Dancing in the Dark

by T. L. Martin

  Another nod.

  “Good girl.”

  When the child looks back at me with curious eyes, Katerina’s gaze follows. The woman smiles, and it makes my skin burn with rage.

  I grit my teeth but don’t shy away. I stare her down. Katerina moves toward me almost gracefully, her steps soft. When she reaches my cage, she stops and slides a finger down the bars, until her nail traces over my knuckle. I almost snatch my hand away but manage to hold my ground as a growl rumbles up my throat.

  Her smile widens, and she angles her head, her eyes roaming along every inch of my face. “This one here, my sweet girl, is our pretty, pretty pet.”

  The anger in my blood boils until it hurts. My heart races in my chest, my breaths heavy in the still air. I shift my gaze to the small girl, and for the first time, I think I see fear flicker in her eyes. I’m not sure if it’s from her mom’s words or the livid expression on my face, but I’m glad to see it.

  Fear means maybe she isn’t entirely unfazed after all. Maybe there’s still hope for her.

  “In art, some pieces take a little more time to bring out the most vulnerable parts of them,” Katerina murmurs, still tracing the angles of my face with her eyes. “But then all the best things take time, don’t they? He’ll be ready, eventually. The process cannot be rushed.”

  A muscle in my jaw ticks. I know what Katerina means by that. She wants me to cry, to beg, like the others. She wants to see my fear. In her mind, fear is art, and without it, she has nothing.

  What she doesn’t understand is that I’m not afraid of death.

  In this room, I almost look forward to it.

  “Watch me. I will go to my own sun.

  And if I am burned by its fire, I will fly on scorched wings.”

  —Segovia Amil

  Sometimes I believe I was born with my soul split straight down the middle. Each half of me is a different person. With different feelings, different reactions, different impulses. The worst part about it is the edges dividing me are so frayed I don’t think I’ll ever be able to sew them back together. Into a person who functions like everyone else. Into a person who makes sense, like everyone else.

  Mama would say it’s because I belong to the devil.

  Frankie would say I am exactly as I’m meant to be.

  I’m not so sure either of them would be wrong. And that might be what worries me most.

  Long nails brush my shoulder blades as Stella buttons my dress. “Are you certain, Emmy?” Her voice bounces off my bathroom walls.

  I nod and lift my hair off my neck so she can adjust my scarf. I keep my eyes on the movements of her hands. The gold material tightens around my throat when she pulls it into a neat knot at one side. Such an elegant collar.

  “Yes.”

  She watches my reflection in the mirror before us. “It would be perfectly all right to take the rest of the day off after a morning as eventful as yours. It is already evening, after all. So long as your master doesn’t call on you, it’s acceptable, even recommended, to take a break.” She glances downward, to the spot below my ankle where I wrapped a fresh bandage around the first-degree burn.

  I’ve been Raife’s servant for less than twenty-four hours. If today is anything to go by, I’m going to need to change my approach. I can’t expect him to lower his walls if all he sees in me is someone he wants to make suffer. I might never be able to get him to look at me the way he does Stella, but even a small fraction of that could be useful in gaining his trust, getting him to reveal things he wouldn’t otherwise.

  Finally, I shake my head. I can’t allow myself to back out.

  I’m well aware that Raife got to me with the stunt he pulled this morning. Seven hours later and I still haven’t quite bounced back. A strange hollowness rooted itself in my gut when I was chained to the chandelier, and the feeling is steadily seeping into my nerve endings even now. But the numbness that spread to my fingers this morning has disappeared, which means my body works just fine. I don’t need to be present mentally to seduce someone.

  “I’m fine,” I say faintly. “I’d like to see him.”

  After a pause, she squeezes my upper arms and her face lights up. She whispers, “Well, he does enjoy surprises.”

  Raife’s voice is quiet, muffled by the wall dividing us. Maybe he’s on the phone. What does a guy like Raife do when a secretary interrupts him? Does it please him to see one of us, or does it anger him? I slow my pace behind Stella as she comes to a stop at a door that’s been left cracked open. She lifts her hand and knocks softly.

  A throat clears. “What is it?” Raife barks. His tone makes the tiny hairs on the back of my neck stand up.

  “Master, it’s Stella.” She looks over her shoulder at me. “I’ve brought a surprise for you.”

  A murmur too low for me to understand seeps through the cracked door, then he calls, “Come in.”

  Stella enters. I wait in the doorway, watching her glide across the dark office and approach Raife. I don’t know how she’s always so calm and put together, but I can’t imagine her being any other way.

  Raife sits alone behind a large desk. Blackout curtains to his right block the daylight, leaving his features almost as shadowed as the rest of the room. A small lamp behind him highlights the serious look on his sharp features, an expression that softens only when Stella reaches his side. She bends forward and runs her fingers down his cheek as she whispers something in his ear. She starts to straighten before he grabs her by her ponytail and tugs her back down. I can’t hear what he says, but I see him lick—or bite—her neck before he releases her.

  When Stella straightens, she readjusts the hem of her dress and turns to me, her pink cheeks and coy smile illuminated by the lamp. She heads my way then nods and winks as she walks past me and down the hallway, the same direction we came.

  I keep my eyes on her as her silhouette disappears around a corner, and then on the empty space in her wake. I know I’m up, it’s time to make my move, but my neck is suddenly stiff and my heels are glued to the marble.

  “Well, don’t be shy, love,” Raife says quietly. “I hope you didn’t stop by just to waste my time.”

  My head snaps toward him of its own accord. Something about his voice, his words, grates on me.

  No, I didn’t come here to waste anyone’s time. I’m not so sure Frankie has time to waste. And there’s nothing to be shy about when it’s not me I need to offer this man, but my body.

  My lips curve, though I know my eyes reflect the hollowness still eating away at me. I take one step into his office and close the door. As I take another step, I reach behind my back and begin to leisurely unbutton my dress.

  “Shy?” I murmur with another step. “Not at all.” By the time I reach Raife, all the buttons are undone. My dress slips to the floor, revealing the black lace bustier I discovered in my closet, paired with a matching G-string and sheer thigh-high stockings. Not my style, but I figured the outfit was in my room for a reason.

  Raife leans back in his chair, his eyebrows raised and a smirk pulling on the corners of his mouth.

  After rounding the desk, I slip between his legs and sit on his left thigh, then lean in and whisper, “Unless you want me to be.” My voice is sultry despite feeling nothing at his nearness. No desire, no racing heart, not even fear.

  I run my hand down his silky tie then let my fingers wander lower until I’m massaging his length through his suit pants.

  He lets out a half-groan, half-chuckle, and glances over my shoulder. My brows knit as he continues to stare past me, amusement darkening his expression. Just when I turn to see what he’s looking at, a yelp escapes my throat as he swiftly pulls me in so I’m straddling him. Unease twists my gut, but I cover it up with a slow half-smile.

  I don’t know what I was expecting, but it wasn’t this. Based on his treatment of me so far, I thought I’d at least have to work a little harder to get this kind of attention from him.

  As I lower my lips to his neck and gl
ide the tip of my tongue up to his ear, he moans, and my mind whirls at his reaction. It’s the first sign he’s given that I might actually be able to pull this off. I might be able to walk out of here tonight with Raife Matthews seeing me as someone to desire. As someone he could potentially loosen up around and maybe even invite into his bedroom—one room in the house I’m willing to bet has no cameras. What better place to hide your secrets?

  His breath fans across my ear, cool and minty, as he asks a little too loudly, “Would you be willing to do anything for me then?”

  I squeeze my eyes shut, images of this morning flashing through my head. Pulling his earlobe between my teeth, I bring my fingers to his tie and begin to loosen it. “Anything you wan—”

  Pain surges through my scalp as my head’s yanked back. One hand grips my waist, and then I’m spun around. His hard dick digs into my ass, and my back is against his chest.

  My breaths come out fast and short. I try to adjust my eyes to the new view of his office.

  The only lamp in the room is now behind me, and it’s small enough to leave everything before me a disorienting sea of black and grey. As pieces of furniture take shape, I mentally store each closed drawer away in case I ever find myself in this room alone with time to snoop. It’s not until my eyes flick to the right that another, larger, form slowly takes shape as well. I squint while Raife’s cold hand runs down the side of my waist then curves around my hip. He dips his fingers beneath the fabric of my G-string, but I’m more focused on the person I now see sitting diagonally from me, in the far right corner.

  My heart thumps against my ribcage.

  Everything around me goes still as I take him in. The thick dark hair almost falling in his face. His set jaw. Broad shoulders. His hand resting on the chair’s armrest. I watch with bated breaths as his fingers steadily go up, down, up, down.

  Tap, tap, tap.

  A thick swallow passes through my dry throat. I came here prepared for Raife Matthews.

  Not his brother.

  I squeeze Raife’s suit sleeves when two long, thin fingers are shoved painfully inside me. Fuck. An ache swells between my legs. Raife’s soft, raspy chuckle echoes in my left ear, and the tapping across the room stops. Heavy silence rings in the air for a long, drawn-out moment.

  Raife fingers are still inside me, unmoving, when he calls, “I’ll make you a deal.”

  It’s clear he’s not speaking to me, so I keep my mouth shut and my legs spread. Just how he likes it, I assume.

  “A deal.” Adam’s deep, smooth voice slides past my ears and burns low in my stomach, causing me to clench around Raife’s fingers. My heart pounds faster. “I’m listening.”

  Raife’s free hand teases the bottom of my bustier. “I might be willing to meet you in the middle on Murphy.” He inches higher, higher, until he’s stroking the curve of my left breast. “Perhaps.”

  When Raife doesn’t elaborate and instead cups my breast, then gradually glides his fingers in and out of me, Adam’s hand slowly curls into a fist. His gaze finds mine, and he runs his tongue along his bottom lip, then tilts his chin. I pull my own lip between my teeth to keep from squirming as an unexpected tremor flutters between my thighs. Raife pumps faster, but Adam’s eyes are locked on mine, holding me captive until all I see, all I feel, is him. The tension rolls off his body in waves. Electric waves that send a warm jolt through me every time Raife’s fingers slide inside me.

  Impatience drips from Adam’s voice, and somehow it only makes me clench tighter. “The goddamn deal, Raife.”

  My breaths shorten, and I let my head fall back against the curve of Raife’s shoulder if only to free myself from Adam’s hold. A cold feeling tries to work its way into my gut—unease, guilt, confusion. It’s okay to feel pleasure, I remind myself. It’s a necessity to get Raife where I need him. It doesn’t matter who it’s from—which brother, or how, as long as Raife thinks he’s the one who turns me on.

  There’s no way Raife’s going to get an orgasm out of me, not after what he did to me this morning—what I can only guess he might have done to Frankie. But I can’t help the ripples of pleasure that tease me when his brother is mere feet away, his presence a live wire beneath my skin. His voice, deep and masculine, warming my insides. His eyes piercing mine so intensely it’s like he’d go blind if he looked away.

  Raife’s response slices through my thoughts. “You finish this with my lovely hire, and we’ll meet halfway.”

  My head snaps up, and my pulse spikes. What?

  Adam doesn’t hesitate. “No.”

  The material of my G-string pinches my skin when Raife’s hand disappears, then I’m forced to my feet. I wince when he clasps my wrists together behind my back with one hand and shoves my shoulder blades with the other until my nose almost touches his desk.

  “Come again?” Raife asks.

  I manage to angle my head in time to see Adam stand and take a few steps toward us. It’s not until then that I notice papers in his left hand. “No deal,” Adam says. “It’s all in or nothing.” His gaze drifts to mine, and a muscle in his jaw ticks. “I don’t do anything halfway.”

  A warm thrill vibrates down my back, making me shiver. I’m the first to look away.

  Adam closes the distance between us and tosses the papers onto Raife’s desk, just a few feet from my face. I narrow my eyes, but it’s too dark to make out the small words.

  “Like I said, Felix and I drew out a detailed plan. Put on your big boy pants and read it from top to bottom. Then we’ll talk.”

  He turns to leave when Raife firmly says, “Let me prove she wants you, then I’ll read the fucking thing.”

  My entire body stiffens. Apparently so does Adam’s because his footfalls halt.

  Raife lets out an annoyed sigh and adds, “Top to bottom, three times over, cherry on top, whatever. Take it or leave it, but I’m not reading a word without this deal.”

  Adam says nothing, though he does turn around. He dips his hands in his pockets and narrows his eyes at Raife before flicking them to me.

  “She wasn’t wet for me,” Raife continues, as though I’m not standing right here, bent half-naked over his desk. I swallow as his words reverberate in my head. I really thought I had him fooled. “She was practically dripping whenever you opened your pretty mouth.” He snickers from behind me, and I realize he’s not upset. In typical Raife fashion, his tone is darkly amused, even devious.

  A flicker passes through Adam’s eyes so briefly I would have missed it if he wasn’t consuming every fiber of my attention. “Is that so.” It comes out like a statement, his gaze burning a hole straight through my skin. Finally, he turns back to Raife, and a breath pours from my lungs. “Sounds like your problem. Not mine.”

  “Problem?” Raife barks out a laugh. His hold around my wrists loosens as he removes one hand to glance at his watch. “I want to see how right I am about this one.” His fingertips dig into my skin, and he presses me hard against the table until my cheek is on the smooth wood. My chest tightens when I realize what he’s asking, and my breaths come out in pants. “If you can get her to finish in the next five minutes before my client pulls up out front, I’ll read every page of your shitty plan. I’ll even discuss it with Felix when I get back. But if you can’t . . .” His voice fades, and he inches the papers toward the trash bin with his free hand.

  My eyes fall shut. I can’t let Adam Matthews bring me to the edge. Not in front of Raife, not when it’s Raife I need to somehow convince I want more than the others.

  I can’t.

  When I finally open my eyes, Adam’s polished black shoes are moving closer. Every part of my body buzzes to life at the thought of his warm, strong hands on me, and I know I’m screwed if he takes this deal. My only hope is that he’ll refuse and walk away. He takes another step, then another, and a swarm of butterflies jumps from my stomach to my throat.

  “Five minutes,” he murmurs. A simmering heat pulses between my legs at the throaty rasp now coating his low
voice. My gaze follows his hands as he pulls them from his pockets, unbuttons his cuff, and pushes his sleeve up. “Deal.”

  “I need someone who sees the fire in my eyes

  and wants to play with it.”

  —Unknown

  My cheek is pressed against the cold surface of the desk, but my insides are on fire. I don’t know how I’m going to pull this off, just that I have to. I can’t risk Raife turning me away before I get answers, and I have no reason to believe he’ll keep me around if he doesn’t buy into my desire for him. After inhaling deeply, I wiggle against Raife’s hold, trying to stand, but he keeps me in place.

  “You’re wrong,” I finally say, avoiding Adam’s gaze. “It’s not him I want. It’s you.”

  “Oh, love,” Raife says on a breathy laugh. He releases me and steps back, then grins and clasps his hands together like an excited teenager. “Guess we’re about to find out, aren’t we?”

  My arms fall forward, and I grip the edge of the desk, but I don’t straighten. God, I don’t trust my body not to betray me while Adam is to my left, close enough to feel the heat radiating off him. To see his shirt strain against his broad shoulders when he raises a hand and flicks open the top buttons hinting at his sculpted chest. To swallow down his clean, masculine scent each time I inhale.

  I’m screwed.

  “Stand up and look at me.” Adam’s voice is quiet but commanding. The kind of tone you want to obey.

  I swallow hard, then push off the desk and stand. My gaze is on the floor for a long moment, the thump of my heart ringing in my ears, before I lift my chin and look right at Adam. His blue irises are darker than usual, like an ashy black. It’s so dark that if I look close enough, I can almost see my soul reflected in them—secretive. Immoral. Sinful.