When I get out of the bath he rubs me down with a bath sheet, and we go back to bed. Propped on an elbow, he looks down at me and frowns. “Are your breasts bigger?”
“Yes. It’s the pill. The doctor said I might gain a pound or two.”
“Well, lucky me.” He pushes my breasts together and licks across both my nipples at once.
When he’s finished sucking my toes some more—definitely arousing—and then my clit, he tucks the blankets over us and we settle down to sleep.
The room is softly dark, but I can’t sleep so I watch Rufus instead. His face is sweet in repose, mouth slack, brow clear. I feel an ache as I look at him. There’s something burning deep in my chest, a little seed he planted the first time he looked deep into my eyes. The first time I saw him at the back of the theater. The first time he made me feel safe. It’s been growing quietly ever since, and I know it’s going to keep growing until it fills up every part of me. I want to tell him about it, but the thought of speaking it out loud is the most terrifying thing I’ve ever faced, so I keep it secret, and just let the burn grow.
* * *
The next day at the theater I stop and look at myself in the mirror in the middle of doing my makeup. I feel...different. It’s the sex and taking the pill and being someone’s sub and all the other crazy things that have been happening to me, but it’s more than that. I’m happy.
“Vain today, isn’t she?” says Vee, noticing me staring at myself. Alice and Dionne look up from their makeup and grin. Vee winks at me and goes back to applying her mascara.
“I had sex for the first time last night,” I blurt out, going red.
All three of them stare at me, and then simultaneously squeal and squash me into a group hug. I’m laughing so hard by the time they’re done t
easing that I have to reapply my pancake.
“Hey,” I say, when my foundation is done and I’m highlighting my cheekbones with silver glitter. “Do you guys ever get the feeling that your parents think it’s silly, what we do? Dancing, I mean?”
Dionne casts her eyes to the ceiling. “The feeling? They used to tell me so all the time when I began. I’ve told them not to say anything now if they can’t say anything nice.”
Vee thinks for a moment. “Not silly, exactly. Mine worry about what I’ll do for work if my knees give out tomorrow.” She snaps her eyeshadow closed. “I mean, I get it, they’re right in a way, but...”
“But we have to do it anyway,” I finish. “We can’t live our lives worrying about what-ifs and what other people think.”
“Yeah, exactly,” Alice pipes up.
I turn back to the mirror and start painting my lips with a slender lip brush. I was talking about dancing, but I realize that what I’ve said applies to my relationship with Rufus, as well. I doubt my parents would understand it, if they ever found out about the things we do, but it’s my choice.
If they ever found out, I think, and pull a horrified face at myself.
When I’m ready I leave the dressing room, and Rufus walks past me in the corridor on my way up to the stage. He’s carrying a toolbox and wearing work gloves, and when he notices me he holds up a hand and glances at his watch. Then he gives me a look and puts the toolbox down.
“We’ve got just enough time.” He pulls me into the cleaner’s storeroom and locks the door from the inside.
“Well, this is fancy,” I say, looking around at the mops and the huge bottles of cleaning fluids.
“Oh, does princess think she’s too good for a storeroom?”
I’m emboldened by the loss of my virginity, the confession of it to the other girls. “Yes,” I say, batting my eyelashes at him. My heart flutters high in my chest. I’ve never openly defied him just to see what he’ll do.
Rufus’s eyes turn flinty and he backs me against the wall. “Like hell you are. Put your foot on this shelf.”
For a second I just look at him, an insolent lift to my chin and a teasing smile on my lips, but then his eyes narrow and I do as I’m told. The acquiescence to his demands feels as good as his gloved hand pushing my thighs open. He pulls the other glove off with his teeth. I expect him to lick me or rub me like he usually does, but once he feels that I’m wet he slides two fingers inside me. When it was his cock all I could think of was how strange and tight it felt, but today it feels unexpectedly good as his fingers delve into me.
“Are you sore?” he asks, pressing deeper. I shake my head. He begins to rub firmly against the front wall and the sensation goes from good to amazing. The blood rushes to the surface of my skin.
“Holy crap,” I say, gripping his shoulders. “What’s that?”
“It’s your g-spot. Do you like it?”
I try to answer but he rubs harder and my head falls back. He tells me to touch myself and I do, and I come so hard that I start to yell and he has to put his gloved hand over my mouth. I smell plaster and rubber and plywood. When it ends he moves his hand away, and I don’t know why but I sink my teeth into the side of his hand.
I expect him to scold me, but he just grins. “That good, huh?”