Pointe Noire (The Noire House Book 1)

by Lacie Thorne

“Sam?” Her voice was fucking hoarse. “Will you please stay for a while?”

  The last thing I wanted to do was leave her. And besides, she’d had her first real taste of BDSM. No way was I leaving her after that. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Emily

  The shuffling must have been what had woken me. I opened my eyes to find Sam buckling his belt around his narrow hips, chest gloriously bared. A smile tugged at my lips as I shifted onto my side, muscles tender. “You’re leaving?”

  He glanced up, fingers still at his belt, and gave me a wicked grin. “I didn’t mean to wake you.” Sam walked over to the bed and pressed one palm into the pillow beside my head. “Do you have any idea how adorable you are when you’re asleep?”

  I frowned at him, mentally cringing. “Adorable?” What grown woman wanted to be called adorable by the man she lusted after the way I did Sam? After he’d miraculously made me come again and done insane things to my body only a few hours earlier? The after affects still smarting every time I moved.

  His laughter vibrated against my lips as he kissed me with the softest kiss since we’d entered my home. “Yes, adorable. I think that’s the only way to describe the little mewling sounds that left these sweet lips.”

  “Oh, my God.”

  I ducked my head in utter embarrassment, but Sam wouldn’t allow me to retreat. He slipped his free hand around the back of my neck, holding me so I was forced to meet his gaze.

  “Don’t ever be embarrassed, Emily. There is absolutely nothing you need to be ashamed about. Ever.” His grip tightened, his eyes suddenly dark and serious. “Do you understand?”

  I nodded, even though I suspected we both thought about Garret in those short, quiet moments before he spoke again.

  “Your words, Emily. I want you to say you understand. I might not always enforce that rule, but right now you need to say it. Okay?”

  I swallowed against the lump in my throat, the faint burn left by Sam’s erection. “I understand.”

  “No embarrassment.”

  I nodded, then thought better of it and repeated the words back to him. His features visibly relaxed, and he leaned in to kiss me again, tongue thrusting into my mouth and setting me on fire. I moaned, trying to get closer. Sam growled and broke away too soon, and I tried to follow his mouth.

  “Your lips are so fucking swollen and tempting, but I have to go.” His hand tightened around my neck before he released me.

  “You don’t have to,” I said as he straightened to his full height. “Besides, how do you plan to get home without a car?”

  He walked over to where his shirt lay on my bedroom floor and picked it up, slipping it on as he spoke. “I’ve got my ways. And I can’t stay, no matter how much I want to. I have someone waiting for me back home.”

  My heart fell right through my feet, and my veins turned to ice in the seconds before he glanced over at me. He must have read my thoughts because he rushed over, shirt hanging open as he took my face between both his palms.

  “A dog, Emily. I have a dog, and he gets really antsy if I don’t come home.” His thumbs stroked my cheeks as I processed the words. “I know that seems like a lame excuse, but I just moved here from New York. He hasn’t settled in yet.”

  I nodded, though a fog still clouded most of my brain. “What’s his name?”

  A smile curled Sam’s lips in secret amusement. “Blue.”

  “Blue? That’s an odd name for a dog.”

  His smile still in place, he asked, “What would you suggest? Fluffy or Butch?”

  I laughed, the remnants of tension from moments ago leaving me. Sam had that affect on me, somehow able to calm me one minute and drive me wild the next.

  “You could always come home with me.”

  His words shocked me and no doubt that too was written all over my face. While I might have been offering for him to stay the night, I wasn’t sure I was ready to go home with him. Besides, it was late and—

  “I have a matinee early tomorrow.”

  A furrow grew between his brows. “I shouldn’t have kept you awake so late. Why didn’t you tell me?”

  I shook my head. “It’s fine. We’re doing one last run of Le Petit Prince for a bunch of children. If I mess up, they won’t know the difference.”

  I meant it as a joke and laughed even as Sam scowled as he finished dressing, and I enjoyed watching his muscles move as he did. I was surrounded by finely sculpted bodies on a daily basis and yet none of them had ever affected me the way Sam’s did. He was gorgeous. On so many different levels.

  When he was dressed, looking—mostly—as he had when we arrived at my home, he leaned down and kissed me again, nipping at my lips and then soothing the sting with gentle strokes of his tongue.

  “I’ll see you in a few hours.” He pressed his thumb to my lips when I frowned, about to remind him that I’d be at the theatre, dancing the part of the rose. “I have a meeting with your boss.”

  “Martin?”

  He smiled. “Yeah, he and I go way back, and I promised I’d stop by tomorrow—uh, technically later today.”

  I wasn’t sure how to feel about that so I blanked my expression and hoped that was appropriate.

  “Relax, Emily. Martin’s probably heard about my reason for coming back to Nola. I’d also be concerned about my prized dancer.” He kissed me again, but my attention had drifted elsewhere. Of course Sam tugged at my bottom lip with his teeth to draw my focus. With a groan, he pulled back.

  “You have a show in the evening?” He didn’t seem at all surprised by my nod. “But you’re off on Sunday?”

  “Yeah, I usually have lunch with Garret though.”

  This time it was his turn to nod. “How about dinner?” Sam smiled as I beamed up at him, too much excitement flowing through my body. “I’ll text you the address.”

  “I can’t wait.”

  “Me either.” He leaned in to place a brief kiss to my lips. “I’m assuming you have Mondays off as well?”

  “Technically, but I tend to join in for morning class.”

  Sam laughed and shook his head. “Of course you do. Well, could you skip a class? I’d like you to stay over so we can discuss our arrangement.”

  The term arrangement did funny things to my insides—and not in a good way. Still, I wanted to explore this with Sam, so I nodded and assured him no one would miss me on Monday. He kissed me again, his hand drifting to my neck to squeeze my tender throat as he did. It was fast and hard and over much too soon.

  “Sam?” I stopped him as he headed for the doorway.

  “Yeah?”

  I hesitated long enough to draw a serious frown from him. “What are we going to do about Garret?”

  His face fell, shoulders slumping as he blew out a deep breath. “I don’t know yet.”

  I threw a blanket around my shoulders and walked Sam to my front door. When I reached to open it for him, he grabbed my waist and pressed me up against it instead. He ripped the blanket off, and palmed my thighs, wrapping them around his hips as my shoulder blades hit the door. He kissed me harder than ever, tongue and teeth working to drive me into a frenzy. His hands were everywhere, pinching my sensitive nipples one moment, then slapping the underside of my ass the next. All the while his hips rocked into the cradle between my legs, and I swore I’d come even with his clothes between us.

  Not even two hours ago I’d been ready to say goodbye to him right on this very spot. Now I was sandwiched between him and the door, totally smitten with him after the best night of my life. When he finally broke the kiss, I could barely breathe. I sagged against the wooden door long after he’d left. It wasn’t until I shivered from the cold air on my skin that I was able to pull myself away and head back to bed. There wasn’t much time for sleep, but I was intent on getting every second I could before I had to be at the theatre.

  ***

  One screeching alarm and the world’s fastest shower later, I was dressed and rushing off to
work. The whole drive to the theatre I was distracted. Memories of the night before played in my mind, the things Sam did to my body and the way I reacted. I shifted on my sore ass, kind of disturbed that I liked how my cheeks still stung. That my throat was a little raw, and my nipples and lips extra sensitive.

  I wondered if I’d see Sam before or after the show. Of course, I also wondered what he and Martin would talk about, suspecting I might be one of the topics. But I couldn’t be sure, and besides, Sam said they went way back. I told myself I was being self-involved assuming I had anything to do with their meeting. It might even be coffee between two old friends. Entirely unrelated to work or ballet.

  My thoughts moved to the background as I fell into step with my fellow dancers. After plastering my face in layers of make-up, with extra thick concealer over my neck again to hide Sam’s marks, I pulled my hair back into a tight bun. I slipped into the deep red tutu with matching pointe shoes and waited in the wings.

  The production was beautiful, one of my personal favorites choreographed by our company. When my cue came, I danced my part as the prince’s rose, my gaze sweeping across the sea of children in the seats.

  Some of the other dancers did these matinees with a heavy heart, finding it less fulfilling than dancing for adults. But I loved it. Maybe that was because my own love of the art had come from seeing a show at a very young age. For a dancer, I’d started late, but my drive and passion had made up for my delayed start.

  When the show was done, I returned to my tiny dressing room to strip off the costume and stage make-up. Part of me hoped Sam might be waiting there for me, but he wasn’t. There was, however, a red rose on my dressing table along with a handwritten note.

  Petit fleur,

  When you’re less rose-like, come find me in Martin’s office.

  SR

  I pressed my lips together, mashing the bright red lipstick against my skin. I’d expected something more romantic from him after the night we’d shared, but how could I complain? We weren’t in a relationship. This was an arrangement. Nothing more.

  As instructed, I cleaned up—careful to keep the faint bruises on my neck concealed—and dressed in my rehearsal gear before heading to Martin’s office. When I arrived, the door stood ajar. Sam sprawled on the seat opposite Martin, the two laughing like old friends.

  “Ah, Emily. Please come in and take a seat.” Martin waved a weathered hand. “I’ve spoken to Antoine, so he knows you may be late to rehearsals.”

  I smiled and edged closer, avoiding Sam’s face even as I sat two feet from him. My hip brushed his elbow, and a jolt of electricity shot through my nerve endings at the simple touch.

  “I understand you are familiar with Mr. Roche?”

  “Mr. Roche?” Sam chuckled and shook his head.

  I caught the motion out the corner of my eye but didn’t dare turn to look at Sam. “Yes, Martin. I’ve read articles about Sam—Mr. Roche. And I believe he and Garret are old friends.” It was the simple answer and true enough for this purpose. I only regretted saying Garret’s name, given my arrangement with Sam.

  Martin smiled. “As are we. Sam started here in this very company, many years ago. Before he left to join one in New York.”

  I nodded. Of course I knew the Samuel Roche had started in this little company. I’d read it in the articles, but as far as I knew, he hadn’t stayed long before he ventured to New York to better his career. What I didn’t know was how it related to me.

  “Emily, I suspect Garret mentioned Mr. Roche is looking to start his own company here in Nola. He shouldn’t have, of course, since it’s not public knowledge yet, but we all know how Mr. Lacroix can be. Especially where you are concerned.”

  Martin chuckled, but the mention of Garret had affected Sam and me, a tension connecting us.

  “Anyway.” Martin cleared his throat, hopefully oblivious to our rigid postures. “Sam has indicated an interest in you.”

  My eyes widened, my mind slammed with images of the night before, but of course that was not what Martin meant. He continued, not even fazed by my expression which I tried my damnedest to keep blank.

  “In your eye and expertise,” Martin clarified. “And he’s requested you accompany him as he scouts the local talent.”

  My wide-eyed stare turned into a frown. “Excuse me?”

  “He saw you dance at last night’s gala and—”

  “I’d like a second opinion—your opinion—as I search for dancers to invite into my company,” Sam explained. “With the skill you displayed last night, I suspect you’ll have a keen eye for the dancers I’m looking for. And as a bonus, you’ll know where to find the local talent.”

  I stared at Sam and the calm, easy expression he reflected back at me.

  “As a request to an old friend,” Martin said. “He asked my permission to steal you away one night a week.”

  “But—but we just started the season. Not a week ago you said no one else could handle the role of Christine.”

  Martin nodded, tight lines forming around his lips. Over the years I’d come to know that tell all too well. He wasn’t happy about this. In fact, it stressed him, yet there he sat across from me, explaining the situation. “In exchange for your time, Sam has agreed to choreograph next season’s production. I’ve been trying to persuade him to guest choreograph for years, but he’s never had the time to part with New York. The hype will generate a lot of attention for the company, Emily. Surely you must understand what that means for us.”

  In a daze, I nodded. Yes, I understood. The company had been under financial strain recently, despite Garret’s generous donations. Hype would likely draw investors, which would go a long way in saving the future of the entire company. But at the same time, I had questions. “And who will fill in for me on the night I’m with Sam?”

  Martin sighed. “We will have to make do with Constance. She is a fine dancer, Emily.” With a smile and a wink, Martin leaned forward. “She’s merely mortal and not an Emily Charles.”

  I ducked my head as tears began to well in my eyes. “Is this—is it because of my injury?”

  “What?” Martin asked. “Heaven’s no, dear girl.”

  I swiped at the tears escaping my eyes, trying to believe Martin’s words. They were too high-pitched and spoken in a rush. One word played on loop in my brain, a word every dancer feared. Retirement. If I were honest with myself, I’d known this was coming after I spent several months in recovery. Of course, I’d brushed it off and pretended I would continue dancing into my thirties.

  Now I was barely twenty-five with the threat of retirement hanging over my head.

  More tears fell, and I tried to catch them before either man noticed. Yet another foolish attempt. A warm hand enveloped mine, and I turned to find Sam staring at me with sympathy in his deep brown eyes.

  “This wasn’t meant to be a bad thing, Emily. Martin and I are doing each other a favor. If you don’t want to—”

  “No, it’s not that—I mean, I’m not—” I took a deep breath. “Yes, I’d like to help.”

  Sam’s eyes narrowed, but it was Martin who spoke. “Excellent. Emily, you will take Tuesday nights off until further notice. I expect you to attend Tuesday morning classes, however, you may skip afternoon rehearsals.”

  I nodded, though another question burned on the tip of my tongue. Martin knew me as well as I knew him, and he told me to spit it out.

  “We were due to begin work on next season’s production this week. Are we still—I mean is Sam going to choreograph Alice in Wonderland or a different show?”

  Martin shrugged. “To be determined at Sam’s discretion. Though he needs to decide rather quickly.”

  With a glare directed at Sam, Martin ended our meeting. I fled his office and rushed towards the stage where the other dancers would be rehearsing tonight’s performance of Phantom of the Opera.

  “Emily, wait.”

  I ignored Sam’s hiss behind me, intent on making it to rehearsals as close to on tim
e as possible. He didn’t let me, reaching out to grab my wrist and draw me to a halt. I avoided his gaze even as he tried to make eye contact.

  “I was serious in there.” His thumb stroked my hand, but I fixed my gaze on the center of his chest. “This isn’t meant to be a bad thing.”

  “Really? You don’t think I know why Martin agreed to this?” I huffed and turned to leave, but Sam moved fast, blocking my path. “I’m not talking about this here and now, Sam. I need to get to rehearsals.”

  “Will you at least look at me before you run off?”

  I forced my gaze to his, wishing my eyes weren’t bloodshot and threatening to spill more tears at any moment. When he reached for me, I stepped back, dodging his touch, and shook my head.

  He sighed and nodded, but the creases between his brows told me he wasn’t thrilled. “Tomorrow night?”

  I hesitated a few seconds, but despite my current mood, and my annoyance with him, I really did want dinner with Sam. “Audubon Park at six.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Emily

  My fear of forced early retirement had clouded my other concerns when Martin told me that he was loaning me out to Sam. As the hours of rehearsals and performance ticked by, a nagging thought tugged at the edge of my mind. By the time I arrived home late that night, I was angry and by the following morning—and a distinct lack of sleep—I was furious.

  It was in this intense state of rage that I met Garret for our usual Sunday lunch.

  “Oh, no, what happened?”

  Of course he would notice my bad mood. The man knew me better than anyone. I shook my head and sat opposite him at our favorite café. Within seconds, a waitress set a café au lait in front of me, Garret no doubt ordering my coffee in anticipation of my arrival.

  “I’m going to take a guess and say this has something to do with Sam.”

  I eyed him from under my lashes. “You know what he did?”

  Garret shrugged. “He might have mentioned something.” A beat of silence filled the air as he took a sip of his own coffee. “Martin also called to let me know you’d be absent from Tuesday performances, but mostly he wanted to tell me about the change in next season.”