Total pages in book: 48
Estimated words: 44617 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 223(@200wpm)___ 178(@250wpm)___ 149(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 44617 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 223(@200wpm)___ 178(@250wpm)___ 149(@300wpm)
Why would there be something? the voice in my head scolded. You’re an eighteen year-old newbie. You think he’s never seen one of you before? Get real. Girls come to NYC every year with hopes of making it big, you’re nothing special, Laney.
I swallowed heavily, hanging my head. Shit, that was true, it wasn’t like I was a superstar or anything. I just happened to be the star of the day. Forget that, I was one of the stars of the day, there were four of us dancing in sync, and I’d been part of the group. So yeah, it had all been my imagination.
Swallowing heavily, slowly I changed my shoes, putting on a different pair of slippers as Miss Lane called us to order once more.
“One, two, three, one, two, three,” she chanted, leading the dancers through warm-ups as the piano plunked away. My muscles did all the motions, blood circulating normally, but my head was in the clouds. Because despite my best efforts, I couldn’t focus. Thorn Channing’s face kept reappearing in front of my eyes, distracting me from what I loved most in the world.
Laney, came the voice in my head. You gotta stop this. You can’t let a man hold you back from your dreams. You gotta focus, focus, focus, you have a scholarship and it’s not forever.
Right. So I pushed the distractions out of the way and danced, putting my all into the practice session.
But when break came, I was never so grateful. Retreating into a corner, I grabbed my water bottle, taking a sip as Miss Lane walked over. Oh god, what was she going to say? That I’d acted really weird during this morning’s performance? That my warm-up moves were off, my body disconnected from my head? Ballet teachers don’t hesitate to chew you out, even if it’s in front of the crowd. Cowering inside, I waited for the hail of words to descend.
But instead, Miss Lane’s expression was curiously neutral, her voice detached.
“Laney,” she murmured. “Mr. Channing has asked to see you in his office this afternoon.”
I stared at her blankly.
“I’m sorry?”
“You heard me. Mr. Channing has specifically requested a meeting with you. Three p.m.,” she said blandly. “I trust you know where his office is? Don’t be late.”
And with that, the woman glided away, leaving me dumbfounded. Why would the billionaire want to see me? Why would he want to talk with a girl who’d just joined his troupe not three months ago? I was nothing, less than a dust mite, just a shadow in the wings.
But then again, maybe he had felt it. Maybe it hadn’t been my imagination, those blue eyes searing my body, touching everywhere, caressing my belly, my nipples, and that sweet space between my thighs. Maybe, just maybe, Mr. Channing had felt the magic … and suddenly, I couldn’t wait to find out.
CHAPTER THREE
Thorn
Who had that girl been? The curvy one, the one with the ripe tits and soft, plush ass? Because most of the girls in the troupe are undersize, gristly and sinewy. Don’t get me wrong, these chicks can kick holes in fences, they’re athletes. But ballet favors a certain body type, and that’s scrawny.
It’s too bad because I’m fuckin’ hate skeletons with chicken legs and bony arms. Sure, I bang it because if it’s on the table, then why not? But lately, it’s fucking sucked. The sessions with those girls last night had been bad, my mind wandering off even as I dicked those females hard. Not that they noticed.
“Unnnh Thorn!” Martha / Marta cried. “Give it to me!”
“Mmmm,” moaned Minky / Pinky. “Yeah, just like that.”
So it’s almost mechanical now. Girl comes, splits those emaciated legs, and I’m in. I’m a well-oiled machine and there’s nothing more.
But the female this morning had caught my eye. Not just because she had a body unlike the others, but because she danced with an energy all her own. The brunette threw herself into the music, swaying this way and that, arching beautifully, a prima ballerina in the making.
Sure, she was doing all the same moves as the other girls, they were performing a routine after all. But this female stood out. The way her body arced and curved, the way every feeling was visible, every emotion flowing about her in a magical aura.
And shit, but I ate it up. It’s been a long time since I saw something this amazing, it’s been a long time since any dancer has made my body and soul come awake. But this female had done it, those big brown eyes met mine a few times during the routine, and the contact was electric. The air sizzled between us, you could almost smell the burn, the sense that something incredible was gonna happen.
So I did what I often do, and put in a request to speak with our new charge in private. Miss Lane’s expression didn’t change as I growled.