Total pages in book: 161
Estimated words: 149338 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 747(@200wpm)___ 597(@250wpm)___ 498(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 149338 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 747(@200wpm)___ 597(@250wpm)___ 498(@300wpm)
This man really was the Devil.
The more severe and intense the situation, the better he was at remaining in control. He thrived on it, and there I was willingly feeding it to him. I had only just met the man, and I would do anything for him to keep looking at me with those sinful, green eyes.
He looked right through me.
I swallowed hard as I stood, hanging on to the back of the chair for support. The cool air caused my already heightened skin to rouse. Our eyes stayed connected the entire time as he watched my every move, like he was trying to ingrain it into his memory. Grabbing my ballet CD from my purse, I steadily walked toward his receiver, even though my legs were shaking. With my back now turned to him, I shut my eyes for a few seconds, needing to steady my emotions that were yearning to get the best of me. Before I could give it another thought, I placed the CD into the player and pressed the arrow button.
The soft melody of the piano vibrated through the speakers, filling the space between us.
“This should be interesting,” he sarcastically stated.
I ignored his jab, letting the music calm my body like it always did. I would never be able to listen to this song again and not think of him. A part of me thought he wanted that.
Me thinking of him.
“I don’t have all fucking day. Tick tock, sweetheart.”
I took one last deep breath and turned to face him. Nothing had changed about him, and I didn’t understand why I expected him to. I shook away the thoughts. I was a performer, goddamn it. I had been doing this my entire life. This wasn’t any different. Just less clothes, but not by much.
Slowly, I inched my leg out to the side, stretching, pointing the toe of my sky-high heel. Accentuating my toned muscles from years of ballet training. I gradually leaned forward, sensually rubbing my hands down my thigh, to my knee, then down to my calf, grabbing onto my ankle. I aligned my torso along my leg, leisurely making my way back up. Never taking my lustful eyes off of him. My hand continued its assault up the side of my body as I spun to face away from his daunting eyes.
Glancing over my shoulder, I slowly worked my hips as my hands went for my shirt. Easing it up my torso, taking it over my head effortlessly. Bringing the small piece of fabric across my chest, and out to the side, dropping it at my feet.
I teasingly grinned as my leg développéd to the side, almost reaching my ear. Showing him just how flexible I was. My skirt inched up, bunching at my hips, revealing my barely-there panties. Keeping my leg up, I pivoted my body to face him once again. Slowly, I brought my leg down, hooking my thumbs into the waist of my skirt, gracefully working it off my hips down to my feet. Pointing my toe, I flicked the discarded clothing toward him.
He narrowed his dark, dilated eyes at me. Recognition with an intensity I had never seen before. A gleam in his eyes that needed to break through all the sadness and despair, all the things that ate away at him. His serious expression captivated me in a way I had never experienced before. Which only added to the plaguing emotions that were placed in between us.
I stood there exposed to the devil, in nothing but my bra and panties. He sat on the couch more bared to me, and he was fully clothed.
The irony was not lost on me.
I shut my eyes, needing to get lost in the music. Hoping like hell I would make it out of here alive, and I wasn’t talking physically. I listened to “Any Other Name,” the intensity of the instruments vibrated through my core, translating into the sexual movements I incorporated in my ballet. I couldn’t open my eyes, too scared of what I’d see.
The man I would find staring back at me.
I didn’t have to wonder for very long. I felt him before he even touched me, his dominating presence attacking my senses. The smell of him all around, overwhelming me in ways I couldn’t begin to describe. I felt his strong, callused fingers caressing all along my spine as if he was trying to make sure I was real. I hated to be touched. Even after all these years, I despised it.
Though in that precise moment.
In that second.
With him…
I wanted him to touch me everywhere.
My chest rose and fell with each brush of his fingers against my skin. He was standing behind me, moving my hair to the side. Lightly skimming his lips across my exposed flesh, igniting tingles all over my body. From the side of my neck, to my shoulders, awakening a craving deep within my core for the first time in my life.