Unlike the others, room number five is packed to the rafters. Women of all shapes and sizes take up space on the floor, each wearing various degrees of clothing. Some wear tight leggings and crop tops, others skin-tight shorts and lace bralettes. A few are covered only by a leotard and tights. The one thing they all have in common is the pairs of killer heels donning their feet. Heels, which, are in the air right now as the group of women press their backs into the hardwood floor, and open their legs wide in a lewd dance portrayal of—
“Arch those backs!”
I drag my eyes from the group of scantily clad women to the sound of the commanding voice who can only be the leader of the dance class.
My cock twitches in my shorts at the sight of her.
Unlike the women writhing about on the floor, the dance instructor stands, giving me an unobstructed view. She wears a black crop top, black shorts so tight they appear painted on her body, and a matching black pair of stiletto heels. A sheet of glossy black hair cascades down her back as she walks around the room – if you can even call the way her legs move walking… it’s more like a fucking strut – and modifies the tilt of one girl’s lower body.
When she straightens back up, her eyes meet mine through the thin windowpane and even metres away from each other, I’m sure I can see her eyes narrow.
She says something to her class, but I can’t make out the words.
I watch her grin at one of the girls writhing about the dancefloor, tipping her head towards the hallway, before she’s striding across the space, ripping open and door and—
“Can I ask what you’re doing staring into the window of my dance class?”
The ‘I take no shit’ tone to her voice makes my cock twitch again. As does the cross of her arms, an angry slash upon her body. She’s slim – tight and toned, probably from being a dance instructor – but with a slight flare to her hips…
“Hm?”
I take in the questioning raise of her groomed eyebrows, the narrowing of her sky-blue eyes which are so bright compared to her dark hair and the all black outfit she wears.
“I’m going to call security if you don’t give me an answer as to why you’re perving—”
“I wasn’t perving.” I find my voice. “I’m starting work here on Monday morning, so I’m touring the place—”
“You work here?” she asks, the ball of her right foot tapping the floor in time with the loud music still coming from her dance room.
I nod, fingers brushing the brim of my snapback. “As of Monday.”
“Are you going to be teaching classes?” she asks, eyes dipping down the length of me and rising back to my face.
I shake my head, feeling my lips quirk up a teeny bit at the thought of me teaching a fucking dance class. I’d be terrible.
“I’m a PT.”
“Oh.”
My eyes fix on the round ‘o’ her lips make. They look like they’d feel good around my coc—
“I guess I’ll be seeing you around then,” she says, tone unreadable.
I can’t decide if she thinks that’s a good thing or a bad one, which only serves to make the thrill of the chase skitter through me at a rapid rate.
“Come Monday you will.”
When she doesn’t say another word, I turn on my heel to head back towards Michael and the main section of the gym. Glancing over my shoulder before I’m fully out of her sight, I raise my hand in a silent wave. She doesn’t wave back, those arms of hers still crossed over her body, but she watches me leave, never taking her eyes from me until I’m disappearing through the door.
Chapter 2
Giselle
Ikeep my arms crossed over my body until the tall, dark haired man, with the obscenely green eyes who I’d caught peeking in the window of my high intensity dance class, disappears from my sight.
I’m not quite sure what to make of what just happened.
“Everything okay?” one of my regular girls, breathless from dancing, asks when I slip back into the class and head straight over to the dock in which I keep my phone.
