Might as well enjoy life while he could.
He turned and drew her toward one of two unclaimed frosted-glass platforms. He'd never been in this room before, but by the light and shadows pouring over the couple still rocking another glass shelf above, the sight was undeniably provocative. Perfect for a show.
The glass shelf was deep and wide with plenty of space for a couple to maneuver safely. Still, when he pressed the controls, he only lifted the glass five feet, roughly eye level for the spectators on their own stationary platforms circling the room.
Coldplay's “Magic” filled the space as the floor moved smoothly and slowly beneath their feet. Troy faced Giselle, threaded their fingers and lifted their joined hands overhead, stretching her beautiful body for everyone to see. And as they turned a slow circle, he scanned her for the first time in seven long years, taking in every sexy curve and taut plane.
Simply stunning. Small and utterly feminine, she'd turned from a girl into a woman over the years with a luscious fullness to her breasts, a deeper roundness to her hips. He could see the work she'd put into her voice with a strong core in her tight waist and flat abs. He could see she was still a girly-girl by the pink satin thong and bra lined with a heavy helping of sexy black lace.
The mere act of sliding his gaze over her beautiful body made a distant but consuming ache build deep in his body, one that encompassed every part of him-body and soul.
The pain sparked anger. A complex, self-protective, brooding anger. He'd spent seven years feeling helpless when it came to his lingering feelings for Giselle. Seven years feeling out of control and tossed aside and worthless whenever he thought of her.
All he wanted was release from that haunting grip. Giving Giselle what she was looking for tonight might just end up giving him what he needed most as well-closure. She wouldn't feel or taste as good as he remembered. She wouldn't fill the emptiness in his soul as she once had. He'd give her the experience she needed to succeed. He'd have one last chance to feel her again. Just feel her and release her. Feel her, release her, and move on.
It all seemed like a pretty fair deal.
He stopped with Giselle on the outside of the platform, closest to the audience. Her gaze cut toward the cluster of couples gathering for the show. Even the pair on the higher platform moved lower for a better view.
He lowered her arms and released one hand to take her chin between his fingers, bringing her gaze back to his. For someone who breezily captivated thousands of fans per concert, her discomfort both surprised and pleased him. Here in this moment, she still needed him-for support, for guidance, for security. At one time, being needed by Giselle had been his life's sole purpose. Now, it gave his otherwise full life a spark that had been missing since she walked away.
“Look at me.” He cupped her cheek, holding her gaze to his. “From this point forward, it's just you and me, and our job is to put on a show. We are performers. Those people are our audience. And you will deliver, because you're a professional. Right?”
She pressed her lips together, but her gaze focused, her mind's eye homing in on the goal. “Right.”
“Good girl.” He slid his hands to her waist. “Face the people you're here to entertain.”
She pulled her lower lip between her teeth. The sight made him ravenous, but he planned on getting out of here tonight without ever tasting her again. Because that might be the one thing that could drag him under.
When she didn't move, he said, “Take control of that anxiety, and turn.”
When she obeyed. Troy circled her wrists, dragged her hands to the edge of the clear railing, and curved her fingers over the slim edge. “They're all here to see you, Goldilocks,” he murmured at her ear and fitted his rigid cock to the low curve of her spine.
The perfect fit made his chest cave a little. Her scent filled his head, the soft floral tease of a perfume called Forever. The perfume Troy bought for her. The first perfume she'd ever worn. The fact that she still wore it tore at something deep inside him.
“Let's give them what they came for.” He started by stroking every inch of her body.
His hands roamed up her arms, over her shoulders, and down her back. By the time he'd wrapped his arms around her waist, she was writhing to his touch and in time to the music…just like he remembered. Her soft moans electrified his skin and flooded his cock…just like he remembered. And when he slid his hands to her tits, cupping and squeezing the perfect mounds beneath the silk, her nipples puckered, her back arched, and her ass rubbed his cock…just like he fucking remembered.
I'm so screwed.
He forced the thought away. He was in control here. He knew this would be over as quickly as it began. And he would be the one to walk away this time.
Lowering his hands to her hips, he stroked her tight, perfect ass. Let his hands fall down the backs of her thighs, then whisper up the front. The heat of her pussy touched his hands long before he reached that sweet spot, and when he stroked her lightly, her hips rocked into the touch.
The movement consumed Troy's gut with fire and made him hungry. Starved. Greedy in a way he hadn't been in years. Controlling this was going to be harder than he thought.
“Let your mind go,” he whispered and dropped a kiss to her shoulder. “Focus on the feeling in your body.”
He lifted her arms overhead again, but pulled them back to circle his neck. As she moved with the position, her ass rubbed his cock. Heat washed his lower body, and he moaned into her ear. “Rock me, baby,” he said with a gentle thrust against her. “Lose yourself in the music. Lose yourself in the show.”
Her fingers dug deep into his hair, and she swayed against his groin. Troy's air released on a growl of deep satisfaction, and he let his teeth settle into the flesh at the base of her neck. Her gasp confirmed that bite of pain still excited her.
Her head dropped back against his shoulder, and her body rocked and retreated. Again. And again. And again. The thrill swamped Troy's brain with a burst of white light.
“Oh yeah, give me more.” He slid his hands down her arms, her sides, stroked the swell of her breasts, then roamed her taut abdomen. She was perfect. So fucking perfect. Smooth, warm, tight, sweet. And this wasn't enough. Not nearly enough. Dammit. Dammit. “I want it all. Give me all you've got. Feel me. Smell me. See me in your mind's eye. Imagine watching us grind from the floor. Commit it all to memory.”
Her soft sound of heightened pleasure clawed at his gut. He lowered his lips to