by K. K. Allen
She shrugs, a soft smile stretching her lips. It's enough to knock the wind out of me.
"Sorry. I needed to think."
Shit. Thinking is never good. "About yesterday?"
Pink floods her cheeks, and if I wasn't terrified that regret would surface in her words, I'd strip her naked, right now on this stage, and attempt to recreate the last time I made her face that color-when she rode me like a fucking queen taking her king-bold and beautiful. And I let her. That might be the most insane part of it all.
"A lot happened yesterday, Wolf. We should talk about it, as ... awkward as it might be." She smiles, her cheeks darkening again.
Everything about her right now reveals exactly what I saw in Lyric from the very beginning. A strong, feisty fighter of a woman is standing in front of me, challenging me, and I'm feeling things I never knew existed. But she's softer now, too. In the best way imaginable, because she's vulnerable for me. We both know what we have goes beyond incredible sex and the thrill of keeping whatever this is a secret.
I need to take control of this conversation. "Did you enjoy yourself?"
She nods, a crease deepening between her brows. "Yes."
"Do you want to do it again?"
This time I can sense her nervousness in the rise of her chest. "Yes. Do you?"
My eyes narrow as I take a step closer. "I'm asking the questions now." She swallows, and I take another step forward until I'm directly in front of her. My hands could reach out and grab her waist. I could pull her to me and fill her mouth with my selfish need while desperately trying to give her everything she could possibly handle. She's right here, within my grasp, but I'm not going to take her unless I'm absolutely sure she wants to be taken.
"Are you scared?"
I can feel the sting of her eyes as they search mine, questions and doubts running rampant.
"Yes," she says in a whisper.
Honesty. It's refreshing. I reach for a strand of her hair, brushing it over her shoulder as I lean in to graze her ear with my lips. "That means you care, right?" I swallow, battling the flurry of emotions in my chest. "That means you want this to work out? Whatever this is."
Standing so close, I can hear her quickened breaths, each one slowly shredding whatever resistance I have left.
"I don't want to be disappointed. Not by you."
My head falls to her neck, my arms wrap around her waist, and I let her press her body flush to mine. That's enough of a confirmation that we're both in this, ready or not.
"I can't promise I won't disappoint you, Lyric. You know that. But I can promise that I don't want to, and I'll do everything in my power to prevent it."
She nods, and I lift my head enough to take her lips with mine, softly, testing them like it's the first time. Even when her mouth parts for me, I make her wait, accepting each pant like a challenge. My tongue sweeps against the length of her bottom lip, and my free palm rests against her neck as I glide one finger along her collar. It's not until she pushes herself onto the balls of her feet to get closer that I have the confirmation I was looking for.
I deepen the kiss, lift her off the stage floor, and pull her legs around my waist.
"Take me somewhere," she begs as she breaks away from my mouth. "Anywhere."
Lyric never needs to beg, but her words put a crooked smile on my face. I set her back on her feet, grab her hand, and lead her down the stage stairs, across the wide backstage gap, and through the main corridor lined with dressing room doors. I find the band's private room and motion for my security guard, Rex, who's been following at a safe distance, to keep watch as I shut and lock the door behind us.
I'm scanning the room to ensure we're alone while Lyric backs up to the couch, her calves pressed against the fabric. She strips the clothes from her body, every single stitch, while never taking her hungry eyes off me. I groan at the uncomfortable strain in my pants, my cock more than ready to tend to her. Something tells me this isn't going to be the sweet and slow kind of fuck we had yesterday.
I peel off my shirt. Shoes and pants next. I toss my clothes onto the couch and then step toward her until we're naked with just inches between us.
Lyric's eyes greedily skate over every inch of my body, her finger following as she draws a line down my middle, from collar to abdomen. And then she flattens her palm against me and slides it down until she's wrapping her small, torturous hands around my fully hard cock. The instant she applies some pressure I feel like I could explode. And then she starts to move, her grip agonizing but perfect. My pulse quickening to match her movements.
"You know just how to handle me, don't you, Lyric?" I groan.
She peers up, her eyes wide and so fucking innocent beneath the longest lashes. Then she starts to sink to her knees. I panic. There's no way I'll last if I let her take me in her mouth. With an internal cry, I help her up, shaking my head before letting it fall on hers. "I need to be inside you. Ride me."
A teasing smile lights up her face, then she nods. "Sit down, Wolf."
I don't hesitate. I sit, lean back, and watch as she inches forward. One silky knee dents the cushion beside me, And then another, until she's straddling me and sinking down onto my thighs. We're dangerously close, but not nearly close enough. In a swift move, my hands grip the top of her legs and my thumbs brush the insides of her thighs, toward her center. She's bare and open, glistening with approval, and it takes everything not to toss her onto her back and devour her juices with the hunger of a caged lion. I'm fucking famished for her. Ready. And so fucking hard.
I grab a condom from my jeans and rip open the package with my teeth before slipping it on. She wastes no time to sink down, enveloping me with the warmest, tightest grasp. I suck in air, my eyes fly open. They find her. And goddamn if she's not the most beautiful thing. With her head thrown back and her nipples pink and firm, bobbing with each heaving breath, I take one into my mouth, swirling my tongue around the tip before latching on completely. Lyric gasps, and I'm not sure if it's from my mouth or the fact that she's just found that sweet spot with my cock. Maybe a little of both.
And then she's really moving. The most beautiful fucking sight. Her eyes glued to mine. Her fingers gripping my shoulders, nails digging in. Her small, tight waist flexes and her back arches, all in a quick and steady rhythm. My hands find her ass and squeeze, then thrust my hips as I pull her deeper, making her gasp again. I love those tiny sounds she makes. I want her to fill my world with them.
"Right there, baby." I find her hazy, sated eyes with mine. It fills me with an energy I didn't know I had left. She makes me weak, she makes me strong, and I'd give anything to know I do the same to her. "Keep moving that beautiful body, Lyric. I've got you."
The pained expression on her face tells me she's ready to let go. It's building and any second now, she's going to come apart, and I'll get to watch her as she crashes above me. Only then will I follow, because I won't be able to hold back after that. And I don't just mean my release. I want to give Lyric everything she'll let me, for as long as fate will allow it.
Let's just pray fate is on our side ... for once.
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Chapter One
“I got an audition,” Shane announced when he walked into the a
partment, slamming the door behind him. A grand flourish if I’d ever seen one. Not even I would walk ten blocks in four-inch stilettos. But that was Shane, my six foot two inches of a man-friend whom I’d known since our very first dance class back in Seattle at age five.
His jersey bag landed at his feet, and his hands pumped the air as they often did when he was overly excited about something. “Sorry. Not just an audition. I got an invite.”
My eyes grew wide, excitement flourished quickly, then anxiety ripped through me at the speed of a freight train. So many emotions all at once. Up until that point, everything had been good. We’d been living off our savings, spending as little money as possible, and taking a variety of classes at Gravity Dance Complex, the premiere studio of the commercial dance world. No pressure. Just fun.
“An invite? For the Janet gig?” my voice squeaked. I scrambled to my knees. “But we’ve only been here three months. Is that even possible?”
He winked. “When your name’s Shane Masterson, anything is possible, honey.”
I fought back a groan. Shane had always been innocently cocky, aware of what his charm did to the human race. He was devilishly handsome, too, with raven-black hair cut short on the sides and always spiked in one direction or the other, rarely in the middle. But it was his personality that won everyone over. And yes, for Shane, anything definitely seemed possible.
Refusing to respond to his joke, I crossed my arms. “I thought we decided to wait. We’re finally getting into a rhythm here. You can’t—”
“Lex.” He pursed his lips as if he were about to scold me. “I got an invite. I’m not going to turn it down. That would be career suicide, and you know it.”
I was speechless. Professional gigs for music videos and stage shows came through Gravity all the time. It was the mecca of dance talent where A-list celebrities and casting directors nationwide frequently recruited, primarily for stage, television, and film bookings. Shane and I had talked about attending an open audition one day after getting our feet wet. The plan was always to take the plunge together. But getting an invite to audition was rare. He couldn’t turn it down, not even if he wanted to.
My mind was still reeling as Shane started to raid the cabinets, though I wasn’t sure what for. The only food remaining was the jar of peanut butter that sat half empty on the counter. He must have realized it almost as fast as I thought it, and he slammed the door shut. “We’re ordering a pizza.”
“Shane,” I warned. We’d set aside money for one year of dance classes and rent. He knew we didn’t have money to indulge.
“Lex,” he warned back. “We dance eight to ten hours a day. You’ve still got that ass, but I will not be held responsible for you turning into a pile of bones. It’s time to indulge in a big ole pie of heaven.”
I let out a laugh despite the residual shock from the bomb he’d just dropped. Leave it to Shane to mask any tense situation with the topic of food.
“Look,” he said, his sweet smile telling me he knew he’d won. “Just think. If I get this gig, we’ll be better off. We can’t take classes and live off Skippy and ramen while we wait for something to happen. Aren’t you tired of waiting, baby girl?”
“Yes, but—”
He popped his hip and pursed his lips. “But what?”
“You’ll get the job.” I didn’t mean for my voice to come out so whiny, but we’d just moved to LA.
“You don’t know that.”
“Maybe not this job, but it won’t take you long. And then what? You might have to leave LA … and leave me here … alone.”
He tilted his head and quirked his lip. “So dramatic.”
I bit back my smile. The exaggerated pout was a little much.
“You could start auditioning too.”
“Ha,” I said on a sarcastic breath.
“C’mon, Lex. It’s just like dating. You have to put yourself out there. Let them know you’re interested. Check out your options.” His eyes lit up, and he smacked the counter before leaning forward. “Speaking of dating options.”
Oh no, here we go. My entire body cringed.
“There is this gorgeous hunk of man who teaches some of my classes. Do you know Reggie Maynor?” He fanned himself with his hand as his lids fluttered dramatically. “Dear Lord.” But when he looked up and my expression hadn’t changed, he threw his hand down while rolling his eyes. “Doesn’t matter. You’d know who he was if you saw him. Anyway. He was trying to be sly, but he was asking about you today.”
I knew exactly who he was talking about, but I didn’t come to LA to find a man. So I chose to ignore his second attempt at changing the conversation.
“You know I’m not ready to audition yet. I thought we both wanted to get some training first and—”
“We’ve been training our whole lives. This is why we’re here. Besides, what better training than to audition and check out the competition?”
I snapped my mouth shut. He was right, but I wasn’t ready to pay the ultimate price of my dream—losing my best friend. Not yet. Frustration shook through me. “Who gave you the invite?”
“Her name’s Janelle. She scouts for a bunch of artists. Heard she’s friends with that dreamy choreographer you love too. Theodore Noska.” When his eyebrows wiggled suggestively, I picked up the nearest object and chucked it at him. My black-and-pink tennis shoe smacked him in the chest, causing him to shoot me a glare and stab a finger in the air. “I’m dragging your freckled ass to the next open audition just for that.”
I wanted to scream. He didn’t get it. In this industry, it wasn’t enough to be the best dancer in the room. It was about friendships, connections, timing, and a little bit of luck. I saw the way the veteran dancers had looked at Shane and me when we first arrived, some with their side-eye glances or, worse, those who didn’t see us at all. We were blips on their radars, passersby there for the experience, and immediately dismissed as contenders. I wanted that to change—I wanted to earn my spot.
And maybe somewhere deep down there was fear of failure too. Of getting rejected for the one thing I loved most in the world. I’d only ever had a plan A, despite my parents’ wishes. And taking class was fun. Taking class didn’t lead to the inevitable disappointment that came with this industry.
I was comfortable, but maybe that was a bad place to be. Still, the insecurities swarmed my chest, and I couldn’t let them go.
“Do you know how many times I’ve been told I won’t make it as a professional dancer? I’m not ready to hear it from the people who matter. This studio … those dancers … the choreographers. I need this community to accept me. If I ever get a job, I want them to know I earned it.”
Shane’s expression changed drastically from the happy-go-lucky man who walked through the door minutes ago to someone with only my best interests at heart. I cringed at the ass kicking to come.
“Don’t let your father’s words hold you back, Lex. That’s all they are. Words. You’re here because you belong here, and you’ll see in time, it was the right decision.”
His comment hit me in the gut.
“I will?”
“Yes.” He leveled me with his eyes. “You’re the biggest fucking rock star on that dance floor, Alexandra Lorraine Quinn, and I’m not just saying that because you bought me my first pair of stilettos.”
I giggled, but his eyes remained serious.
“You think those dancers are going to respect you if they see you taking a million classes before you ever audition?” He shook his head emphatically. “Wrong, sweetheart. They won’t even know your name until you slap a numbered sticker on those tight abs of yours, strut onto that dance floor like you think you’re Beyoncé, and then fail—and then fail again. And third”—his eyes narrowed on mine, silencing my giggles—“the only person holding you back from your dream is you.”
My eyes filled with tears as he made his way over to my air mattress, plopped down, then pulled me into his arms. I loved the closeness we’d maintained all these year
s. I loved how Shane had always been the one to push me toward my dreams and comfort me when things didn’t go as planned. So yeah, I was terrified for all of that to go away. And I could feel it in the air; the time was coming.
Shane lived life full out. Nothing scared him. Nothing was worth backing down for. That might have been what I loved most about him. He’d faced all kinds of adversity, from his sexual orientation to surviving a toxic home life to always being considered freakishly tall compared to the rest of our peers. And all that was mixed with the ridicule he’d received for being a male dancer among our adolescent peers. He never let anything stop him from reaching what he wanted.
Shane and I were opposites.
Doer versus dreamer. Life of the party versus wallflower. And for some reason, we loved each other more for it all. We balanced each other. Or rather, he balanced me.
When Shane spoke next, my head was tucked safely under his chin.
“You might never feel ready, Lex. You just have to take a leap at some point. It might as well be now. It’s time to fly, baby girl.”
Chapter Two
The next audition didn’t appear on the bulletin board in Gravity's community area until a couple weeks later. “You’re coming with me to this one,” Shane had demanded that night over a homemade platter of meats and cheeses.
I hadn’t put up an argument since the Janet audition was a sore subject. Shane hadn’t even made it past the first round of cuts, but at least he had tried, which was a hell of a lot more than I had done since venturing with him to LA. Maybe he was right about auditioning for the experience. When I thought about it like that, the outcome didn’t seem so intimidating.