“Eva,” he said, pinching my chin between his fingers and raising it to meet his eyes. But I avoided his gaze, looking everywhere but him. The stage, the velvet curtains, the dying lights. I couldn’t bear to see the judgment on his face. Not now, not while I was still feeling the effects of my first real orgasm, my legs feeling like jelly, my eyes wanting to close.
“Look at me.”
I tried to shake my head, but he growled. “Eva. Look at me. Now.”
Even though I didn’t want to, I listened, some part of me knowing that he was in charge here. That I could place control in his hands, and he would take good care of it—and me.
“What’s wrong?”
“I mean, I’m a little embarrassed.”
I tried to look down, but when his grip tightened, my eyes snapped back to his, some inner part of me knowing I needed to submit to him.
“Good girl,” he murmured, stroking my chin. “Now, what are you embarrassed about?”
“I completely lost control back there in front of you. I wanted to be… I don’t know.Sexy, or something.”
“Evangeline. That was incredibly sexy. You are so fucking perfect. Nothing you do could ever be unattractive to me.”
“But—”
“You. Are. Fucking. Perfect,” he said, eyes boring into me, letting me see the truth written plainly across his face. The honesty in his eyes.
“Alek,” I began.
“No, baby. You don’t seem to understand what I mean, so let me be clear: Ilikeyou. You falling apart on my fingers was the sexiest fucking thing I’ve ever seen in my life. I want to see it again many, many times, possibly even tonight if you’ll let me. I want to do things for you. I want to bring you flowers each time I take you to dinner, and I want to fuck you with your heels still on after. I want to meet your family, and I want you to meet mine—once I’m certain my mother won’t scare you off. I want to pick you up from your dance rehearsals, I want to be in the front row for every show, and I want to make you come after each one. And I want to learn everything about you, including the parts that you think aren’t sexy. Got it?”
For a moment, I couldn’t breathe. My lips parted on their own accord, and Alek swiped his thumb across my lower lip while my brain struggled to understand all of his words. It was as if someone had cracked open my chest and poured light straight into me without warning.
My thoughts tangled over each other, every carefully built belief about myself—that I wasn’t daring enough, wasn’t organized enough, wasn’t pretty enough, wasn’t perfect enough—fractured under the weight of his gaze. I felt exposed in a way that had nothing to do with my body, like he was seeing past the dancer, past the good girl, past the perfection I chased, straight into the messy, wanting center of me.
And the strangest part was that he liked what he saw.
I could feel my heart slowly beginning to belong to Alek. And I wasn’t sure I would ever be able to get it back.
“Got it,” I whispered.
“Good. Do you have anywhere to be?”
I thought of Jules, who was no doubt waiting impatiently by the phone, wanting to hear both about the auditions and when to pick me up. I sighed. “Unfortunately. When can I see you again?”
“Whenever you want, baby.”
Something warm spread inside of me, beginning in my heart and moving outward. Baby, solnyshka, Eva. I didn’t care what he called me as long as he called me his, too.
I smiled. “Okay. I’ll text you.”
He bent down and placed a quick kiss on my lips, his eyes crinkling in the corners. “Okay, Eva.”
Our bodies separated, albeit reluctantly. I slipped my tights on, then my skirt. Alek looked disappointed at my increase in clothing, and to be honest, so was I. But Jules wouldn’t have reacted well to me being late, especially if he learned it was because of a man. And I didn’t want him to ruin things for Alek and me before they’d even fully started.
Alek jotted his phone number down on a piece of paper, kissing my hand as he handed it over. Pocketing it, I smiled at him, waving shyly. “Bye, Alek.”
“Aleksandr,” he said.
“What?”
“My full name is Aleksandr. I figured you should know what you’ll be screaming later.”
