Chapter Seven
Zoe
I wear a black dress with my knees bare and, for some perverse reason, I want him to reach over and put his hand on one. He hasn’t touched me since we parted ways in the game room. At first I was relieved, but now I’m not. Despite the danger that comes with getting close to him, I crave his touch. I think I put my hand on his chest earlier to provoke a physical response. I didn’t get it. His hand didn’t come up to cover mine. He didn’t lean in. Or reach out.
I glance at his hand where it rests on the gearshift. Those strong fingers were inside me last night. Deep inside my core, I throb from the memory.
“What’s on your mind, beautiful?”
How wrong is it that my heart races from him calling me beautiful? From the sound of his voice and the way the word rolls off his tongue? Nothing was ever so sexy. No word ever reached inside me and made me burn the way that one from him does.
I turn my head to look at him. He glances at me and then back at the road.
I search for something to say, something other than the truth. “I’m thinking about the show.”
“Do you get nervous before a performance?”
“Yes,” I say and that is the truth. “It’s the good kind of nervous.”
“How’s that?” he asks.
I love everything about the way he asks that question, especially the intent way he looks at me. Performing is my life. Or at least I hope to make it my life, so I’m happy anytime someone seems interested in my dancing. This time means more because Connor McCann’s not known for doing the boyfriend thing. He and his closest friends hook up with women frequently, and apparently in some kinky ways that leave me breathlessly curious, but I don’t get the sense that asking about a girl’s hopes and dreams plays into those scenarios often, or at all. The way he asks me questions makes me feel special; it feels like I matter to him and since he’s so powerful, so coveted, and normally so aloof, that’s a rush.
I drag my mind back to his question about why I think nervousness can be a good thing.
“It heightens my energy and attention. I feel like I’m better on stage when I’m nervous before I step out.”
“Nervous anticipation makes sex better for some girls, too,” he says, the corner of his mouth tipping up in a sexy smile.
I’m instantly transported to memories of being over his lap, of the spanking, of the way my heart raced, and of how fast and hard I came when he fucked me afterward. My face flushes, and I squeeze my knees together.
He pulls into a parking spot right near the backstage door. “Stay there until I open your door,” he says. C gets out and checks around the corner of the building, then returns. He opens my door and steps back.
I slide out, shoving my skirt down when my feet are on the pavement. I reach for my bag, but his hand is faster.
“I’ve got this for you,” he says, shutting the SUV’s door and motioning for me to head into the theater.
His hand’s on the small of my back as we walk down the hall. I know I should walk faster to put some distance between us so people don’t get the idea that we’re together, but the warmth of his hand and the way it sends a thrill through me won’t let me.
“I’m in here,” I say, nodding to the door of the big group dressing room.
“Nah,” he says, catching my arm. “Come with me.”
“Hey, Mr. McCann,” someone says and once that happens, everyone that we pass follows suit in greeting him and pressing against the wall so he can pass without adjusting his path.
He stops at a door that’s been locked since we started rehearsals. He unlocks it. The single dressing room is clearly meant for a star. The vanity table is cream lacquer, there’s a small chandelier overhead, and rose and taupe silk pillows rest on a chocolate couch. A taupe rug covers a section of the marble floor. A giant spray of cream and pink roses with lavender and baby’s breath rests on the dressing table in a stout vase. They’re the flowers he promised me, I realize, and I can’t help but walk over to smell them. They’re beautiful, elegant, and as luxe as the place.
“I don’t know what to say.”
“You don’t need to say anything. This is the star’s dressing room. You’re the star. You should’ve been in here all along.”
I can’t suppress my smile. “Thank you.”
