It’s always disappointing that he doesn’t stay, but I get it. For both of us, our dance careers are the priority, and right now, we’re getting into our new rehearsal routines. I can’t fault him for that.
“Yeah, schedule is killer. I’m just glad I could squeeze in a visit. You have no idea how bad I’ve needed this.” He stands and tosses his shirt to the side. Every ridge and trimmed muscle is on full display. Blake’s body is beautiful and strong, and he knows it. Unzipping his jeans, he pulls them and his briefs off in one swoop before climbing with cat-like grace onto the bed. One hand gripping his erection, he tugs it from the base while I remove my bra and panties and join him on top of the comforter.
“Baby, look how hard you make me.” My skin flushes under the compliment. He clutches himself and gives a few more rough strokes. Leaning over to my nightstand, he opens it to grab a condom without even turning his attention from me. Ripping the foil packet, he puts it on with a devilish smirk on his face. “Come here.”
I gasp as he drags me to straddle his lap before bringing his palms to my breasts. My nipples pebble beneath his touch. Then his hands slip to my waist, guiding me onto his dick with a satisfied grunt. We’ve clearly gotten this choreography down pat.
“So good,” he hisses out.
I preen at his attention. Blake’s a principal dancer of one of the best ballet companies in the world and I am the one he’s with. When he looks at me, I’m not just some girl in the corps—not the baby’s breath meant to surround the roses. I’m the rose.
He holds on to me, head dropping back with each rise and fall of my body bringing him closer to the precipice. My leg aches, my hip straining in this position. I slow my movements, and Blake’s attention snaps to me.
“Sorry. I’m a bit sore from class today.” The last thing I want to do is mention my injury, so I try a different tactic. “Can we…switch?”
His chest heaves, and he gives my waist a little squeeze. “I’m so close. Don’t stop.”
I nod, splaying my hands across his pecs to support me. I’m stronger than the pain anyway. Both in dance and in here. All the screwups of class today drift away, replaced by this moment. The hurried eagerness of him responding to my body, his breathy pants, having him come undone from whatIdo to him.
“God, you’re so fucking amazing, baby. So fucking amazing. I’m c—” His neck strains, veins bulging as he grits out a pleasured groan.
Hip twinging in pain, I take a moment to catch my breath before I climb off of him.
“That was perfect,” he says, and moves to discard the used condom. Releasing a lazy sigh, he relaxes back onto the comforter, hands coming to his forehead. He smiles up at the ceiling, then his attention finds me again. “Was it good for you?”
I bite my lip as I hunt through the rumpled covers for my underwear.
“Of course.” It’s not a lie exactly. I always enjoy our times together, but I never come. Ever. Not with the few guys I’ve been with. Part of me wonders if I’m just not wired for it. Somewomen aren’t. Every time I start to feel something, I always seem to lose the sensation. But that isn’t a big deal. Blake and I share a passion much more intimate than sex.Dance. It brought us together one steamy night post-rehearsal three years ago, and we’ve been doing this bedroom pas de deux ever since.
Unfortunately, it’s frowned upon to date within the company, so we kept our relationship under wraps, not wanting it to impact our respective roles or upcoming promotions. Even after the accident, we continued to keep it a secret since I was planning on returning to the Institute. Lark knows because she lives here. She’s up for promotion to principal, and Blake has some sway with the Institute’s board, so despite being annoyed by his presence, she puts up with it.
We haven’t talked about it officially, but now that I’m with a different company, we can finally go public. I’d planned on asking him about it tonight, but as he returns from the bathroom, already pulling his clothes on, the question sits on the tip of my tongue. I let it linger, unanswered, and before I realize it, he’s giving me a swift kiss goodnight on the cheek and heading for the door.
4
JOLIE
The window’s stuck.
Water is everywhere. It pours through the slat as I try one last attempt to roll it down. Leaning back, I slam the heel of my boot into it. The force of the water spilling in works against me, its chill pounding into my limbs. I reach behind me and shake Mom, who’s slumped over the steering wheel’s deflated airbag.
She doesn’t move. She just stares at me.
My pulse skyrockets. If I let reality sink in, I’ll stop moving. Stop fighting for breath. Soon the car will be fully submerged, taking me with it. I need to think of something. There isn’t much time.
But Mom…
Agony claws at my chest.
I can’t leave her. Not like this.
I pop the glove compartment, searching for something sharp to wedge open or crack the window. Items explode out from the force of the water. I grab a small window scraper and try to lever the window down. When that doesn’t work, I pound on it. The strength behind my strikes wanes and I’m desperatefor air. I lift my head just above the water, face squished against the ceiling, gasping.
With a final slosh, I’m submerged. Pain radiates through my chest—
Light catches my attention from outside.
Two bright eyes stare back at me, silvery with winking flecks of iridescent blues. They glitter like shattered glass, so beautiful that I can’t look away.
