“Something like this?” Devin asked as he lifted my right leg up until my ankle met his shoulder, toes pointed. Keeping one hand on my thigh, the other on my waist, he lifted me into the air until my knee was in line with his shoulder and I could bend it into a sharp angle, my other leg straight down below me. He spun me in time with the music.
“Definitely like that,” Cole agreed.
“Only maybe bend your other knee to match,” Tanya suggested.
We tried it again, making the changes that had been presented to us. I watched what we were doing in the mirrors, amazed at the images we were creating and how they lined up with the music, the lyrics. They were right. It was so perfect that, at least for a moment, I was able to forget about the fact that I might break Devin’s back if he continued to insist on adding lift after lift to this routine.
A couple of days after Christmas, we were going to have to do our first full run-through of the entire show, so there wasn’t much time left. Before that could happen, we needed to finalize this particular part of the routine, so there wasn’t a lot of time left. Somehow, it didn’t feel stressful, though—only invigorating and exciting. The adrenaline rush of an upcoming performance was starting to seep through every part of me.
On Christmas Eve, Tanya headed out of town to Eugene so she could spend Christmas with her parents and siblings. She offered to leave the keys to the building with me so that Devin and I could practice on Christmas Day if we wanted, but we turned her offer down, opting to use the makeshift studio in Keith’s house instead. In fact, after we finished up practicing his piece at Rose City, he followed us back to Keith’s place for a while that night. We didn’t end up working on the piece for his show any more than we already had that day, though. Instead, we listened to the track we would choreograph for The End of All Things over and over and over again, until it felt almost as though the drumbeat was in tune with our heartbeats, everything lining up together in perfect synchronization. It was called “Night of Open Spaces.”
“I’m thinking rumba with this,” Devin said. The two of us were sitting cross-legged on the floor while the other three guys were upstairs in the kitchen trying to figure out what they could put together for us all to eat.
Devin was right, of course. Of all the Latin dances in my repertoire, rumba was the one that perfectly suited the rhythm and style of this particular song. But if dancing Argentine tango with him had made me nervous, rumba would only intensify that sensation. It was slow and sensual, the dance of love. That suited the lyrics, too—or at least one interpretation of them. As with many of the songs by The End of All Things, there were countless meanings the song could take on, depending on what you wanted to see within them. That was part of their genius, at least the way I saw it.
Under light of moon
It’s just me and you
No pain, now we’re free
No one here to see
Lost and found
Sight and sound
All is gone
We are one
In this night of open spaces
Empty faces
Broken lives
Can’t return to the start
Wounded heart
Darkness thrives
With lyrics like those, it could easily be interpreted as a song of two broken people coming together to complete each other with love. There was no better way to represent that through Latin ballroom than with the rumba.
“Right,” I said finally, resigning myself to the fact that I was going to have to get over myself enough to work on yet another sensual dance with Devin—this one to be recorded in video to preserve it for all the world to see. “Rumba it is, then.”
“That one’s the bedroom dance, right?”
I jumped at the sound of Keith’s voice, and I didn’t need a mirror to know I was blushing like an idiot again. He could do that to me without even trying.
“That it is,” Devin agreed, grinning at me as though he was in on a joke.
“Good.” Keith leaned against the doorjamb almost casually, but he wasn’t fooling me. “I can’t wait to see that one. But it’ll have to wait because I’m starving and dinner’s ready. Let’s eat.”
Devin helped me to my feet and then turned off the music. Without anything better to do with myself, I crossed the floor to where Keith was waiting for me. He pulled me in for a kiss, keeping his hands on my waist with such a fierce resolve that I wondered if I’d be sore when he released me. I wasn’t; I was only hungry for more of his touch.
But that was going to have to wait, too.
“Are you three coming or what?” Shane shouted down the stairs. “Cole’s so hungry he might eat one of the dogs if we don’t feed him soon.”
“No one’s eating any of my dogs,” Keith returned, laughing. He took my hand and pulled me along after him as we went up the stairs, Devin following close behind us.
“Fine,” Cole said when we came into the kitchen. “A cat, then.”
Shane winked at me, and I rolled my eyes.
“Based on how it smells in here,” I said, my stomach grumbling in response to the savory scent of burgers and homemade fries, “I have the distinct feeling that won’t be necessary.”
Everyone fixed up plates, talking over each other, laughing, and having a good time. Cole, Shane, and Devin carried their plates into the living room to camp out in front of the TV. We were apparently going to watch another Christmas special tonight. I was about to follow them when Keith put an arm around my waist and drew me in for another kiss. He lingered over it for a minute, and I reveled in the sensation of his lips against mine.
“There is a pussy I wouldn’t mind eating,” he whispered seductively in my ear, and I shivered at the memory of what his tongue could do. “Maybe for dessert?”
I tried to slow my pulse, to remember how to breathe, but it felt as though I was asking too much of myself in the attempt.
“Maybe,” I said. I met his gaze, saw the hunger there that matched my own. Then I picked up my plate and glass, and I headed in to join the others in the living room.
At least that would give me a little time to figure out if that was the right move to make, or if we were once again rushing into things. I wasn’t sure of much, but there wasn’t a doubt in my mind about this one thing: once I went to bed with Keith again, there would be no more putting on the brakes, no more opportunity to slow things down. It would be full-steam ahead and no looking back.
I had to be certain that was what I wanted.
IT WAS ALMOST midnight. Devin had left a few hours ago. Colesy and Shane had called it a night around eleven and gone upstairs, leaving me alone with Brie, my dogs, and BC.
BC was by far the more adventurous of Brie’s two cats, and yesterday he’d decided that he’d had enough of being confined when everyone was out and about. Richie was still staying hidden away in his sanctuary, but BC had struck out to explore the entire house, sneaking past Brie at one point when she’d had the door open.
Not only was he feeling his way around the place, but he’d also shown my dogs that he was the boss. Shadow and Dexter had sniffed his butt and decided to let him have his way pretty quickly, but Pepper wasn’t so sure she wanted to be bossed around by a feline. She’d tried to assert her own dominance until the little guy had hissed and growled at her, his hackles raised, and then taken a swat at her nose. He hadn’t gotten her with his claws, but he’d scared her enough with his show of dominance that she’d whimpered and scampered off to hide in plain sight on my lap, as though I would protect her from the mean kitty. This made me fairly certain that she had no earthly clue how big she was.
It also made me start thinking about what it might be like if Brie and her cats were to ever come here to stay, not only for a few days at Christmas. I was starting to think it would work out. Yes, Richie was still in hiding, at least any time that anyone else was around, but Brie swore that he always hid more than he was ever out and about. He was scared of everything, she said. My ho
use was big enough that he could find lots of good hiding places, if he got brave enough to explore and find them. If he could settle in here, there was no reason that they couldn’t all settle in.
Other than the fact that I had no idea where Brie stood on our relationship. I knew where I stood. Sometime in the last few days, I’d realized I was in love with her. It wasn’t just some passing fascination. It wasn’t simply lust. I wanted a hell of a lot more than merely getting her to come back to my bed, although I certainly wouldn’t shoot her down if she decided she was ready for that again. I supposed I’d been in love with her for a while. Why else would I have agreed to back off, when all I wanted was to take things to the next level? I wanted to be with her every moment of every day, but I had no idea when Brie was going to be willing to take our relationship up a notch.
Until now, at least.
Maybe kept floating through my head from when she’d said it earlier. I’d chewed it over, letting that single word roll around in my mind, analyzing everything about the way she’d said it and her tone of voice when the word had spilled from her lips.
Was she ready? Had I proven that I could be real with her, that I could open up to her and share my life and who I was, and not rely strictly on our physical connection as the basis for our relationship? I thought I had. But then again, I’d thought I had gone far enough toward that when I’d first told her about Garrett. That had only been enough to convince her to kiss me again.
But we’d spent hours and hours over the last few days talking about everything under the moon. I’d told her how I’d struggled with boredom during my early years in school, and the only way my parents had been able to keep me from failing and get me to actually put forth any effort was to threaten me with not being allowed to play hockey. For a while, they hadn’t been sure if I’d even graduate from high school, but I’d done well enough that I’d gone on to college.
She’d told me how the thyroid issues that had caused her weight gain had also messed up her vision, and that was why she always wore those glasses. She’d tried contacts, but she’d never been able to adjust to them—especially since her vision seemed to change far more often than was typical for someone of her age—so she’d given in and resigned herself to always wearing glasses. It was yet another thing that made her self-conscious, much like her weight. She thought they made her unattractive. I’d made a mental note when she told me that to increase my efforts to let her know how beautiful she was, as often as possible. I didn’t want her to ever doubt herself, not in any way.
Even now, as we sat in the dark, with only the soft white radiance of the Christmas tree I’d put up before the party to see by, I was amazed by her beauty. She practically glowed in this lighting, similar to the candlelight on our first date but with a softer quality. She’d allowed me to wrap my arms around her and hold her close to my side, leaning her back against my chest, and the lights bounced off her glasses and danced with every breath she took. It was intoxicating to watch her like this, to hold her in such a way.
It felt as right as anything in my life had ever felt. Probably because I was in love with her, and being able to love again, having someone to love, was something I hadn’t realized I was missing.
I didn’t want to end the moment, but that single word kept haunting my thoughts. Maybe. Should I prod her to see if her maybe had turned to a yes? I’d promised myself I would let things go at her pace, that I wouldn’t push her for more than she was ready for. But did asking count as pushing?
I hadn’t made up my mind yet what I should do when she turned her head to me and placed a kiss on my jaw.
“I have something for you,” she murmured. “A Christmas present.”
That made me feel like an ass. “I didn’t get anything for you.” I’d thought that since we were technically still just supposed to be friends right now, regardless of the fact that we weren’t really acting much like friends, a gift might be overstepping where we were in our relationship.
“You’ve been letting me stay here for days,” she said, standing up. “That’s more than enough of a gift. Besides, you’ve already given me something.”
Had I? I’d given her my heart, but I wasn’t sure she knew that yet.
She headed toward the stairs to go down, and I started to follow her, but she shook her head. “Stay there. I’ll be back in a minute.”
I sat back against the couch cushions, and BC came over to claim the warm spot Brie had just vacated. Pepper gave him the evil eye, but she didn’t move to warn him off. He circled around a few times and then plopped down beside me, purring like a Harley-Davidson. The look he tossed my direction was one of pure contentment.
Brie was gone more than a minute, and I couldn’t stop my mind from racing, trying to figure out what she intended to give me. The only thing I wanted was her, all of her—in my bed, in my life—but if that was what I was getting, she wouldn’t be downstairs while I was sitting here surrounded by our pets. Would she?
Just when I thought I wouldn’t be able to sit still and wait for her even one minute longer, she reappeared at the top of the stairs. She’d changed out of her clothes, and her hair was loose around her shoulders, and she had on a black satin robe that was belted around her waist and fell slightly over her knees. It showed off her shapely calves, hugged her curvy hips, and gave me the most perfect peek at her cleavage. She had something in one hand that she was taking care to hide behind her.
I’d bought her that robe, along with the nightgown she’d worn the other night, and about a dozen other things. My thoughts went from zero to sixty in about a half-second flat, wondering what she had on underneath the robe, if anything.
She stood there, her nerves apparently so erratic that I could see the rapid rise and fall of her breasts with each shuddering breath she took. My mouth went dry, my jaw slack. I wanted her more than I wanted my heart to keep beating, but she’d frozen in place when she reached the top of the stairs and she hadn’t moved a muscle since.
Everything in me was screaming to cross over to her and undo her the belt, to pick her up in my arms and carry her up the stairs so I could make love to her, but I stayed right where I was, forcing myself to do nothing more than take her in.
She licked her lips and looked away, her gaze heading toward the stairs going up—the stairs closest to my bedroom. “I, um…” When she looked at me again, her face was pink, but her gaze was direct. “Will you take me upstairs so I can show you your present?”
That was all the invitation I needed. “I thought you’d never ask.” I crossed over to her in a heartbeat, putting one arm around her waist and guiding her up the stairs and into my bedroom so fast that we were both breathless. Granted, we were already out of breath before we’d started moving, but that was beside the point.
I closed the door, desperate to get my hands on her, but when I reached for her she put a hand against my chest and shook her head.
“Not yet. Sit over there.” She nodded in the direction of an armchair near the window.
The torture wasn’t yet at an end, then. I groaned, but I took a seat.
She set whatever was in her hand down on the bed, but I had no clue what it was. I couldn’t look at it. My eyes were only for Brie.
She came around to the same side of the bed as I was on, leaning back against it while she slowly undid the belt. Her robe dropped open, and my breath caught when I saw her underneath it. She’d put on one of the baby-doll nighties I’d bought her, some sort of soft, red fabric with a loose skirt that swayed with her movements and a fitted bodice that cupped her breasts in exactly the way I wanted to. The skirt fell just high enough for me to get a peek of black satin panty.
My tongue felt thick, and I had to sit on my hands to keep myself in place.
When she took a step away from the bed, the satin fabric of the robe dropped off her shoulders. The material swished to the floor at her feet. She held my gaze for a moment, but then she bent down to pick it up, turning slightly so I had a view
of her ass. The nightie shifted to reveal her panty was a thong—a thin strip of fabric between those gorgeous cheeks I was dying to get my hands on.
Brie straightened and set the robe on the foot of the bed. Then she reached for the item that she’d carried in. She opened the pull ties of a silky black bag, and she pulled a vibrator out of it, her face as red as I’d ever seen it.
“You, um…” She shrugged, but then her eyes flickered up to meet mine again. “You asked if you could watch sometime. Do you still want to do that?”
Hell to the fucking yes, and even more if she was going to let me touch her when she was done. I settled for nodding because I didn’t trust my voice.
She took a few breaths, setting the little bag on my nightstand and seemingly working up her nerves. Then she hooked her thumbs in the waistband of her panties and lowered them, slowly, incredibly slowly, down her legs. She stepped out of them, toed them away, and sat on the edge of the bed.
Her breaths were heavy, fast, steady. She hadn’t even touched herself yet, but the skin of her chest and shoulders was already flushed and covered with a light sheen of perspiration. She was incredibly turned on, maybe as turned on as I was.
“I’ve never done anything like this before,” Brie said. “Well, I’ve— Just never with anyone watching, I mean.”
“Don’t be nervous.” I was nervous enough for the both of us. Maybe not nervous. Excited. Filled with anticipation. So damn ready.
“I’m not—” She cut herself off. “Okay, I’m nervous.”
“You have nothing to be nervous about. You’re beautiful. I love— I love watching you come.” I’d almost said I loved her. I needed to tell her soon, but not yet. This was about her starting to find that confidence in herself that she’d been sorely lacking. I didn’t want to steal anything from that moment, didn’t want to make it about something else. Telling her I loved her could wait.
She nodded a couple of times. Then she looked behind her at the bed. “Do you want— Should I—”
In the Zone (Portland Storm 5) Page 24