But it wasn’t fast enough. He could hear Peter asking his indecent proposal to Aliya behind their retreating backs. “If you ever want to talk more about your plans before the meeting, Aliya, please do not hesitate. My office is always open for you.”
Jonathan did not wait to hear anymore. He began to escort Myrtle out of the theatre. He was done with Aliya Chance.
*
Or so he thought.
“We need more dancers. Male dancers. Bobby’s knees are shot, and Gabe spends way too much time chasing skirts, drinking, and God knows what else. Our performance of ‘The Trail of Tears’ is beginning to suffer. It really depends on men, strong male dancers.”
Jonathan sat behind his massive oak desk. Aliya was perched over it, still in costume. Her breasts were heaving below her traditional native dress. He could see the rise and fall of them, and it brought back all the memories of their one night together. Thoughts that he’d been able to push out of his mind during the day for the last two weeks, but not so successfully at night. Not when her breasts were right there in front of him. Hell, if he stood up right now, she’d know what he was thinking about instead of focusing on her words.
“Can’t you just choreograph around that?” he sighed. He was repeating himself. He knew it. He’d said that twice already.
“No, I can’t. Not without the performance suffering. Eve told me I needed your okay before posting the positions. We can use Bobby, but not in the role he’s been playing, and frankly, you need to fire Gabriel.” She crossed her arms in front of her in an angry gesture that only further enhanced her already ample endowments.
“Fine.” He gave up. He wasn’t getting anywhere with her in this conversation. And if she didn’t leave his office soon, he was going to do something pretty drastic. Like clear everything off his desk in one sweeping motion and take her right there. Yep, that was where his thoughts had wound up. He’d make a complete ass of himself. “Fine. Send Gabriel to me. And, put the ad out.”
He remained behind his desk, his cock throbbing. He hoped she’d just leave, but to his dismay she sat down instead. And of all the fucking luck, she crossed her legs causing the hem of her dress to ride even higher. “Thank-you,” she heaved, and smiled. Her look of satisfaction almost undid him. He glanced at his desk top thinking about what would get ruined if she stayed much longer.
“Was there something else?” he asked, trying to sound annoyed when it was more like sexual frustration that needed to be taken care of. And soon. Her countenance went from anger to anxiety in a fraction of a second. She looked nervous and he watched as her small even white teeth began to worry the side of her top lip. His mouth went dry. Damn this woman, and the spell she had him under. He cursed his luck. She shifted her position, and he nearly groaned and choked at the view. Her legs were beyond fantastic.
She let out a small sigh, but didn’t pause for long. “I . . . I . . . also wanted to apologize. For blurting all that out when the council members were here. I . . . wanted to reassure you, I plan to fulfill my contract. I need this job to save enough to repair and fix the studio I plan on starting.”
He gave himself a moment to calm down. Tenting his fingers under his chin he leaned forward at his desk relieving a bit of the strain he was feeling. Nodding, he started. “Okay. That is good to know.” She gave him a small smile. She was utterly breathtaking when she smiled. God, he wanted this woman.
“And, I also wanted you to know, I could continue part time afterwards, if you still needed me.”
Still needed her? God, did he need her.
“Aliya, go out with me.” He just blurted it out.
She sat ram rod straight in her chair. The suddenness of the change in direction of their conversation caught her completely off guard. She began to fidget in her seat and looked about nervously while she twisted her hands in her lap. He could feel the attraction, and knew she felt it, too. Her hesitation was telling. He was always good about seeng a person’s tell. He hoped she would give this a chance. Whatever it was between them wasn’t one sided. And it wasn’t finished. That much he knew.
“I don’t give many people second chances, Aliya. I know you are single. No boyfriend, you live alone. A date, a real one?” He suggested it, rather than demanding it. He wanted to make it clear it was just not about sex anymore.
Again she remained quiet. He saw a flash of pain cross her face before she tried to hide it from him, and then her almond shaped eyes were on him. It nearly took his breath away. She leaned forward. Her hair in a thick braid came forward over one of her delicate shoulders, and he wanted to tug on it, feel the weight of all that hair bound and plaited. She licked her lips before speaking. “I’m just so busy. I’ve got one class to finish. I’m writing my proposal for the council.” He sensed it was an evasion. He wasn’t ready to surrender just yet.
“I’m busy too.” He looked around his office. “Everyone’s busy. That is life.” He gestured around his office. Stacks of files and printed out spreadsheets were scattered across the room. He was still dealing with the accounting fiasco and was examining the books themselves. But he kept his focus on her. She was breathing erratically. Small pants.
“I’m just not interested.” Her eyes darted everywhere and refused to meet his. Hard or not, he got up and rounded his desk. He stood before her, and she was forced to look up or stare at his crotch. His arousal was still evident. She felt the same way every time he was near. Her pussy clenched. She’d dreamed about him every night for the past month. It was torture.
When she looked up, his eyes were in flames. She hadn’t felt so powerful an attraction in nearly a decade. Who was she kidding? This was more.
“You’re lying.” His words were a dare. And she was terrified and confused. Her body ached to be touched by him again. But her mind was still in turmoil.
“What?” she muttered in confusion still trying to stall for time so she could think clearly.
“I said you’re a liar. Your breathing is hitched. Your nipples are hard.” He risked lowering his hand to hover over one of her delectable orbs. He flicked one tip with his finger. Her sharp intake of breath made his cock harden even more. He reached for her hands and pulled her up to a standing position. She stood, and her legs were shaky. Involuntarily, she swayed towards him, touching without touching. They were a hairs breath away, but she was on fire.
Aliya had to shake her head to clear it. She couldn’t concentrate with him so close. “It’s nothing personal. I’m just not looking for a fling right now.”
“I’m okay with that.” His words confused her. Her body was pressed against his now. His hands were splayed across her back, making erotic circles and keeping her helplessly distracted.
“I’m also not looking to give private dances for the boss,” she added, still so confused by her body’s betrayal.
“Hmm, now you have given me an idea. One I won’t be able to get out of my head until I make that happen.” He knew it was the wrong thing to say, as soon as he felt her body stiffen in his arms.
“Never.” Her eyes locked into his.
“I was kidding.” Jonathan laughed. Partly to lighten the suddenly tense mood. “Why are you pushing me away so hard, Aliya, when you and I both know we want each other, want this?” He dipped his head lower so their lips were just a breath away. “I know you feel it.” He stroked her cheek with his until his mouth was right next to her ear.
She felt the heat of his words along her neck, and could not help but to shiver. When his tongue trailed along her rapid fire pulse, the gasp that escaped her was wanton and full of desire. It only encouraged him to do more. “I want you like no one before,” he confessed, grasping her face and doing what he wanted to do for over a month.
The blood roared in her ears the moment his lips crushed hers. She was responding in record time, and she felt him turning her, but was unaware of anything else until she was lifted and placed on top of his desk.
With one hand he cleared most of it, and then he w
as on top of her. Her body was engulfed in sensation. She wanted it. Needed it. Once more, she told herself as his hand pushed her panties aside and he found her already drenched pussy. He began to finger her, plunging one long digit inside her, and her back arched to receive it.
“God, I want you,” the words tore from her soul as she broke the kiss on a gasp of pleasure.
“Let’s not deny it any longer.” His voice was like gravel as he stood and began to unfasten his slacks. She sat back up to help him. Pure need rushed through them both.
Jonathan took out his wallet quickly before his pants slid to the floor, and hastily retrieved a condom. Aliya took the foil package from his grasp as he finished removing his pants and briefs. His cock was rock hard and she easily slipped it down his massive length. The touch of her fingers, although light, had him jumping. He needed to be deep inside her now.
As she lie back down, he grasped her hips at the same time, and plunged deeply. She was wet and ready. Her cry of pleasure when his index finger found her already exposed clit was all he needed to take her roughly. Leaning into her, he felt her feet in soft moccasins pull him closer as he began to pound and thrust into her repeatedly. It was going to be quick.
Aliya felt every glorious inch of Jonathan’s pulsing cock pound into her. And she met him thrust for thrust. This man had bewitched her. For a month, he invaded her dreams. And in her waking moments, she had to force him from her mind. She knew coming here today, she risked this happening. But as his cock sunk into her over and over, she didn’t regret it. Not one second. His fingers played her. He was the arrow, she the bow.
“Oh, God, yes,” she begged for the release that was almost upon her.
Jonathan crushed his body to hers feeling her nipples through his shirt. Like hard diamonds they scraped him. He captured her mouth and her groans as her pussy began to convulse around him, milking him for all he was worth.
Aliya’s world tilted on its axis. She literally saw stars as the explosion that rocked her hit hard and fast. And then she felt Jonathan tense as his body jerked up, and he continued to pound into her over and over again. She saw the muscles in his neck cord above his collared shirt. Then he threw his head back and powered through his release letting out a powerful groan of his own. When he stilled and looked at her, their bodies still connected, he whispered. “You are a witch, Aliya. One I can’t get enough of.” Then he leaned over her to press a kiss on her lips.
Eye to eye, he asked again. “Go out with me. A date.” There was a flash of pain and Jonathan’s heart thundered, afraid for yet another rejection. “This is good between us, Aliya. Not a fling. Maybe something more.”
He saw her brief nod, and for a moment his heart soared before he heard her words. “I’m sorry, Jonathan. Just sex. It can’t be more.” Her eyes begged him to understand.
He pressed a kiss to her lips to seal the deal. “If that’s what you’re offering, I’m okay with that, . . . for now.”
Aliya closed her eyes briefly before she reached up to kiss him this time. It’s all she had to give, she thought. For always.
Chapter 5
‡
Jonathan watched the troupe take a final bow as the curtain fell. Aliya’s performance tonight in the role of Makkitotosimew had been beyond stellar. This locally written rendition of The Day told the tale of the Mystic Massacre of 1637. In retribution for helping to hide those responsible for the deaths of two white men, the Pequots along the Mystic had been slaughtered in their sleep by local white Puritans. It was a sad tale, and the few who had remained scattered to the winds, and struggled to keep their nation, their people’s traditions and culture alive while living with other local or friendly tribes. Over 600 men, women, and children had burned in their lodges. More had run and were chased down and axed, shot, and butchered by Puritan hatchets.
This rendition of the story had been told through song and dance, and it never failed to move him. It represented the century’s long struggle his people had faced. His mother had told them the story often, and it had been told in school and at the cultural centers he’d attended as a child. But seeing Aliya in the role made it seem more real and poignant than ever before. It was truly their saddest story.
Despite the pang of loss he felt at his people’s history, he couldn’t help but feel hopeful too. His people had finally gotten recognition as a First Nation. His mother had worked hard to achieve that. And now the casino would help them to get on their feet economically. It was all coming together. The curtain rose once more and the troupe took another bow as the audience continued to applaud their appreciation.
As the crowd began to filter out, he tried to contain his excitement. Maybe it was knowing he would be seeing Aliya later that night, but he was practically breathless with anticipation. He hated having to meet her so late, but as she said they were both so busy. He was currently seated up front, wining and dining several of the tribal council members. His report for them this week was not going to go well. With his mother out of town on her yearly vacation, not only was it his job to keep them entertained and happy, but he needed to figure out why Simon’s numbers were not matching their projections from last quarter. So far Simon hadn’t been able to come up with anything close to what seemed to be missing.
Myrtle Croaton, beside him, was still cheering loudly, and he knew she had seen this show at least a half a dozen times. It had been her idea to attend the performance. She wanted to become better acquainted with Aliya; someone she felt could help translate their culture to the younger generation. Peter sat across from Jonathan, and he saw the man’s gleam in his eye once more as he watched Aliya take her bows before the curtain’s final fall.
Peter turned back towards the other people seated, barely glancing Jonathan’s way. “That woman, Aliya Chance.” He beamed and fanned himself letting out a low wolf whistle. Myrtle gave him a death stare that he ignored. Inside, Jonathan cringed but said nothing.
“Yes, she is very talented,” Myrtle added. “I’m glad she is back. She could do many things for our people.”
Peter nodded vigorously probably thinking about what he would like her to do for him.
As did Jason Paralta, another of the elder tribal members. Josephine Milea was silent however. She was the youngest and newest member of the board and tribal council.
“I never thought she would return,” was her only comment. Jonathan’s ears perked up. He remembered Aliya briefly from when she was on the reserve, but they had not traveled together in the same circles back then. Her parents had always kept a close reign on her, having had only the one child.
Peter was speaking and he listened in. “Yes, she left to attend some prestigious school in New York when she was fifteen, if I recall correctly. But then her parents returned without her four and a half years later. The rumor was she had left school and gotten engaged, but then broke it off a few months later.
Jonathan engaged Myrtle in conversation, pretending not to listen. He didn’t like hearing these things from someone besides Aliya. Their relationship wasn’t that far along yet. They had seen each other just twice in the last week and they had not progressed to the part where they shared their personal histories. He smiled wryly. In fact, they had done very little talking on both of those occasions. They had been quick and incredibly hot occasions. Once in her dressing room, and then again yesterday in his suite upstairs when she surprised him with a particularly amusing and arousing text message. His response had been to meet her in his suite. She knew the way.
“I heard she got knocked up, and, er. . . lost the baby I think, then she left the guy to pursue her dancing career in Vegas.” Peter’s tone darkened.
Jonathan turned to him sharply. “Quite the gossip, aren’t you?” he sneered. “You seem to have done a little digging on Miss Chance.”
Myrtle reached over to pat his hand, sensing the anger just below the surface. “All that is in the past. She is home, with her people. And that is a good thing for her, and for us. Her intenti
ons are good. I like her. Her past is really none of our concern,” she added pointedly to both Peter and Jonathan.
He let out a breath taking the sage advice of the village elder and tribal councilwoman. Aliya’s past was her past. It didn’t matter what she had done then. His interest lie in her future.
Peter must have taken the hint for he was quick to change the subject. The auditorium was nearly empty now. “She is a talented dancer. I don’t know if she is capable of running a studio though, but I am more than willing to hear her out. Everyone deserves a second chance I guess.” Peter laughed at his double entendre while using Aliya’s last name.
“Yes, they do.” Again, it was Myrtle, and she was pointedly looking at just Peter this time. Her brown eyes revealing her intuitiveness.
Again, Peter chose to ignore her, and turned towards Jason Paralta. “And with those long legs, I think I would enjoy giving her chance.” The comment was made softly, but all the council members heard. Myrtle and Josephine made a distasteful glance at one another. They must have often heard Peter making sexually charged remarks before. But Jonathan wasn’t going to overlook it anymore. He had enough of this mans rude and condescending overtures.
“She’s off limits, Peter.” Jonathan’s words came out smoothly. Factually. He hated hearing this malicious gossip coming from a respected council member. More than anything right now, he felt like smashing in Peter’s cocky face. He wanted to wipe the smirk off of it, but chose to be diplomatic. It was what his mother would want. And he knew the tribal council had final say in all major decisions at the casino. He couldn’t smash the man’s face. It would be difficult to work with him after that, let alone gain his support for new projects. Peter’s dark slash of an eyebrow shot up.
“Really?” he questioned, peering at Jonathan with interest, but expressing doubt with the single word. So the young Sassacus was interested in Miss Aliya Chance. That was interesting to him. And when Jonathan avoided answering him, not willing to add to the claim he had just made, Peter just shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly. The man had to do better than that, if he thought Peter wasn’t going to try to get better acquainted with that sexy dancer. “Well, I think I’d like to reacquaint myself with her anyhow. Find out more about this studio she wants to open. It’s for our people, after all.” He continued to prod the younger man into revealing his hand, but Jonathan remained mute. His lips pressed into a grim line. He gave Jonathan a shifty smile and once more a shoulder shrug turning to Jason beside him.
Chances (Mystic Nights #1) Page 4