The Virgin’s Dance_Older Man Younger Woman Romance

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The Virgin’s Dance_Older Man Younger Woman Romance Page 9

by Michelle Love


  Elliott looked around and his expression hardened. “Have you heard? Kristof’s been given carte blanche over the showcase. They’ve moved to the Metropolitan.”

  “No way.” Boh was stunned. “Really?”

  “Liz thinks a bigger venue will bring in the cash injection we need.”

  “But I thought you said …”

  “That donation was specifically for Kristof. Wonder how many city types he had to blow for that?”

  Boh didn’t know whether to laugh or gag, but she had to admit; the move to the Metropolitan would be good for her career too.

  As the ballet began, she and Pilot made their way to their box and settled in. Boh looked around the theater, gratified to see it sold out for her friend’s performance. “Rubies is the second part,” she whispered to Pilot, who put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close.

  “Do I have to concentrate for the other two parts or can we make out in those sections?” He had a wide grin on his face and she giggled.

  “Depends how you behave,” she quipped back then sighed, snuggling into his arms. “My two favorite things in the world, you and ballet. Goodnight.”

  Pilot laughed. “How long is this thing anyway?”

  Boh rolled her eyes. “So impatient. Wait and see.”

  Soon the lights went down and the performance began.

  Eugenie Radcliffe-Morgan stared unseeing at the stage. The ballet had been the one time that her demons calmed and she lost herself in the pure art of it … but now that Pilot had found himself a new model, a ballerina, Eugenie felt betrayed.

  When she’d seen them together, downstairs, in the foyer, she’d almost screamed. Instead she’d excused herself politely from her date and had gone to the restrooms. A bump of cocaine and she’d felt an icy calm descend.

  Now, she watched them, wrapped in each other in the box across from hers, and the anger was consuming. Her Pilot with a dancer whore … and goddamn if he didn’t look happy. More than happy, he looked besotted, excited … in love.

  Her date muttered something into her ear and she gave a distracted smile. He—what was his name again? Seth? Saul? —he had approached her at a brunch for a children’s charity last week and they had talked. She liked that he looked a little like Pilot and had taken him back to her apartment and fucked him. She’d even enjoyed it, especially when she closed her eyes and pretended he was Pilot.

  God, how the hell had she ever let him go? She watched him now, laughing and kissing that damn girl—he looked ten years younger.

  She looked away, sickened. Her eyes swept the other box. Ah, she saw Kristof Mendelev also watching his star dancer and her ex-husband. Kristof sensed her gaze and nodded at her. She saw the same jealousy that she felt reflected in his face. Interesting. He might be a useful ally.

  On the other hand … it had been her fling with Kristof which had finally given Pilot the courage to leave her. It had been the final straw, and as far as Eugenie was concerned, not worth it. It had taken the coked-up Kristof an age to get it up enough to fuck her, and even then, it had been a quick, disappointing coupling. He was handsome, yes, but nothing compared to Pilot. She had been trying to make Pilot jealous and not only had she failed, but she had lost him.

  She wasn’t stupid enough to think he would ever come back to her, but that didn’t mean she intended to let him go. Or end up happy and in love with another woman.

  No. Pilot Scamo would not get his happy ever after. They were just for fairy tales.

  As Grace took to the stage, Boh leaned forward and Pilot watched her face change to one of wonder. He loved that she adored her friend’s dancing so much, that there wasn’t a spitefully competitive bone in her body. He turned his attention towards the stage now. If he was honest, he had no idea what constituted a good ballet, but Boh was right when she told him to concentrate on what the dancers were doing with their bodies. Some of it was quite astonishing, and he found himself thinking of ways he could capture that movement, that flow in his camera. He still had to complete his commitment to the ballet for their publicity shots, and this ballet was helping him how to understand their bodies better.

  He stroked Boh’s back and she smiled at him. “Enjoying yourself?”

  “Always, with you.”

  She leaned into him, her eyes on the stage. “Look at her, Pilot. She’s sensational.”

  They watched Grace during the short ballet and when she took her bow, they both stood and applauded her. She saw them in the box and gave them a wave and a grin as she left the stage.

  “Whoop, whoop,” Boh said happily as they retook their seats for the final part, Diamonds. Pilot loved that she was so excited. His eyes drifted around the room, and his heart sank. Eugenie was staring at them. Seeing his scrutiny, she gave him a sarcastic wave. Pilot looked away, annoyed. Goddamn that woman; couldn’t he have one night without a reminder of her?

  “Boh?”

  She looked around at him. “Yeah, babe?”

  “How would you feel about moving in with me?”

  She blinked, obviously taken aback. “What?”

  “I’m looking for a new apartment, somewhere … new. A new life, with you. If it’s too soon, say so, and honestly, that’s fair enough. But I’d like you to consider it, if you would.”

  Boh’s eyes were a little troubled. “I will think about it, Pilot. I promise.”

  But he could tell she was a little discombobulated by his request and he couldn’t quite believe he’d made it himself. What was he thinking? They’d been dating for less than a month.

  But something in his gut told him it was right, that this was it for him. Careful now, there was a time when you thought the same thing about Genie. He gave a snort. No. He’d never felt that way about his ex-wife. Ever. Looking back now, Genie had done all the running, eventually wearing him down until he dated her, then proposing to him. He’d balked, then she’d played the oldest trick in the book—the unplanned, fictitious pregnancy. He’d been distraught when she’d “lost” it. Only after the divorce had been finalized had she told him there never was any baby. By then, all he’d felt was relief; one thing less to tie him to her.

  After the ballet ended, they had a drink with Grace and her fellow dancers, then Pilot took Boh back to his apartment. “About earlier,” he said as they walked into it, “I didn’t mean to freak you out. It’s just … put it this way. I’m looking for a new apartment, somewhere my ex-wife knows nothing about. I’d like it if you were to come with me, give me your opinion on the places, help me choose somewhere that, maybe, one day you could see yourself living too. Whether that’s this weekend or five years in the future …”

  Boh rolled her eyes, grinning. “Dude, chill, I’ll move in with you.”

  For a second, he didn’t process what she’d said, and now Boh began to laugh at his confusion. “You will?”

  “Yes, you doofus!” He picked her up and swung her around, utterly joyful.

  “Put me down, you big lug,” she laughed and when he had set her on her feet, she took his face in her hands. “I love you, Pilot Scamo. I am so in love with you. Of course, I’ll move in with you, regardless of how stupid-fast this is.”

  Pilot could hardly speak. “You love me?”

  “Utterly, completely, truly, madly, deeply, all the adverbs, all of ’em, and—” She didn’t get to finish her sentence before his lips were against hers, his arms around her tightly.

  He lifted her into his arms and carried her into the bedroom. Not wanting to ruin her ballgown, he unzipped the back slowly and she stepped out of the layers of tulle. She pulled at his bowtie, pretended to blindfold him with it, then threw it to one side. “I have to see your eyes,” she said, “they’re so beautiful. When you look at me like that … God, Pilot …”

  She pulled his shirt from his pants and he grinned. “Impatient girl.”

  “I want you naked …” She looked up at him from underneath long, thick lashes. “I want to go on top tonight, Pilot Scamo.”

/>   They stripped each other quickly, and Boh straddled him, stroking his cock against her belly, rolling the condom down it, caressing his balls, then running hands over his stomach. Pilot felt his muscles contracting under her touch. In the faint moonlight, her body looked like gold, her full breasts gently bouncing as she moved. He ran a fingertip between her breasts, down her stomach until it dipped into her navel. She shivered with pleasure at his touch.

  “I love you,” he said simply. “I think I might have loved you from the first time we talked. I’ve never had this connection with anyone. You’re amazing.”

  “I’m just me,” she said softly, but he could see tears in her eyes. “But I love you too, big boy.”

  Trust her to make him laugh. “Goofy.”

  “Doofus.” She knelt and guided his cock inside her, moaning as he filled her sweet, velvety cunt. “God, Pilot, I’ll never get tired of this, of making love with you.” She rode him gently at first, then as his hand snaked between her legs to stroke her clit, she quickened her pace, driving her hips hard against his. He gripped her buttocks hard and she moved faster as her excitement built.

  “Christ, you’re so beautiful,” he panted as she impaled herself hard on his cock and laced her fingers with his. He watched her come, a delicious blush in her cheeks, her skin dewy with sweat, her back arching, her head thrown back. She is a goddess…

  Pilot went to sleep that night knowing his future was in his arms.

  Serena waited until Kristof was well and truly loaded before calling a cab and loading him and herself into it. She gave the driver directions back to Kristof’s apartment and kissed Kristof all the way to stop him objecting.

  Once inside, she managed to get him into the apartment and strip him but try as she might, she could not get him hard.

  “Stop,” Kristof moaned, turning his face into his pillow.

  Serena sighed and got off him. “I need a bump.”

  “Help yourself,” Kristof mumbled, groaning. “I feel like shit.”

  Serena hoovered a line of cocaine up her nostril. “I’ll make you some coffee. We need to talk.”

  “Coffee, then talk. Maybe.”

  Serena went into Kristof’s vast kitchen to crank up his espresso machine. She stood at the floor-to-ceiling window and looked out over Manhattan. Serena placed her hands against the glass. Oh, to be able to afford a place like this. Maybe if she were useful to Kristof, he’d move her in with him permanently.

  Maybe if she gave him whatever he wanted. She smirked to herself. They were about to have a very significant chat.

  She made the coffee and took it back into the bedroom. Kristof had sat up now, and he actually thanked her for the drink. “What do you want to talk about?”

  Serena very deliberately sipped her coffee before answering. “How about the fact that Vasquez caught you and Elliott … swapping fluids, as it were?”

  Kristof went very still, his eyes hooded and dangerous. “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “Come on, Kris, I know you’ve been swapping out your sample for Elliott’s. Homeboy is so pure and virginial, he’s probably never even heard of cocaine. That’s why you picked him and I say … kudos. The regime at the ballet company can go suck it. You’re a genius.”

  Kristof was silent for a few minutes, studying Serena. Eventually, he lifted his chin. “What is it you want, Serena? If you’re looking for principal … I’m sorry. In all conscience, you’re not ready for that.”

  “Fine.”

  He looked at her quizzically. “Fine? Now I am intrigued. What could you possibly want more than principal?”

  Serena smiled. “You. I want you. Us. Together. Personally and professionally. I want to be your lover and your muse. I want to be your partner.”

  Kristof snorted but then his eyes got serious. “Serena, because I like you, I’ll be honest. Look at me. I’m an almost 50-year-old junkie has-been. Why the fuck would you want me? I’m not even that rich. You’re young, beautiful, and you could find yourself a sugar daddy like that.” He clicked his fingers.

  “But I don’t want a sugar daddy, Kris.” She went to sit by his side. “I don’t want money, although this place is sweet.” Serena slipped her hand into his and was gratified that he didn’t pull away. “Why should she get the mentor, the billionaire photographer, the lead, the spotlight in everything? You know I’m as good as she is.”

  “So, that’s what this is about—Boh.”

  Serena pressed her lips to his fiercely. “She’s not the only girl in the world.”

  Kristof put down his coffee cup and pulled her onto his lap. Serena wriggled, feeling his cock respond at last. Kristof ran his hands through her hair. “You’re not as good as Boh is and you know that. But you could be.”

  “With the right mentor.”

  He moved suddenly, flipping her onto her back and kicking her legs apart. He thrust his cock deep inside her, trying to regain some of the power which seemed to have shifted. “And what would you be prepared to do for that?”

  Serena smiled up at him. “Anything, Kristof … I would do anything.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Boh tried not to look too enamored with the loft space they were looking at, but she saw the same excitement in Pilot’s eyes. The loft, three blocks from the ballet company, was vast, open plan, exposed red brick, and huge windows. Boh’s eyes were wide with the possibilities. Was this really her life now?

  The realtor left them alone to talk and Pilot wrapped his arms around her. “Can you see it, Boh? The bookshelves along that wall, our bed over there …”

  “It’s perfect,” she said, and turned in his arms to kiss him. “It’s perfect, except … there’s no way I’ll even be able to half match you in price.”

  Pilot looked surprised. “That’s not something you need to worry about.”

  “But it is. For one thing, it’s not fair on you. For another, I do not want to be a kept woman.”

  “A kept woman? Boh, all we’re talking about is buying a place for us to live. What’s mine is yours. Are you really going to put what other people might think above our happiness?”

  Boh shook her head. “No. But I’m paying you rent.”

  “Fine, if that’s what’ll do it.” Pilot looked around. “But I feel it. This is the place.”

  Boh laughed softly. “We’re going a lot on gut instinct, aren’t we?”

  “It’s a good thing.”

  Pilot talked to the realtor. “We’ll take it, and if the buyer will settle by the end of the week, there’ll be a significant bonus.”

  “I’m sure we can arrange something.”

  Piot and Boh walked down to one of their favorite burger joints for lunch, hand in hand. As they tucked into their food, Pilot studied Boh. “You’re preoccupied.”

  She smiled at him. “I am, but I’m not having second thoughts, I swear. Taking stock, everything seems to be happening at once. You and me, the showcase, the exhibition.”

  “Just take one thing at a time. We’re good, you and me. The exhibition just needs one or two more shots, a few more candids, I think. Like that image of you right now with burger juice running down your chin.” He grinned as she hurriedly mopped her face with a napkin.

  Boh chuckled. “The more I think about the exhibition, the more nervous I get. I mean, are they really going to be blown away just by my photos, however brilliantly they are taken?”

  “You don’t get it, do you? The life, the beauty you bring to my work, it’s transcendent. Full disclosure: I fully intend to make you the focus of my work for the next few years.” He grinned wickedly and, flushing, she laughed.

  “Machiavelli.”

  “You know it. Speaking of Machiavelli … how’s it going with Mendelev?”

  It had been two weeks since she’d collapsed in Kristof’s class, and since then he had been—not kind, exactly—but he hadn’t pushed her too hard. Boh knew the steps automatically now, and so Kristof had focused on her and Elliott’s chemistry a
nd fluidity. He’d even told them he was happy with The Lesson segment, and moved on to La Sylphide, as well as prepping Serena and Jeremy for Romeo and Juliet.

  Boh had been getting home at a decent hour now, but she told Pilot now, she didn’t trust this calmer Kristof. “It’s just not him. Even when we have no showcase coming up, he’s a monster, driving us until we’re exhausted. He’s up to something.”

  Plot nodded, knowing the feeling well. Eugenie hadn’t called him for a couple of weeks now, and he couldn’t help but feel paranoid about it. He told himself that maybe she’d finally got the message that he wasn’t coming back to her—but he knew Genie too well.

  He sighed, rubbing his head, wishing life was easier, that they could be left alone to enjoy their new love. Boh asked him what he was thinking about and he told her.

  She nodded. “I know, baby, but that’s not the way the world works.”

  He smiled at her. “As long as I have you, I’m good.”

  “Always.” Boh cupped his cheek in her hand. “But I hate what she’s done to you, Pilot. I can see the damage. A man like you, a strong, courageous, wonderful man like you—it’s not fair. I wish I could wave a magic wand and make her leave you alone for good.”

  Pilot turned his head and kissed her palm. “Don’t worry about it. One day, it’ll come to me, the way to make her finally get the message that it’s over.”

  “I love you,” Boh said, “and it makes me want to protect you.”

  “I feel the same way, darling, I do. It gives me strength to know you’re on my side.”

  They kissed, not caring what the other patrons of the restaurant thought of their PDA. Afterwards, Pilot walked Boh back to the studio. “Enjoy your class, baby. Shall I come pick you up?”

  “Where will you be this afternoon? The Studio?”

  “Yep.”

  Boh kissed him. “Then I’ll walk to you. Don’t interrupt your work.”

 

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