Page 61 of Barre Fight
ChapterSixteen
Ivy was the first on her feet when the curtain fell on Tuesday night. Justin and Alice had been good on opening night, and excellent on Sunday, but tonight they had managed to surpass excellent and outstanding and any other superlative she or theTimescould come up with. Tonight they had been… transcendent. Their lifts had been steady, their lines perfect, their movements fluid and flawless. Half the time it seemed as though they were making the music with their bodies, not simply moving to it. It was the best Ivy had ever seen them perform on this or any stage.
Her fellow audience members obviously agreed, because a split second after Ivy stood, the rest of the house rose and burst into applause, which only grew louder when the curtain rose and Alice and Justin stepped to the front of the stage and bowed. It went on and on, and Ivy beamed with victory and pride as the curtain dropped and rose for two curtain calls. On the second one, she watched with barely concealed pleasure as Justin turned his head towards the place where he knew she was sitting and seemed to search for her. She knew he couldn’t see her, but something about the fact that he wanted to made herbreath catch a little in her throat. A few seats behind her, someone wolf whistled, and she jumped at the sound, then grinned wider.
Eventually, the curtain fell for the last time and the applause died out, and Ivy grabbed her coat and slipped out of her row as the house lights dimmed for the next piece. She wasn’t staying until the final curtain tonight. She was meeting Justin at the stage door and taking him straight back to the hotel.
If anyone asked, he could say it was because he was tired from a full day of sightseeing before tonight’s performance. Which he probably was: after company class, they’d spent the morning exploring the Lower East Side on a Jewish history walking tour, and the afternoon at the Neue Galerie for Austrian art. By the end of the day, Ivy’s feet ached and Justin had needed a power nap before heading to the theater to eat, dress, and warm up. But Ivy was counting on a second wind for them both, followed by something of a late night. They could always sleep late tomorrow morning, leave the adjoining door ajar like they had last night. She could slip out and bring back bagels and coffee again. Surely New York had some other breakfast foods to offer, but at the rate they were going, they were never going to find out.
The stage door swung open, and Justin appeared, his hair still cemented into place the way it had been on stage. Ivy couldn’t stop the grin that spread across her face at the sight of him, or the little flip of anticipation and excitement in her stomach when he returned it. He must have been rushing in the dressing room, because he hadn’t totally removed all his eyeliner, and it made his eyes look more brown than hazel under the light that hung over the stage door.
“How were we?” he asked, and she shook her head.
“You know damn well you were fantastic. I think the multiple curtain calls were a bit of a giveaway.”
“I know, but I still want to hear you say it,” he said, pulling her in and planting a kiss on her mouth. She could taste the remnants of his lipstick and the scented face wipes he’d used to take it off. Hastily, she broke the kiss and looked around, glancing furtively up the stairs to the plaza.
“Everyone’s inside,” he reassured her. “But let’s go, it’s freezing.”
“Oh?” she said archly, as they climbed the stairs and made their way across the plaza towards Broadway. “Any ideas about how we can warm up?”
Justin snaked an arm around her and squeezed her waist through her coat, his firm touch full of promise and desire. “Oh, only a few dozen.”
This time, they didn’t wait until the door of room 663 had closed behind them. The lift doors had barely slid shut before Justin pushed her against the wall, his hand back on her waist and the other one unwrapping her scarf so he could get his mouth on her neck, the press of his cold lips on her warm skin making her gasp in surprise and pull him harder against her.
“There’s a camera,” she said quickly.
“Trust me, they’ve seen worse,” he growled against her neck, and she giggled and pulled her scarf all the way off.
“I thought about this all day,” he said between hot, needy kisses that made her skin feel warm and sensitive wherever his mouth touched, the sensation spreading across her body until her clothes felt too tight and confining to keep them on for another second. She fumbled with the buttons of his coat, hoping distantly that no other guests were going to call the lift before they made it to floor 6.
“Then maybe tomorrow we should do this all day,” she sighed.
He lifted his head and frowned. “And miss out on museums and jazz clubs and bagels and musicals? Never.”
“You’d love to miss out on musicals,” she pointed out, undoing the last of his buttons and slipping her hands under his coat.
“True,” he said, kissing her jaw and sliding his hand into her hair. She stifled a moan and desire gathered between her legs, pulsing hot and insistent. They were technically still in public. All she wanted was to reach the privacy of their room so she could do some of the dozens of things Justin had in mind. Or possibly all of them.
Finally the lift dinged and the doors slid open, and Ivy all but ran down the hall, fumbling in her purse for her room key as they went. Her hand shook as she opened the door, and a second later her purse was on the floor and Justin had scooped her up. It wasn’t the kind of graceful choreography he’d performed on stage tonight; she yelped in surprise, and clumsily wrapped her legs around him as he carried her over to the bed. Instead of dropping her onto it, though, he held her there, giving her a moment to wind her arms around his neck and settle her body against his. He groaned slightly as she fitted herself snugly against his hardening cock.
“Did you buy?—”
“Yes,” she said, rolling her hips just for the pleasure of hearing him groan like that again. “While you were warming up.”
Shortly after Peter had begun the traditional light pre-show class that evening, she’d left the theater and ducked into a nearby pharmacy, where she’d bought condoms and lube. They’d come close to throwing caution to the wind last night, but even though she was on the pill, she didn’t want to take any unnecessary risks. Tonight, though…
Justin lowered her onto her back on the bed and followed her down. She kept her arms looped around his neck so she could pull his face to hers and taste his mouth again.
“I probably need to shower,” he said, between feverish kisses. “I ran out of the theater without one.”
“No worries,” she replied, nipping at his lower lip and doubting that he’d ever actually make it to the bathroom.
“Do you want to join me?”
Ivy stopped kissing him reluctantly and looked up at him. His hair was still rigidly tidy, and she couldn’t resist the urge to run her hand through it and muss it up. He leaned into her hand as she ran her fingers through the stiff, tacky strands, loosening them until he looked more like himself.
“I’m not really a fan of shower sex,” she said. “It’s always better in theory than in practice, you know?” She also didn’t want him to slip and break a wrist right in the middle of the tour. How would they explain that one to Peter?
