Page 69 of Ravaged By Lust

“Come on,” Bishop says, reaching out and taking my arm. “Dance with me.”

“Okay…”

And he pulls me off the couch. And I’m dancing with him.

Bishop doesn’t give a damn about what he looks like or how funny he looks trying to dance. So much so that it rubs off on me. I’m now dancing like him, wild and free.

He takes me by the hand and pulls me in close. His lips go to my ear and he’s whispering.

“Remember when we used to dance together in your room? Back when there were CDs?”

I laugh again. His hands wrap around my waist and brings our bodies together.

I’ve forgotten how much damn fun Bishop is. He knows how to make me laugh. He knows how to make me swoon.

His eyes are all over my body, and I like it.

He takes me by the hand and spins me on the spot. I giggle. And then he tugs me in close again, and I start to dance slowly. Seductively. I want him to see what he’s missing. I want to make him want me even more.

I want to tease him.

This is not a normal practice session, that’s for sure, and I don’t care.

29

BISHOP

I’m not lying when I say that Chloe is really fucking good. Like international rockstar good.

And I should know.

When Mickey turned to me in his office and said that I was to coach her for the performance, I was very skeptical. I saw the look in Chloe’s eyes. I knew there was a very low chance she would let me within ten yards of her. But she did. And - with a hell of a lot of encouragement on my end - she’s slowly beginning to open up to me.

I’m prepared to do whatever it takes.

Even awkward dance moves.

But her performance with the famous producer and his executive team is tomorrow. We have just one more session to get this right.

One more session with the girl I love.

Dancing with her yesterday made me realize that I don’t want these days to end. I want to stay with this girl. Forever.

Fucking hell.

That’s such a weird-ass thing for a rockstar who’s had every girl in the world froth at the mouth for me, isn’t it? I should be spoiled for choice and have no need for this girl from my small hometown. But it’s the truth. I don’t care about any other pussy. I just want Chloe Stoll back in my life. Permanently.

For today’s practice session, and last before her performance tomorrow, we’re at her place. Or, rather, the apartment of that weird guy she’s staying with.

Yeah, I’m jealous of a gay man.

“That was amazing,” I say to Chloe as she finishes playing a song on her new guitar I have not heard yet. “Really fucking good.”

How many times can I repeat that?

But she needs to hear all the praise she can hear, especially when it’s the truth.

We’re in her bedroom. Neither of us has admitted it, but we’re both having flashbacks to her bedroom seven years ago. All those nights I spent chasing down the neighborhood just to climb through her window. The nights we spent staying up until the birds heralded the dawn, just holding each other and talking. Making plans. Revealing our deepest secrets.