Page 117 of Frozen Hearts
Moreover, when I asked him how much I owed him, he told me not to worry about it. Of course, I have no intention of owing Logan Astor—or any of them—anything, so I fully intend to pay back whatever amount it cost.
Still, the fact he actually sorted out the problem and didn’t hang me out to dry is a huge weight off my shoulders.
“Well?” Tara asks as I step into the dressing room. “Please tell me something finally happened with that cutie?”
“Which one?” I ask distractedly as I move to my usual dresser and begin getting ready.
“Which one, she says.” Tara cackles. “I was referencing the cutie who has been picking you up every night, but if something happened with Mysterious and Dangerous, then I’m all for that too.”
“Nothing has happened with either of them. Turns out they're both giant dickheads.” Because despite Logan’s sweet gesture today, it doesn’t make up for everything he has done.
I can feel her eyes on me before her arms wrap around me from behind. “I’m sorry. Are you okay?”
I smile at her through the mirror. “I’m fine. Just tired.”
She nods knowingly. “Well, if you need a break from the humdrum, hit me up. We can go out for a girls’ night.”
“Sounds good,” I respond, knowing I won’t take her up on the offer. I can’t, even if I wanted to. I can’t imagine Grayson being okay if I ask him for a night off from being tortured.
We chatter—well, Tara mostly chatters—while we change into sparkly gold dresses and heels for tonight’s performance before heading onto the floor. The lights are off above the stage as we hurry up the steps and into position, forming a circle with all of our toes in the center and hands perched on one knee.
Usually, I focus solely on the other dancers, but tonight I can’t help looking out into the room. I glance over the numerous patrons staring expectantly at the stage until I find Royce tucked away in the back corner. He’s nearly invisible, shrouded in darkness. However, his focus is zeroed in on me, and I suck in a gasp as our gazes collide. I have no idea how he even sees me. We can’t be more than black shadows to the rest of the club, and yet, he’s looking directly at me.
It’s exhilarating and electrifying, igniting a subtle tingle, a spark of recognition in my core that slowly penetrates outward, taking over my body one inch at a time.
I’m still staring at him when the bright lights burst to life, dazzling me as the opening notes ofVideo Phoneby Beyoncé and Lady Gaga play out around the club and each of us begin clicking our fingers in time to the music.
The opening beat builds to a crescendo before we spin out and our performance really gets underway. The entire time, my focus remains on Royce. On the way his riveted gaze is glued to mine. Dancing is when I feel most empowered, but beneath the weight of his penetrating stare, I feel liberated of my inhibitions. Emboldened as I embrace the potency of my own allure. A newfound confidence blooms, fueled by the knowledge that Royce craves my presence as much as I’m beginning to relish his.
It’s as though he possesses the ability to see beyond the surface as he strips away my layers of doubt and insecurity until he has a first-row seat to the deepest parts of my soul.
I’m exposed. Vulnerable. A live wire with the plastic casing pulled back.
And yet, I’m not afraid. His icy-blue eyes don’t hurt as they caress my skin. Instead, it’s like a warm embrace, awakening my dormant desire and passion.
Every cell in my body responds to his gaze. I dance on autopilot, not hearing a single word of the song. The club, the stage, the other dancers… all of it fades away until there is only me and him.
Every single one of my senses is held captive by him.Ownedby him.
I’m not dancing for those watching. I’m not even dancing for myself.
I’m dancing forhim.
By the time our performance comes to an end, I feel seen in a way I never have. I’m transformed as I step off the stage on shaky legs. Stripped bare and raw but also invigorated and unshackled.
That feeling only intensifies as the night wears on. With each performance, Royce’s probing gaze only grows more ardent until it sizzles along my skin. Desire becomes a palpable force between us, the chemistry crackling in the air. I don’t know how everyone in the room isn’t aware of it. We’re opposing magnets, drawing closer with every dance, as though our two souls are reaching out across the room to touch, to merge, to intertwine.
Our song is a dance of desire, a symphony of passion.
One that is sure to set me on fire and leave my ashes blowing in the wind after all is said and done.
The second my foot hits the bottom step after my last performance of the night, I’m pulled back into the shadows behind the stage as a hand clamps over my mouth. There’s a moment of panic, which quickly ebbs when Royce growls in my ear, “You drive me insane.”
He punctuates his point by grinding his crotch against my ass, and I feel the prominent outline of his hard dick. It’s like a spark to a flame, dousing me in desire and I melt against him, arching my back as I grind along his length.
He hisses in my ear, wrapping his lips around my earlobe and sucking it into his mouth until I whimper.
“Do you feel how fucking hard I am, James? I’ve been like this since the moment you stepped foot on that stage. You had me goddamn hypnotized. I wanted to drag you off that stage and into my lap, bend you over my knee and smack your ass until it’s raw for making me want you the way I do.”
