CHAPTER 8
brIELLE
I’d love to say I wake up slowly and it’s like the start of some princess movie where the light is coming through the window in perfectly slated rays. Except it’s not how it is at all. Because I wake up suddenly and all at once.
When I jolt up in bed, I look around the room with wild, wide eyes. The silence is what hits me first, and then the emptiness.
I’m alone again.
Fucking hell.
Tears prick the backs of my eyes, but getting emotional over this isn’t going to help. Still, I’m so angry it’s difficult to breathe for a moment.
Then realization hits me. I’m in Cowboy’s room on one of the club floors of Elysium. I’m not even sure if I can get out of here because I think I remember hearing a beep last night while I was dangling over a certain shoulder like I was being carried away by some treasure hording dragon.
My eyes slide closed as I take a few deep breaths and try to get myself under control. Raging to mask the hurt of waking up alone, again, after spending the night in Everton’s arms isn’t going to help. But, fuck, I wish he were here so that I could tell him exactly what I think about him.
It takes me a few minutes in the bathroom and the entire time I tell myself that I can’t keep doing this.
Falling back into Everton’s orbit isn’t going to help me make my dreams into reality.
Dancing at Elysium is a job, nothing more, and I've prided myself on being professional for years. I can do it with this job too.
It’ll just mean walling off my heart to Everton. And Rian. I need to keep my distance and my head down. I’m here to dance and save money to go toward my next dream.
Time isn’t on my side. I know it; I can feel it.
It’s going to take time to build walls around my heart, impenetrability isn’t instant, but hopefully they’ll be strong enough when put to the test. There’s also the amount of time I’ll still be able to dance.
I can bemoan younger dancers getting better jobs in New York all I want, but I’m not getting younger and that’s just the truth of it.
I’ll never stop dancing, but the limits my body puts on me have changed. And it’ll continue to change. As much as I hate it.
Which means if I want to open my own studio then I need to save quickly.
I’m grateful I was able to keep ahold of my bag when I was leaving work last night as I start to pull clothes out of it. You never know when you’ll need a change of clothes and I wasn’t going to be left in a position to ask another dancer for help. I learned that lesson the hard way.
You only need to be sneered at by another dancer one time as they begrudgingly give you clothes when you need them.
To save face, I made sure to return those clothes to her washed and I went out and got another set of clothes of the same style as a thank you.
Did I force her to give me a little respect?
You better fucking believe it and I would do it again.
And I’ve never been without at least one change of clothes since.
My movements are jerky as I yank on a pair of sweatpants. As I reach for my tank top, the door swings open behind me. I let out a screech and clutch the fabric to my chest as I turn toward the door.
Everton’s eyes are locked on my barely covered tits as he slams the door shut behind him. The heat in his gaze licks at my skin, but I push the feeling away.
“What the hell?” I bark out the question, and his whiskey-colored eyes snap up to meet mine.
“Why are you out of bed?” His voice is like gravel as he takes a step closer to me.
I take one back, but it doesn’t feel playful. Everton immediately freezes, feeling the tension in the room. His eyes search my face and even though I don’t know what he sees, his shoulders drop.
“I’m sorry,” he rasps. When his eyes meet mine, I can see regret in them. “I shouldn’t have left you here alone.”
“Again,” I challenge.
He swallows hard and nods. “Again,” he agrees. “I shouldn’t have done it, not after everything I said, everything I promised. I left this morning for the same reason I did the other night—Rian. I thought I’d be back before you woke up,” he admits.
When he reaches for me, I’m not fast enough. Or maybe I don’t want to be. His hands land on my hips and give a squeeze.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t here. It was wrong of me. I needed to go and get Rian up and off to school.”
My throat closes up and I have to swallow hard to get around the lump in my throat. Can I really be mad at him because he needed to go and take care of his daughter?
I know the answer as my eyes slide closed.
“I’m going to fuck up when it comes to juggling everything,” there’s a vulnerability in his voice which has me opening my eyes to look at him.
I can see the plea in the way he’s looking at me.
A plea to understand. A plea to give him grace.
“It took a long time to find a balance between Rian and the club. And adding you into my life is going to be an adjustment.”
“Then maybe now isn’t the right time for us,” the words taste like ash as they leave my lips.
But they need to be said.
And not just because they’re my biggest fear put into words and floating on the air, unable to be denied.
Because maybe they’re true.
Maybe this isn’t the right time for us.
“No,” the word is a blade, slicing through my fears like thorny vines preventing the light from streaming in. “This is the right time, but I’m going to stumble.”
His hands push down my sweatpants, his fingers hooking into the waistband of my panties and gliding them over my hips. My fingers grip the tank top in my hands harder, but I don’t stop him.
I don’t think I can.
My legs widen as his fingers dive between my thighs. I gasp when two of his fingers slide deep inside of me and curl just right.
The tank top drops to the floor, snagging on his arm for a moment on the way down, as my hands shoot out and grip his shoulders. The fact that I’m naked in front of him while he’s still fully dressed isn’t lost on me. I almost wish it weren’t as hot as it is.
The smile on his face goes from unsure to pure sin as my head falls back on my shoulders and I moan, “Everton.”
“You’re already soaked for me,” he grunts out.
I bite my lip to stop any words from falling from my lips. He doesn’t deserve them. Not yet considering the anger and hurt still simmering under my skin.
The low, rumbly chuckle that comes from Everton tells me that he’s not going to let that fly. All of a sudden, his hands are gone and I stumble a little while blinking as the room comes back into view. Everton is still standing close, but the loss of his touch still echoes through me.
He strips and then his arm is around my waist and moving me right where he wants me in the middle of the bed. I look around and let out a sigh, but it’s half-hearted, at best.
“You know, we keep ending up here,” I murmur the words, unsure of what they mean.
I’m torn.
It feels like coming home being in his arms. I want, desperately, for this to be real.
But so much has changed recently. Can being with him, accepting what his eyes are begging me to believe, be as simple as coming home?
And then there’s Rian. She’s a gem. My heart stretches toward her in a way I know is real. It’s also terrifying.
My eyes slide closed with the force of my feelings, but Everton won’t let me get away with it. “Look at me,” his voice is a low demand; one I can’t refuse.
Only once our gazes are locked does he slide deep inside of me. His movements are slow and smooth; nothing hurried. My back arches and my hard nipples rub against his chest while my legs wrap around his waist, and my heels dig into his ass.
“Fuck, yes,” he grits out through his clenched teeth. “Love the way your pussy opens up for me.”
His words send a shiver down my spine as I cling to him. “I’m still mad at you,” I blurt out the words and instantly wish I could be sucked into a black hole.
The look in his eyes softens as he leans down to kiss me, softly and slowly and full of love. “I’m going to show you that you can trust me. I want this. I want you,” his words whisper across my lips.
And then he starts to move. Each thrust is measured. Every glide is paced and tempered with an old love seen in a new light.
It feels real.
“Don’t hide from me,” he whispers. “Let me show you what you mean to me.”
The flimsy walls I tried to construct disintegrate. Not even rubble is left behind. Damn this man.
“Please,” I gasp as he fills me completely and rotates his hips.
I give into the sweet sensation of the pleasure he causes to lap through my body like a beach kissed by the water. He exhales sharply through his nose when my walls tighten around his length.
“That’s it,” he groans. “You’re so fucking tight. I want to live inside your sweet pussy.”
Everything falls away as we look into each other’s eyes. This feels different. Like more. Like making love.
“You feel it,” I whisper the words across the thread that connects us and his whiskey-colored eyes light up.
They fucking glow.
With the years lost. With the stories untold and missed. With the love we have. With the hope for it transforming into something new, something stronger. With the certainty of where we belong.
We move together, every stroke of his length inside of me makes my breath catch. His thrusts become harder and I know I’m teetering on the edge of an orgasm. So close.
So fucking close.
“Don’t stop,” I keen as his hand slips between us.
The moment his thumb finds my clit and he presses down, I know I won’t be able to stop myself from coming. I don’t even want to.
His eyes are blazing with passion and all the things left unsaid.
“Tiny Dancer,” he groans as pleasure washes over us.
My walls squeeze him, begging for him to come deep inside of me. He buries himself as deep as he can. His focus is intense as his dick throbs with every jet of his cum. Our breathing is ragged and it feels like we’re suspended in a bubble, one which blocks out the reality of the outside world.
But I know it’ll all rush back in soon enough.
He doesn’t pull out of me as he flips us. I sigh against his chest as his large hand slides down my spine.
“Tell me about your new dream,” he rumbles.
Even though my body feels boneless, I prop my chin on his chest and study his face. Everything about him is open, but there’s a knowing glint in his eyes he doesn’t even try to hide.
“Rian told you,” I sigh.
“She did,” he confirms without a hint of regret. “But I still want to hear it from you.”
He keeps his eyes on me, and I know he’s not going to let it go.
“My plan is to save to open a dance studio. I want to make it a place where girls who want to learn how to soar can go. Too many girls want a place to belong, but it can be cost prohibitive. I want to start a foundation along with the studio to ensure everyone can dance and get help with wherever dance takes them, including school,” my voice has gotten stronger with every word, the look of pride on Everton’s face fuels my passion in the same way it always used to.
I can see the wheels turning in his head, but his hand slides across my skin in such a way that goosebumps cover my skin. When was the last time I felt this comfortable with a man?
Since you were in his arms back then.
I’m pulled out of my thoughts by his fingers running through my hair. I sigh into the feeling, finding peace in the way it makes me feel cherished.
“Any girl learning from you would be lucky to have you cheering them on,” his chest vibrates with his words. “Rian was practically glowing after you worked with her. She hasn’t stopped talking about it.”
His words make me feel warm from the inside out. “She’s a quick learner,” I murmur.
“She loves you, you know,” he whispers, his words sincere.
“You should be proud of her; she’s an amazing kid.” My throat is tight, but I mean every word.
“She is.” He brushes some strands of hair away from my face, his eyes warm as he watches me closely. “I want this. You. Her. I want the family I know in my heart we were always meant to have. I know you didn’t give birth to her, but it doesn’t mean you can’t love her too.”
My heart stutters before it starts pounding hard in my chest. All the feelings hit me at once and it’s like I can’t breathe.
“Just give me a chance to show you,” he rasps.
His fingertips glide along my skin and it feels like he’s mapping me again.
“This weekend,” he swallows hard, his voice strained with worry, “Rian and I are going to Sagebrush.” My eyes widen but he powers on.
“It’s to celebrate Rian’s birthday with the family before her party here on the day.
Will you come with us? Give me a chance; give us a chance? ”
“Okay,” I breathe out without thinking about it.
But as the word lands between us and his entire face lights up with happiness, I know it’s the right answer. Not only for him, but for me too.
“Tell me more about the studio,” he changes the subject, accepting my answer with an ease that makes my heart flutter.
I tell him everything and he hangs on every word as if this is a dream he can step into with me. Maybe he can.
I’ve always been one to take chances and this one might give me the home and family I was always meant to have. I only have my heart to lose.