That’s how I feel every time she begs me with those eyes to hurt her, like I’m riding a wave of pure heat. I run my tongue along her lower lip. “You be sure to say it if something’s too much, because I want to push you hard, little girl.”
Her eyes spark with desire and interest as she anticipates what I’ll do to her next. Dree nestles into me, one of the rare times I’ve actually seen her relax, and I drink in the expression of peace on her face. “It’s going to get crazy busy here this week, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, it is. The next two weeks are going to be intense as hell. Just know I’ll be thinking about you even when I can’t see you.”
She smiles and runs her finger over the stubble on my jaw, but I don’t think she believes me.
That night, I fall asleep remembering the warmth of her in my arms and the blissed-out, post-sex expression in her eyes.
First thing in the morning, I meet Dree in the great hall for our rehearsal. Her hair is pinned in a bun and tied with a satin ribbon. Her footless tights are ballet pink and her white leotard is printed with tiny flowers.
She’s as businesslike as a colleague should be, and I don’t try and distract her by reminding her we’re more than that, even though it’s torture to be this close to her and not kiss.
We finish our warmup and start practice. Dree’s so focused on the moves that she doesn’t look at me, and there’s no connection between us. She’s still behaving like a choreographer, not my dance partner.
“You’re the Priestess, remember?” I murmur, lips close to hers. “You’ve got to look like you want me. You’re falling hard for me.” I don’t have to work hard to express that at all.
She squeezes her eyes shut and shakes her head. “Right. Of course. It’s been so long since I performed.”
We start from the top, and this time, her eyes meet mine and her touch softens, like a lover. I grasp her waist and pull her to me, turning slowly. There it is. The way she looks at me when she’s pinned beneath me. I love that look on her face. Perfect desire. Perfect surrender.
I set her down, and a moment later, she stumbles and I have to grab her so she doesn’t fall. Dree winces and pulls her hand from mine.
“Is it something I’m doing?” I ask.
“No, you’re nailing it, and it’s freaking me out.”
I pass my hand through my hair, feeling at a loss.
She shoots me a look through her lashes. “It’s the way you look at me when we’re alone, and for a moment, I think we are, and then I realize anyone could be watching us right now.”
I can’t feel bad that dancing with me makes her think of us together. We have a great connection, out here and in bed. We need to use it. “If the secrecy is bothering you, why don’t we just tell people we’re involved?”
Her mouth falls open. “But we’re not—we’re just—”
I stare at her, daring her to tell me we’re not involved. She might not be my girlfriend, but we’re more than colleagues. More than friends. I don’t care who knows. I want them to know. There are too many guys around here who like to stare at Dree in her tiny leotards and crop tops. If they know I’ve already staked my claim, they’ll back the fuck off. This is my house. My girl. My rules.
“It wouldn’t make things easier. Not for me,” she finished.
I give her my most charming smile. “Fine. Come on, let’s go again. Try not to freak out when I look at you like I want to throw you over my shoulder and carry you off. It’s just the way I feel.”
We run through the sequence with the lifts, and I draw her arched body up against my chest. Dree’s lost in the movements. I make a noise of approval deep in my throat. “Mm. Damn that felt good.”
“Yeah,” she whispers, her arms still around my neck, “Daddy.”
I groan and slant my mouth over hers. She started it. She opens her mouth to my tongue and I take the kiss I’ve been craving from her all morning.
“Thought you wanted to keep these practices professional,” I whisper, angling my head the other way.
She arches into me. “I can go back to freaking out if you prefer.”
“Fuck no. Let me ravish my priestess.” Not here, though. I glance around, and then grab her hand and pull her over to a side room, shoving through the door and closing it behind us. There’s nothing in here but some forgotten pieces of furniture.
Once I’ve thrown the leotard, tights and her underwear aside, I sit her on a side table. Kneeling on the floor before her, I spread her open, propping her feet on my shoulders.