Hooked 4 (Hooked #4)(17)

He stripped himself off my body and laid next to me in the sweat, beneath the hazy lights of the dance studio. I leaned over on my elbow to look at him, at his fine profile. I wanted to know everything about him. I wanted him to tell me everything he’d ever known; everything he’d ever said.

He breathed out slowly, his lips large. “Wow. That was incredible.”

I nodded, playing with his nipple, with his chest. He grinned and smacked me away playfully. “It was okay,” I answered.

I lay my head on his chest, feeling the beat-beat-beat of his heart as he began to fall into a sort of in-between sleep. I rocked him lightly. “Baby. Don’t fall asleep on the wooden floor, okay? Just. Just don’t.”

He grinned, biting his lips. “I can die here, now.”

“No you can’t,” I laughed, rising up, allowing my breasts to bounce a little bit. I was such a perky blonde before him, making his eyes dance. “You have to stay alive so we can do that again.”

He smiled at me and rose up quickly, tackling me back, like a lion. He kissed my neck, my cheek, my forehead. His body felt so warm, so soft above mine. “You’re a little spit-fire, aren’t you?”

I snapped my fingers and thought for a moment. “I think I just remembered something!” I pushed him off of me and ran to the side hallway, where my old office had been. I rummaged through an old closet of things I’d forgotten during the move. Sure enough, deep in the back, I found the bottle of wine my mother had gotten me when I’d opened the place more than a year ago.

I showed it to him as I rushed back into the dance studio, still naked. He was leaning on his hand, lying on his side. He nodded as I entered. “Now, we’re in business.”

I opened the bottle with an opener I still had hidden away in the old desk. I poured the wine into two small coffee cups, purchased from a Goodwill in Indiana, I was certain. We clinked our glasses together, there on the floor of the beautiful dance studio. I sipped the wine, watching as he sipped his. Our naked bodies gleamed beneath the lights of the studio.

“What do you think you’ll do?” he asked. “Do you think you’ll keep the old place, or come back to this dance studio?” He gestured around him.

I thought for a moment, peering around me. The other one had so much work to go and was further from my apartment. The other one was situated above a pub, which could draw problems. I did love it, in a way. But this old dance studio was my real home. It was where I felt most like myself. It was where I had conceived ideas for so many different dance recitals, for so many different things my life could be. It was also where, that evening, Drew and I had created something together. Something truly beautiful.


I tapped at the wood. “As long as we can clean up these sweaty floorboards, I think we’re in business.”

Drew laughed, shaking his head and drinking once more. “You’re irresistible, you know that?”

“That’s definitely not true,” I shot back, smiling. “I remember after the baseball game—after all that stuff—you didn’t call me for weeks!”

“Didn’t I?” Drew said, his eyes flashing. “Did you want me to call?”

I shrugged my shoulders, playing coy. “Of course not. I had many other things to do. People to see.” I smiled. I brought myself toward him, aligning my body with his. I could still feel his heart beating fast beneath my head. He sighed evenly.

“You know. I haven’t done the couple thing. Not for a long, long time. It broke my heart when I was in college,” Drew murmured. He kissed the back of my head.

“I didn’t know this about you,” I whispered back.

“Well. That’s why I’m not good at committing to people, you know. Not even to you. You who deserves it. But you’ve always been different, Molly. I sensed it the moment I met you in that coffee shop. You were the woman for me.”

I spun around, looking at him with wide eyes. What was he saying?

“I think I want to be in a couple with you.” He grabbed my hand and kissed it slowly, allowing his eyes to link with mine. I felt a stirring in my naked body; I felt my * grow wet once more. “If you want to be official. We can be official.”

I leaped upon him, kissing him passionately. I felt his tongue in my mouth, and I closed my eyes. After a moment, I pulled myself away, allowing myself to tell him: “I want to be official. I want to be with you.”

He nodded. He brought me on top of him, and I began to ride him, hot and heavy, allowing my breasts to bounce in his face. My body was at its prime; my * was wet and dripping. I felt his cock deep in my body, making me nearly scream as I humped him. We were together, even as we f*cked each other. We were together, even as we played together and teased each other. He was mine. And I was his.



CHAPTER NINE

The next morning, Drew and I rose early, at around six, and got dressed at the dance studio. We ran down the street to his apartment, donned running clothes, and trekked to the lake. It was the first day of November, and already Lake Michigan was looking grey, crispy. I grabbed his hand as I led him toward my favorite part of the trail.

We ran swiftly next to each other, pounding our legs onto the sand. He was fast—almost too fast—but I kept up with him. I watched as his supple back muscles lurched this way, then that as we ran together. I allowed my limbs to grow long, like a ballerina’s, beside him.