Page 23 of Nutcracker with Benefits
We walk through the steps, which I occasionally forget, but just like Nikita says, Nash is always there, ready to start again.
He’s so freaking patient with me.
The first time I nail the eight-count movement, Nikita bursts into applause, and I blush.
“Not so bad, right?” Nash says, his voice low with a hint of pride.
We do it three more times and then Nikita stops us. “Next move: the ocho.”
This step is way easier. It’s a step and rotate, step and rotate. “We couldn't learn this one first?” I grumble.
Nikita teaches us more complicated moves, adornos—embellishments—and combined with the confidence of the basic steps, the feel of Nash’s body next to mine, his eyes watching my movements, it’s more fun—and sexy as hell.
With a move called a caricias, I sweep one leg against the other. Nikita tells me to pay attention to Nash’s body, to watch his shoulders, feel his hips.
“The last thing I will teach you is the dip. Very sexy, you will like.”
Nikita and Nash show me the position, how we slide our legs out together and then I hook my leg over his. At first, it’s awkward, but then we practice and smooth it out.
“And then,” Nikita says, “you trust Nash. Feel his strength and his energy pushing you.”
We take the steps again. Five, six, seven, eight, and there is no one I trust more in the world than Nash, so I let myself go. My back arches over his arm, our hips still snapped together.
“Very good. And now, with the music.”
We do the routine from the top, taking the simple steps. I fudge a caricias or two, but Nash pulls it back together, and we get to the dip. The world is upside-down as the song comes to a dramatic end, and all I can see is our reflection in the mirror. Even upside-down, I can admire Nash’s focus, his concentration.
Then he looks up into the mirror, too, and smiles at me. It lights me up inside in a way I’ve never experienced before.
Slowly, Nash pulls me upright, my chest against his, his lips just at my line of sight. He still feels solid, like I could rely on him to be there. Anywhere I want to go, Nash will follow me.
With a sinking heart, I realize that’s not the way it is, and it’s not really what I want. It never will be what I want. Nash is his own man, with his own successes. He’s powerful. He’s stable.
He can’t follow me.
But tonight, I can follow him. Nash’s chest heaves against mine, my leg is around his hip, and I can feel his cock against me. His lips are right there. I want to kiss him and drag him back to his place and spend every last moment there until my flight.
As if reading my mind, Nash’s eyes are hooded and lusty. His lips part.
Clapping sounds, and Nash and I both blink. I’d completely forgotten that Nikita was here.
8
Nash
“Bravo,” Nikita claps, approaching us from the corner where she’d been watching. Clara startles, breaking our eye contact.
“You both did wonderfully. I told you he was a very good dancer, no?” Nikita nudges Clara with her elbow. I release Clara’s hand and take a step back.
“He is very good,” Clara says, laughter glimmering in her eyes when we glance at each other.
I enjoy dancing with Nikita, and those lessons all paid off. I felt confident, comfortable holding on Clara, teaching her the dance and guiding her.
But dancing with her was a whole other level. Nikita is sexy—I’d be lying if I denied it—but she’s not the one I want.
Clara is. And feeling her fall into my arms like that, feeling her trust me, the way our bodies talked and touched, lit me up inside.
None of our moves were particularly sexy, except for the dip, which presses our lower bodies together, but it was fun. It was work, too, and while the studio is kept chilly, my arms are shaky. I hope Clara didn’t feel it.
