by Alexa Riley
She takes a sip of her coffee and gives me those eyes like she knows she’s right and there’s nothing I can do about it. And I’m mad as hell because she is right and there’s nothing I can do about it.
We’re at our favorite coffee shop having our early Saturday morning date. Mina’s parents come over on Saturday’s to have breakfast with the kids, so we get the time to have some alone time and I take my wife on a date.
She reaches out, taking my hand, and of course I melt at her touch. But I’m still aggravated. Our oldest daughter Amy is having a spring dance at their elementary school, but she didn’t tell me about it. Instead she told her mom and kept it from me. Mina told me about it that night and asked me to keep it secret. She thinks Amy is being shy and that she didn’t want me to give her a hard time.
“I should be able to go, that’s all I’m saying,” I pout. I know I’m being ridiculous, but I’m in a house with four females. I don’t have a choice.
We’ve had three girls so far and I’m trying to talk Mina into one more. I’d love a boy, but I’d love a girl just the same. I’m not done with babies yet, but Mina says we’re blessed to have three healthy girls. Although she doesn’t put up much of a protest when I’ve got her under me.
“Kingsley,” she says and narrows her eyes. When she calls me by my full name I know she’s being serious. I let out a huff, but I don’t feel better.
“She’s my baby. Why wouldn’t she tell me about the dance?”
“Maybe because of the way you’re acting,” she says and gives me a soft smile. “You know how Amy is. She’s a little shy, a lot like me before I met you.”
“Well, she’s never getting married then!” I say, a little too loudly, and some people from the next table look over at us.
“King, she’s eight,” Mina says and rolls her eyes. “And parents are not allowed to attend. The teachers will be there, and they’re all just awkward kids anyway. They’ll bounce around and do the cha-cha slide, then we’ll go pick her up.”
“Or maybe I’ll just wait in the parking lot,” I grumble.
“It’s her first dance and she’s really excited. I’m sure she’ll tell you when she’s ready.”
“And what if she’s never ready?” I say, sulking.
That’s the real problem. That my little girls might think they can’t come talk to me. I know I’m possessive of Mina and my daughters, but it’s because I love them so much. They’re my whole world. I don’t want to be on the outside of their bond and I’ve got to figure out a way to fix that.
“She’ll tell you, sweetie,” she says, leaning over and kissing me on the cheek. “Finish your coffee, we’ve got to get back in time to take Lexi to soccer.”
I take our cups over to the bin and drop them in. Mina waits on me and I take her hand as we walk to the truck and I open the door for her. Once she’s inside I go around and get in. I’m quiet on the way back home, but I hear Mina humming along to the radio. It’s easy for her to be in a good mood, she’s not the one having secrets kept from her.
When we pull up to the house, Mina puts a hand on my thigh. “Remember, just be patient and she’ll come around. They always do.”
She leans over and gives me a kiss. I hold her there, deepening it. Her hands move up my thigh and to my cock and she cups me.
“Save this for me and meet me in the shower,” she whispers, then winks and jumps out of the truck.
We go in the house and she giggles as I spank her ass and she runs up the stairs. “I’ll be up in ten,” I say.
“Don’t be late,” she warns as she goes.
I walk back to the kitchen where Mina’s parents are cleaning up breakfast and dancing with the girls.
“How was your date?” Lexi asks as she twirls.
“Any time I get to spend with your mom is the best,” I answer, grabbing her hand and spinning her again. “You’ve got soccer in an hour.”
“Got it,” she says, giving me a high five and running out of the kitchen.
I talk with Mina’s parents for a second, telling them what field the game is on so they can come. Then I kiss Amy and our youngest, Beth, on the head before I go to join my woman in the shower.
“Daddy?” I hear just as I’m walking out of the kitchen. When I turn around I see Amy coming down the hallway.
“What’s up, pumpkin?” I ask, reaching out and tugging her ponytail. How can my little baby be so big? Where did the time go?
“I was wondering if while Lexi was at her game, you could take me dress shopping.”
My mouth falls open and for a second I don’t know how to answer.
“I just didn’t want to do it with Lexi and Beth there and I wanted a new dress for the dance next week.”
“Um, yeah. Yeah, we can do that,” I say hoarsely, then clear my throat.
“Okay, great, love you,” she says and runs off in the other room.
I stand there stunned for a second before I have to turn and run up the stairs. When I get to our bedroom, I kick the door closed and run into the bathroom.
“She asked for a dress!” I shout, and Mina looks out through the shower glass at me.
“What?”
“She asked me to take her dress shopping,” I say and feel relief in my chest.
I didn’t realize I was so worried about it until she said the words, and now I’m relieved. I jump in the shower with Mina and pick her up and pin her to the tile wall.
“I told you so,” she says smiling at me.
“Don’t be so smug,” I say, and I thrust into her.
She moans as her legs tighten around me.
“After I’m done getting you off you’re going to tell me how to buy a dress.”
Her giggle turns into another moan as I remind her who the King is.
THE END!
Devotion
by Alexa Riley
DEVOTION
by
Alexa Riley
Aurora Adams has had everything in her life regimented. She’s been made to eat certain foods, wear certain clothes, and only do what her mother allows…all for the sake of her dancing career. Life is lonely and cold, but she doesn’t have a choice. When her mother decides to send her away for a year of training it’s just another blow to her already fragile heart.
Noah Hill has never had passion for much in his life. But one look at Aurora and his world ignites. From the moment he sees her on the stage, he knows she has to be his. When her mother stands in the way, he has no other choice.
Will Aurora finally have a chance to break free, or is she trading one cage for another? When temptation leads to devotion, maybe the truth isn’t so important.
Warning: He’s a billionaire set to kidnap the ballet dancer he sees on stage. What could possibly be any more wonderful!? Get your buns ready because we’ve got you covered!
Copyright © 2017 by Author Alexa Riley LLC. All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, email to [email protected]
http://alexariley.com/
Publisher’s Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.
Edited by: Aquila Editing
Cover Design: Perfect Pear Creative Covers
To the bottle of vodka that inspired this story…
Prologue
Noah
I’ve never been a fan of the arts. Museums, plays, operas…all of it just sounds so exhausting. But sometimes they are a necessary evil. Especially in
my line of work. A client and his wife are in town for a deal, and she begged for tickets to the ballet.
The ballet. Could that be any more pretentious? I want to roll my eyes at having to admit that I’m going along with them. But she wouldn’t take no for an answer since I got such good tickets.
I should have known better than to rent the whole box. Next time I’ll just get two tickets for an easy way out.
Tonight I have no choice, and I toss back another Scotch in the limo as we pull up to the front of the theater. At least if I’m going to be here I’m going to have a few drinks to get me through.
We are escorted to the box, and the couple sit close, looking over the edge and smiling at one another. I sit in the back next to the curtain hoping that if I fall asleep while the performance is going on, they won’t notice.
We order drinks, and I slip the waiter a hundred, telling him to make mine a double and don’t let it get empty.
By the time the curtains fall, I’m done with niceties and thankful for the darkness. I sit back in my chair and pray it will be over quickly. I can probably catch the tail end of the Mets game if I sneak out after the intermission.
When the music starts, the lights are still low, and a soft blue glow appears on stage. A lone ballerina stands with her back to the audience, with her hair down. It strikes me as odd, because they’re usually in those tight buns at the top of their head. But long dark hair falls down in waves as her arms slowly rise over her head.
The music remains low, almost chilling as only the strings are playing. The blue glow fills the stage now, and stars appear all around her. Twinkling lights shine against her long legs as she raises one leg above her head and holds it there.
Her body turns, and her chin is dipped down, so I’m unable to see her eyes. But the lights brighten and the music becomes louder as she unfurls her body and stretches her arms wide.
She raises her chin, and for a brief moment, I swear she looks right at me. Her piercing blue eyes bore straight into mine, and she pauses. It’s so fast, I don’t know if anyone noticed, but it was there.
The drums begin, and dancers from all around the stage join her now. The music grows and the lights brighten as the brunette beauty is lost in the crowd.
I squeeze the glass in my hand so hard it shatters, and I look down at the mess I’ve made. My client and his wife look back to me, but I grab a napkin and wrap my hand in it. I quietly tell them to finish the show, and excuse myself.
There’s a large cut across my palm which probably needs stitches. I knot the napkin tighter as I make my way down the back stairs and to the exit.
Several security guards try to stop my progress, but once I show them my injury they let me pass. Before long I’m at the stage entrance and off to the side in the shadows. From where I’m standing I can watch the dancers walk on and off the stage.
It doesn’t take long for me to pick her out of the crowd.
I spend the next two hours with my eyes on her as I try to keep my hand from bleeding. But as the show comes to a close, the rag I have around my hand is soaked and I’m too lightheaded to stand much longer.
I text my driver and meet him at the rear exit then have him take me to the emergency room. I have to let the frustration of not being able to see her go so that I can get this taken care of.
Besides, it’s not like I won’t see her again. I grabbed a playbill on the way out, so I’ve got her name.
Some people have told me I have an obsessive personality. That when I want something, I will stop at nothing to get it. That when something has my attention, I have tunnel vision.
I smile as the needle and thread go through my hand and think that everyone was wrong. One look at Aurora Adams and I was beyond obsessed.
But I like to think of it as devotion.
Chapter 1
Aurora
Can a person love and hate something at the same time? How can something be the very misery of your life, but the thought of not having it is just as unbearable?
I slip down the stairs of my parents’ home, with one location in mind. But like always I pause when I look over at the refrigerator. The padlock is firmly in place.
My mother’s perfect kitchen looks odd, with big locks nailed into the wood cabinets and the looped chain that holds the refrigerator door closed. It’s sealed so no one can get in. No one but her. I don’t even know why she bothers. It’s not like she keeps much in there anyway. Anything worth wanting.
Still, the pang in my stomach reminds me that I’m hungry. It makes me feel like taking anything I can get my hands on. Grabbing the lock, I give it a little pull, but nothing happens. I feel the lump in my throat and I push it away. This isn’t new. I should be used to this. I release the cold lock from my hand, and the metal hits the stainless steel of the refrigerator. I cringe, praying it didn’t wake my mother.
I wait a second, holding my breath, but hear nothing. Letting out a sigh of relief, I head toward the back door, slipping out into the cool night air. The dampness of the grass makes my feet a little wet.
I stop and look at the little building that at one time felt like everything to me, the place my mother had built because she finally loved me. She saw something in me that was worth loving for the first time. I’d made her proud. For a time, at least.
Sometimes I can’t get out of that place fast enough. And other times I sneak in to be alone.
I open the glass doors and walk in, sitting down on the cold hardwood floors of the dance studio. I stretch, trying to make my muscles not feel so tight. They ache from being overworked, and what I really need is sleep. But my mind won’t let me have it. The pain in my muscles and the hunger that lingers from missing dinner bite at me.
I know the only thing that will give me peace is if I dance. It’s the only thing that makes everything else melt away. To dance for myself. To not think about the performance I have tomorrow. It’s when I feel most free. No one here to yell at me and tell me I’m doing it wrong. That my feet aren’t right or that I’m not trying hard enough.
When I dance for myself I don’t care about any of that. I feel the music and let it take me. I fall into a world where there are no pressures to be something I don’t want to be, to live up to impossible expectations, no matter how hard I try or how hard I work. It’s never enough for her. But in these small stolen moments, it’s enough for me.
And that’s all that matters. Until she wakes up.
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Paid For
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Stealing Christmas
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Her Touch
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Flight Risk
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Unexpected Claim
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