Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 92848 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92848 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
This is my happy place.
Under normal circumstances, when I step inside the bright space, everything that weighs me down vanishes into thin air and I’m able to focus on the piece of choreography I’m working on. That doesn’t happen this time. Thick tension continues to gather in my shoulder blades.
For just a second or two, I contemplate coming clean with him.
But how can I do that?
Instead, I beeline to the small room to change into booty shorts and an athletic top. I’m hoping that an hour of intense physical activity will help burn off the heaviness that continues to weigh me down, pinning me to the earth, making it impossible to suck in full breaths.
At least enough to make it through the remainder of the evening without losing it and calling Pamela out for the conniving gold digger that she is.
When I return to the studio, Ford is sitting against one of the mirrored walls. His gaze immediately fastens onto me as I pick out a playlist.
Just as the music floats through the space and I take my position in the middle of the floor, he says, “Truth or dare.”
Holding the pose, I glance at him. “Dare.”
“Dance naked for me.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
Ford
Emotion flickers in her eyes and for a moment, I wonder if she’ll turn me down. But then her fingers drift to the thick band of her athletic bra, and she stretches the Lycra up her body and over her head before dropping the bright blue material to the floor. She shoves the stretchy shorts and panties down long lean legs until she’s completely naked.
Fuck.
My gaze slides down her length, greedily taking in every dip and curve.
Carina is so damn sexy.
She’s the one I dream about and now that I have her, I don’t want to let go. Maybe this started out as a way to work her out of my system, but it backfired spectacularly.
Now I just need to convince her to make this the real deal. It doesn’t escape me that every time I lay my hands on her, she melts into a puddle of goo. I’ll just have to broach the subject when I’m buried deep inside the heat of her body. Once I’ve secured her agreement, we can move forward and stop hiding this relationship. Because that’s exactly what it is.
A relationship.
My gaze stays locked on her as she takes her position. Music continues to play through the sound system. She rises onto her toes, the muscles in her calves and thighs bunching before she leaps gracefully across the floor. Her body bends like a willow branch as her movements turn sweeping. She uses every bit of space available to her and is poetry in motion.
I’m mesmerized by the sight.
When she lifts one leg, grabbing her toes with her fingers in a move that resembles the splits, I just about come all over myself.
My dick is so damn hard as it throbs painfully in my joggers.
The way she leaps, soaring through the air, looks effortless.
It’s not. I’ve watched her perfect the movement over the years through grueling hours of practice. Until every line of her body is positioned the way she wants it.
Her head tips back as she arches her spine. Each limb is elongated, reaching outward. If I could take a mental snapshot to keep with me forever, it would be the way she looks right now in this moment. Not a stitch of clothing to hide her beauty as she pushes herself to the physical limit.
She’s absolutely stunning.
The way she contorts her body, forcing it into positions that are in no way natural is impressive. She’s so damn flexible. The faraway look in her eyes tells me that her mind is already floating. She’s lost in the movement, absorbing the musical notes, using them to create something beautiful. Emotion flashes across her face as if she’s in the middle of telling a deeply personal story.
Everything inside me pulses with need. It’s like being ripped apart only to be put back together again.
As the last notes reverberate throughout the air, she folds over, the graceful length of her spine on display as she holds the position. Even from here, I see the way her ribcage contracts and expands with each labored breath.
“Come here,” I growl. My voice sounds as if it’s been roughed up by sandpaper.
A second or two ticks by before she breaks the pose and lifts her head just enough for her blue-gray eyes to fasten onto mine. Something sizzles in the charged air between us, and I’m slammed with a fierceness of emotion I’ve never experienced before.
Actually, that’s a lie. These feelings have been brewing between us for a long time.
Years.
Only now am I willing to slap a label on them.
She pads quietly across the space that separates us. When she’s within striking distance, my fingers lock around hers, and I tug her onto my lap. My hands stroke up the bare flesh of her slender back before sliding down again to the rounded curve of her ass, squeezing the taut muscle as my lips crash onto hers. She immediately opens so our tongues can tangle. And just like always, it’s frenzied.