pants and panties at the same time.

  “Stick your ass out more.” He commanded.

  “Will, what are you doing? This is crazy.”

  “Shut up!”

  “Hey, watch it!”

  “Just do what I say, Bryson.”

  I jumped slightly when the tip of his tongue touched the back of my knee. Will’s lips licked and sucked up my thigh. My knees buckled as he sunk his teeth into my ass cheek.

  “Will, that hurts!”

  “It made you soaking wet, though,” he mumbled against my lower back.

  “What’s gotten into you?”

  I felt the heat and weight of his body pressed against my back. Reaching around he plunged two fingers inside me, causing my body to convulse. He pumped in and out of me three times before withdrawing his fingers. I felt the back of Will’s hand run over my ass.

  “Your pussy juice is all over my dick. It’s so fucking hard and ready to fuck you in the ass.” His hot breath coating my neck and shoulders.

  I wasn’t a huge fan of dirty talk. Maybe if it were mixed with sweet romantic words I could get on board with it. I knew the point of it was to make things even hotter but it usually made me cringe. Will seemed to be spurred on by the crudeness. For that reason alone, I tried my hand at talking dirty but never quite got the hang of it, so I kept quiet.

  A rush of cool air snapped at my skin as Will’s body heat disappeared. My next awareness was the sensation of him entering me from behind. His fingers dug into my hips while he pounded into me hard and fast. Throaty grunts and moans surrounded us. Every nerve ending in my body was lit on fire. My heart pounded against my chest wall. Just as I was about to climax, Will grabbed a fistful of my hair and yanked.

  “You’re a fucking slut, aren’t you?!” He yelled.

  I didn’t respond, my head spinning with sensation and discomfort.

  His hand twisted in my hair, tightening his hold. “Say you’re a fucking slut!”

  I hesitated. Maybe it was some of the residual effects of the earlier disappointment but a detached feeling washed over me. It wasn’t the first time this had happened. Over the years Will and I went through phases. Most of the time I felt our hearts were connected. But there had been instances, like right now, in which I felt more like an object than his partner. I knew he liked dirty talk and I could go along with it for his sake until I felt degraded.

  My head snapped back slightly as he tugged. “Say it, goddammit!”

  “I’m a slut,” I whispered, tears forming in my eyes.

  I clenched around Will, causing him to spasm out of control. My body wanted to climax but his words kept swirling in my head. Two more quick jerks and his sweaty body collapsed on top of me.

  Placing gentle kisses between my shoulder blades, Will said, “That was incredible.”

  Before I was able to form words, he withdrew, and stepped away. Suddenly I was freezing, confused, and left hanging. I stayed in position, waiting, and wondering what the hell just happened. I dropped my head, peeking underneath my arm. I was alone, naked, and unsatisfied. After a few seconds I heard the door to the bathroom shut and the shower turn on.

  Neither Will nor I brought up what took place in the kitchen that night. After his shower, he went straight to sleep. And I went straight into the bathroom to spend a little quality time with the showerhead. The next morning, he acted normal, not upset or mad. We both went about our days as usual. Even though things went back to normal I couldn’t shake the thoughts or weird feeling the night had left in me.

  “How about after lunch we catch a chick flick? Man of Steel is playing at The Terrace,” Sophie said as we walked across the parking lot on the way to yoga class.

  The Terrace was a small local retro movie theater that played mostly artsy and old classic films. Occasionally, they’d throw in a new movie. And when I say new, I mean made within the last decade.

  “Man of Steel isn’t a chick flick.”

  “Maybe not but I’d sure like that Henry Cavill to flick my chick with his man of steel.” Sophie glanced over for my reaction. “See what I did there?” Raising her eyebrows and smiling.

  Pursing my lips, I simply shook my head and rolled my eyes, trying not to encourage her.

  “While I’d love nothing mo
re than to watch you drool for two hours, I can’t. I’m meeting with my mutha-in-law at three.”

  “Dum. Dum. Dum.” Ominous music.

  “She’s not that bad.” I paused. “She can be overbearing. And controlling. And nosey. And fake. But other than that she’s an absolute delight to be around.”

  It was Sophie’s turn to purse, shake, and roll. “So, what are you and Witchy Poo up to today?”

  “As part of Forsyth wife training, I need to champion a cause . . .”

  “Her cause.”

  I adjusted the strap of my yoga mat on my shoulder. “She’s part of some ladies charity that’s having some kind of fundraiser to raise money for something at one of the hospitals.”

  “Wow, you’ve really got the details of that nailed down.”

  “If I knew Will’s mother genuinely cared and wasn’t doing it all for show, I’d get onboard.”

  Sophie opened the door to the yoga studio and motioned for me to go ahead of her.

  “So is married life still blissfully happy?” she asked, as we entered the classroom.

  Getting girl time in with my best friend had become increasingly more difficult over the past year. Not only because I got married but because Sophie’s job had her traveling a lot. She had taken the position as a project manager at Google. The job required her to travel to lands far and wide several times a year. It was a rare treat that we were able to attend class together.

  We walked over to our regular spot. I set my bag and mat down, shrugging my shoulders in response to her question.

  Unrolling her mat, Sophie ordered. “Talk to me.”

  “There’s nothing to talk about. Will and I are doing great as always.”

  “Then what’s with the shrugging shoulders?”

  I sat down on my mat, extending my legs out in front of me. I reached my arms forward, stretching my back. “It’s nothing really. We just had a little disagreement the other night.”

  Sophie plopped beside me. “About what?”

  A few people drifted into the room, one of them being Adele Tannenbaum. Adele was an older woman, in her sixties. Her hair was streaked in varying shades of gray, her face lined with years of living, but her body was sick. I suspected that she’d been doing yoga since its inception. She was a nice enough lady but nosey as hell. She was always trying to find out which instructors were sleeping with clients, who had face lifts and boob jobs. Most of us had carved out a usual spot in class. Not Adele. She liked to change it up, choosing a different area each class in hopes that some fresh juicy gossip would come her way. Today Adele was fishing in my pond.

  “Nothing really. It was stupid,” I said, keeping my voice low.

  “Bryson, you’re the most transparent person I know. I can tell by just looking at you it’s not nothing. Spill.” Sophie ordered.

  I glanced over my shoulder to make sure Adele was out of earshot.

  Leaning closer to Sophie, I said in a low voice, “I floated the idea of taking a couple of cooking classes by Will. He wasn’t exactly a fan of the idea.”

  “Of course he wasn’t. It would take two seconds away from him.” Sarcasm coated Sophie’s words.

  “Will is just old-fashioned. Plus, he knows things are going to get crazy busy with the house being built and we are planning on starting a family soon.”

  “So what’s the problem?”

  “After he put the kibosh on the classes, he disappeared into his office. I thought he was pissed off. You know how when we were in school and had a fight, I wouldn’t hear from him for a couple of days. Then he’d come back with his sad pouty routine?”

  “Yeah and no matter what you’d always forgive him.”

  A light tap on my shoulder stopped the conversation.

  Adele was looking down at me with a fake innocent smile on her face. “Hey girls. I don’t mean to interrupt. I’m going to get a towel. Do either of you need one?”

  In unison Sophie and I looked down at our towels beside us.

  “No, ma’am. We’re good,” I said, returning her syrupy sweet smile.

  As Adele walked away, Sophie muttered, “She’s such a sneaky biotch. Continue.”

  “So he goes into his office. A little while later he comes back into the kitchen while I’m cleaning up after dinner. He comes up behind me and starts touching me. One thing led to another and before I knew it, I’m butt naked in the kitchen.”

  “Shut up!”

  I popped Sophie hard on the upper arm. “Shhh . . .”

  “Sorry.”

  My cheeks heated. “It was kind of hot at first. Then he said some things.”

  “What things?”

  “He wanted me to say I was a fucking slut while he, you know, came in the backdoor.”

  Sophie stared blankly at me, not saying a word.

  “Then after he got his jollies, he left me and went to take a shower. Didn’t talk to me for the rest of the night.”

  Sophie raised her index finger. “One second.” She shifted to the side looking over my shoulder. “Did you get that Mrs. Tannenbaum? She had anal in the kitchen.”

  My head whipped around and spotted an expressionless pale-faced Adele. I could see the word skank floating in her eyes.

  I looked back at Sophie, panicked. “Sophie!”

  “Don’t worry. She doesn’t know what that is.”

  “She knows what an anus is.”

  “Good morning, everyone. Let’s start with a warm-up,” Sandy, our yoga instructor, said.

  I got to my feet. Out the corner of my eye, I noticed Adele scooting a few inches away from me.

  After class Sophie walked me to my car. Not missing a beat, she picked up right where the conversation had left off.

  “So, you think the kitchen cockin’ was Willie’s way of showing you who’s boss?”

  I opened the driver’s side door and tossed my bag and mat across to the passenger’s seat. “I don’t know.”

  “Well, did you ask him?”

  I shook my head. “No. Neither of us have mentioned it. He’s been acting normal since then.”

  She placed her hands on my shoulders. “I think Will is a spoiled brat but I don’t think he’d use his dick as a weapon.”

  “I don’t think he would either but then I keep thinking about the slut remark.”

  “Maybe you heard him wrong.”

  “He yelled it out twice.”

  “Oh.” Her lips puckered forming a duck face.

  “It’s not the first time he’s talked to me that way while we were doing things. There was just more of a bite to his tone. It took me off guard.”

  “Maybe he was just trying it on for size, feeling you out, seeing if you liked it.”

  “Maybe.”

  “And maybe he thought you came and when he realized you didn’t, he was too embarrassed to say anything.”

  I chewed on my bottom lip, mulling over her suggestions. “Maybe. He’s an incredible guy even though he can be a pain in the ass at times.”

  “In more ways than one, apparently.” Sophie winked.

  “That was so bad.”

  “Sorry. I’m getting loopy. I need food.”

  “Well, let’s get you fed, woman. I have Chicken Piccata with fresh linguine and garlic chives waiting for you back at my place.

  “Oh, I think I just found your missing orgasm.”

  After talking to Sophie more over lunch I realized that I was probably overreacting to the incident in the kitchen. Instead of letting my imagination conjure up all sorts of crazy stuff I needed to focus on the here and now. Will and I were happy and about to embark on an exciting time with the new house and starting our family.

  “As you ladies can see the place is extraordinarily pedestrian. I propose we knock down that wall . . .” He dramatically pointed. “. . . Thereby opening up this entire space.” He swept one arm out in front of himself. “The walls will be a silky sage green with warm honey hardwood for the flooring. After me and my crew get in here to play, this will be
the most deck cafeteria in all the land,” said the skinny man in the tight electric-blue suit and red hipster beard.

  I’d spent the last hour listening to this hipster kiss the ass of my mother in-law as she soaked up every second of it. Turns out the Junior League, of which she was the current president, would be donating a sizable chunk of money from their annual Twilight Ball fundraiser toward the remodel of the Saint Francis hospital cafeteria. It seemed to be an odd choice when there were so many charities around that could have used the money to help people directly. Although this place was screaming for a makeover.

  I didn’t know if the ugliness of this cafeteria was the norm for a healthcare facility. I’d been very fortunate in my life, never having to spend any time in a hospital since the day I was born. The lighting was horrible, the walls and floor were slightly yellowed with age, and the tables and chairs looked to be on their last leg. But ever since I could remember, people raved about how incredible the food here tasted. I remember in their later years, my mama and papa would come each Friday to enjoy the cafeteria’s fried shrimp platter. By all the happy faces enjoying the food, the praise seemed well deserved.

  My gaze scanned the large area as I tried not to appear too bored. Considering the time of day, I was surprised the place was this packed. The patrons were a mix of doctors, nurses, and other badge-wearing hospital staff. There were a few scattered patients who’d ventured out of their rooms. The rest of the crowd looked to be people who were here just wanting the great food.

  “Bryson, what are your thoughts on having a water feature over in that corner?” The soft southern accent of Will’s mother drifted into my ears as she tried to include me in the project.

  “Which corner?”

  Pointing her finger, she said, “Over on the far right wall.”

  I followed her scrawny finger across the room. When my gaze hit the target a weird buzzing sensation took over my stomach. It had nothing to do with water features or spending too much time with my mother in-law and everything to do with the site of Hart Mitchell. Or some guy who looked exactly like Hart Mitchell. Oh, hell, it was Hart Mitchell. I’d know those color-changing eyes and deep dimples anywhere at any distance. I had spent my entire senior year seeking them out and one unbelievable moment staring into them. The noisy atmosphere disappeared and I got lost in Hart.

 

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