Brutal Obsession (117)

So even though I’m rock-hard, I scoot back and give her room to get up.

“What are you doing?”

“Letting you go back to work,” I say with a shrug.

Her eyes narrow.

“What?” I gesture to the room. “I’d expect nothing less from you if I had to go.”

She crawls toward me. “Yeah, right,” she murmurs. She pushes me back, then unbuttons my jeans. I suck in a breath when she pulls the front of my pants and boxers down enough for my cock to emerge, and the air escapes in a ragged exhale when her pretty head descends over it.

Her mouth is hot and wet on me. I groan and suppress the urge to grab her hair and take over. This is her show… for now. My willpower will only go so far. She takes more of me in her mouth, and my abdomen tightens. She has a magic tongue, I think.

The tip of my cock touches the back of her throat, and she gags.

Fuck me twice.

“My self-control is dwindling,” I warn her.

She grips the base of my dick and uses it to help her mouth. Her hand slides down, cupping my balls, and I swear. My hips jerk, and I hit the back of her throat again. Then deeper.

Fucking fuck.

“Vi,” I mutter.

She ignores me and continues, sucking hard and flicking her tongue against the underside of the head. My balls tighten as her assault continues, and I watch in absolute fascination. She bobs up and down.

I wind my fingers through her hair, freeing it from the hair tie. I love her hair and the way it fans around her shoulders. It’s silky, too, against my skin. I press her deeper, and her throat works around me.

“Fuck, Vi.”

I pull out just enough for me to be in her mouth, not down her throat. I want her to taste me the way I taste her. On her tongue, overwhelming her senses. And when I do come, I hold her head steady. Bliss rocks through me, and I fight the urge to close my eyes. I need to see her. All of it.

She swallows. Her throat works, and she kisses the tip of my dick when she straightens back up. She’s definitely the first person to do that. I choke on my laugh. My cock has stopped throbbing, but I have a feeling I could be hard again in minutes. There’s just something about her that demands more, and my body wants to respond to it.

“That was hot,” she whispers, wiping her lower lip with her thumb.

“I’m going to fuck you into oblivion later,” I promise. I stand and help her to her feet, then tuck myself back in my pants. She straightens her leotard and collects her shorts. “But for now, I’m going to give you space to work.”

She smiles. “Thanks for hanging out with me today.”

I kiss her, then collect my things.

It’s surprisingly difficult to walk away from her. I make it all the way down the block before I cave and open my phone. I look up the ballet. Giselle. There are some recent videos from other ballet companies performing it on stage. One of the more popular videos is from just a month ago, and it’s a solo.

I click on it and wait for it to load. My annoyance picks up the longer it takes—hell, I don’t even know if I’m on the right path here. I’m completely winging it.

When it does load, the music is immediately familiar.

And what might be even worse? The dance is familiar. Especially when the music switches, the frenzy of the song picking up. It’s the same moves, as far as I can tell. The same choreography.

Where would she have learned that?

There is where she stumbled. Just at the end.

Something isn’t adding up here. Choreography she doesn’t have a reason to know, muscle memory. How long does it take for that sort of thing to stick? How many hours of practice would she have needed to do to cement it in her memory?

Even if her memory isn’t there.

I let out a ragged sigh and rub my face. I believe her when she says she doesn’t know how she knew it. But now it’s a mystery that will nag at me—so I’ll figure it out for both of us.

And I have a feeling that means digging more into her past than she’d want.

Whatever. I’m going to do it anyway.





52





VIOLET





Today is the day. I know it before I even open my eyes.

I barely slept last night. The anticipation was almost too great. Grey didn’t seem to mind that I kept rolling over, tossing and turning like my sleep problem was pillow-related. He was as awake as me, I think, holding me until I found a comfortable position.

Which lasted only an hour before I was shifting again.

At one point, probably close to three in the morning, he slid inside me and fucked me into a dream-like state. We both slept after that. But now, as I twist toward him and stretch out, reaching, I realize I’m alone.

His side of the bed is cold.

I sit up and press the blanket to my bare chest. His bedroom door is open.

Silence reigns through the house, but I still wait a moment, then slip out from under the covers. I find a Hawks sweatshirt, my panties and shorts, and pull everything on before I wander into the hall. Still nothing.

I brush my teeth, take care of business, and shake out my limbs. The nerves return with a crackle—not that they ever left. Grey’s disappearance just temporarily distracted me.

Crown Point Ballet is holding company auditions at nine o’clock. It means I’ll probably be there all day. But there will be plenty of time to stress about that… after I eat breakfast.