Page 14 of Wounded Dance
This is what we need. To regroup, recenter, reconnect. It doesn’t matter who is against us. His dad. My parents. The show. Denham. We are strong. We fought to be here.
His lips are tender and calming. The kiss is easy, gentle, and reaffirming. I love this man. He loves me. We’ll get through this evening together. And whatever Denham will try in the coming days.
Blitz increases his pressure, becoming more demanding and urgent. He explores my mouth, his tongue engaging with mine.
After a moment, he breaks away. “I’m not sure I can keep my hands off you if we go on like this,” he says.
I reach for his fingers and slip them under my skirt. “Who says you have to?”
That’s enough for him. His mouth lands on mine again, pressing in, devouring me. He lifts me onto the bathroom counter. The fake marble is cold on my thighs, but I don’t flinch. I want this. The connection. In his home. With his parents waiting by the beer and casserole.
He reaches for my panties and jerks them down. His fingers slip into me and I moan against his mouth. My hips slide down to give him better access.
He grabs one ankle and shifts my foot up onto the counter. Now he can slip more deeply inside. I lean back, reveling in his expert work inside my body. The tension is gathering around his fingers and I focus on him, the pleasure radiating out from his touch.
He bends down, his mouth there now as well, and this sends me into a frenzy. I hold on to his head, mussing his perfect hair, until I feel my muscles contracting around him.
I cover my face to avoid making noise as the orgasm splinters through me. Blitz doesn’t ease up the pressure until I’ve come all the way down, then he rapidly unbuckles his jeans.
“Come here,” he softly growls, his hands moving beneath me to move him close.
“Don’t forget,” I remind him. I’ve started the pill but it’s still a week before we can be careless.
He nods and drags out his wallet to extract a condom.
When he’s taken care of that, I lead him inside, then he’s got me, burying himself deeply, lifting me to straddle him. I imagine a dance routine that includes this, and figure it’s certainly been done. I wonder if Blitz has ever seen such a dance show, but I’m not going to ask him now, as everything is intense. I feel lightheaded as he lifts me away and drives me down, plunging with an intensity of need that permeates most of our encounters.
His guttural groan precedes the pressure as he lets loose inside me. I cling to his head and shoulders, holding on as his body goes tense and gradually relaxes.
He breathes against my neck, holding on tightly. When he finally lets go and sets me back on the counter, he says, “Can we just sneak out the window and blow off the rest of this dinner?”
My mouth forms a smile as I straighten my skirt and hop down to retrieve my panties. “We’ll just decide that every time your father gets testy, we’ll come back here and make them wait on us again.”
“He’s totally going to figure out what we’re doing,” Blitz says as he buttons his jeans.
“Let him,” I say. “Maybe he’ll decide I’m as much of a tramp as Giselle and like me as much as her.”
Blitz takes my hand. “What did I do to deserve you?”
I kiss his knuckles. “Absolutely nothing. So start earning it.”
He laughs as he opens the door. “I will endeavor to do exactly that.”
Chapter 8
On Friday morning, we head to the academy for my own dance class. I only earned mypointeshoes a month ago, and I still have a long way to go before I can dance in them for any length of time. This is no time to slack off.
My original toe shoes were sprayed blue to match a costume for my surprise appearance onDance Blitz, but I have several pairs now to match my new leotards. Blitz has spoiled me since I moved into the hotel suite with him.
As so often happens in Texas, the weather took a dramatic turn overnight, the cold replaced with warmth. I can wear my leotard without a jacket, and Blitz is back in the sleeveless dance shirts I remember from our first days together.
He’s been taking my ballet class with Betsy, finally learning all the basics he skipped early in his training due to his father’s disapproval. It’s fun being there with him, especially now that the other girls are used to him. They’ve stopped giggling the whole time.
But when we approach the Dreamcatcher Dance Academy, we see something we didn’t expect.
Denham’s green truck.
“Shit,” Blitz says. “We should have known.” He stops the car a couple blocks away.
