Rush - Page 5

Maybe in here, though, I can still dance. When there’s no one watching. When there’s only me. I want to feel that joy again.

The joy that Striker took from me.

I check the time and then get to my feet. I’ve got thirty minutes before I have to be at work. Being a waitress isn’t so bad. In fact, it’s quite fun when people I like are working. I wish the manager didn’t seem to have it in for me, though. I was late once, two months ago, and she hasn’t forgiven me for that.

I put on music and go through some of my old choreography, enjoying the stretch of the elongated moves and the glorious blur of the spins. Now, dancing is just something that I do for me, in private. This studio is mostly used for barre classes and ballet lessons, but at this time of day, it’s always empty.

At first I didn’t read the comments on the Itch Scratch video, afraid of what I might see. Finally, after Jasminta assured me it was safe, I scrolled down, breaking out into a cold sweat as I did so, remembering all the hate I got after the incident with Palatine. But it turns out she was right, and I had nothing to be afraid of.

I stan two queens!!!

This dance is amazing and YOU GUYS ARE AMAZING.

These moves are cleaannnnnnnn.

It’s wonderful to read people saying nice things about me online, even indirectly. Even if the praise is really for Itch Scratch and no one knows the choreography they’re dancing to is mine.

I move into fourth position and lift my right leg to passé and spin on the ball of my foot, keeping my eyes focused on a spot by the door as I turn, whipping my head around at the last second so I don’t get dizzy. I keep the pirouettes going on as long as I can. Four turns. Five turns. Up on the ball of my foot. Down. Up again. My muscles burn.

A large figure moves into the doorway right where I’m focused. Even moving at the speed I am, I know he’s not a dancer. In fact, something about him reminds me of Striker Jones and I panic, stumble and fall to one knee, cracking it painfully on the polished floor.

The stranger shifts his weight like he’s about to come into the studio and help me up. I get to my feet, my face flooding with color as I start to turn away. “This is a private studio.”

“I’m looking for Dree North.” His voice is deep and precise.

Panic plunges through me. No one looks for me these days, except to tell me I’m a bitch or a druggie, and even that’s been happening less and less lately. “Why?”

He points his sunglasses at me. “It’s you, isn’t it?” Most people talk carelessly, but there’s not one scrap of a syllable that falls from his lips that’s not perfectly formed.

When I don’t reply, he strides toward me, long, slow paces that eat up the space between us. His gray suit is fitted to his huge shoulders, and he wears a V-neck T-shirt that shows off several inches of muscular chest and clings to his tapered hips. For such a big man he moves with grace. There are silver rings on his fingers, and his hair is silver, too, long and carelessly swept back. Dyed, I’m guessing, because he’s only thirty or so.

What really snares my attention are his eyes. One is gray, and the other is vivid violet. The effect is unsettling, like he’s not of this world. It’s not just that he’s confident or even sexier in the flesh than he is in pictures. He’s got something about him. An energy.

Big dick energy.

That swagger a man has because he’s packing heat down there. I have to work hard to keep my eyes from straying down his body and checking exactly what those tight pants are hugging.

He tucks his sunglasses into his jacket pocket, mismatched eyes narrowed with irritation. “Do you know how fucking hard you are to find?”

I tilt my head back to look him in the face. His very handsome, sculpted face. I want to pretend I don’t know who he is, but I know exactly who he is. I have a creeping sense of dread why Rush Osman of Saint Cyprian is trying to find me, and I’d rather he was here to call me a druggie bitch.

“Do you have a minute to talk about a project?” He doesn’t give me a chance to answer. “I’m with a band. We’re looking to do something fresh with our next single. It’s a new sound for us and I want a video that’s entirely different to anything we’ve done before.”

I wait for him to add April Fool’s, even though it’s May.

Tags: Brianna Hale Erotic
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