Chapter 23
Chapter Twenty-Three
OLIVIA
“Annnnnd flutter the leaves. Flutter, flutter, flutter! Maddie, bigger! Capital F flutters!”
Olivia coached her older girls’ ballet class as they fluttered through the falling leaves the girls were tossing in the studio.
“And then! We plié, tendu, sauté, chassé, annnnd lift the leg with attitude.”
Olivia clapped along with the music. “Annnnd then toss the leaves from your harvest basket,” she said, coaching along with them as the girls played their part of autumn maidens.
Vivaldi thrummed through the old studio speakers as the girls did the first run-through of their entire dance.
They held hands across their bodies, stepping together in formation.
And as the final move, they gathered the leaves up from the floor and joyfully tossed them in the air as Maddie stood en pointe, wobbling on tiptoes in her first-ever pair of toe shoes.
They all landed in fourth position as leaves fluttered down and the music ended.
Olivia looked at the clock, and time was up. “Excellent job.” She clapped.
Parents had their faces smushed onto the glass and burst into applause. Phew. At least they’re happy.
She would fix the dancers’ posture and all the missteps next class. Only two more rehearsals until the fall festival performance.
“Did I do okay in my toe shoes?” Maddie asked. She still had that “first pair of pointe shoes” excitement dancers had after waiting for the satin-wrapped torture for years.
“Yes, but”—Olivia repositioned Maddie’s foot that had no weight on it—“make sure you are over the box of the shoe, like this, so you don’t hurt yourself.”
Olivia demonstrated the difference since she was wearing pointe shoes as well, showing how her ankle and body weight changed.
“But good job. You’re doing really well.” Maddie’s eager smile made Olivia’s heart melt. Hopefully, Maddie could keep that same excitement after Olivia was gone.
She followed the girls into the hallway to greet their parents. The red and gold light from the setting sun turned the fall trees outside into bright bursts of color. The door opened as the last family walked out, and Luca walked through, backlit by the fiery trees.
By himself.
The clanging doorbell was barely louder than her heart jumping in her chest at the unexpected treat of seeing him.
Every nerve ending pulsed with the beat of her heart. “Hi.”
“Hey.” His smile was shy.
They couldn’t take their eyes off each other this morning, and she’d accidentally poured coffee on Annabelle’s cereal.
She could get lost in those eyes of his—ones that looked at her like she was precious and worth something.
She wanted to slide her arms around him, bury her face in his chest. But everything felt so unstable, like they only let themselves have just enough to stave off the hunger of wanting each other.
“No Annabelle?” she said suddenly, flipping the lock and the front lights off and going into the studio to turn off the electronics and room lights.
“She’s with Pearl. They kicked me out so they could have girl time. Saw your car, so thought I’d stop by.”
Thank you, Pearl.
Luca started picking up the piles of leaves on the studio floor.
“Oh, leave that,” Olivia said. “I’ll get it with a broom tomorrow.”
She walked to join him in the middle of the room because he hadn’t listened and continued to scoot leaves together with his foot. She put a hand on his arm to stop him, and he threaded his fingers through hers.
The quiet of the empty, dim studio felt otherworldly as they stood among the piles of bright leaves.
He bit his lip. “I wanted to say thank you, again. For the cupcakes. I don’t know why I never thought of it, but AB asked if we could do it every year.”
She sighed, happy that she could make him happy and make something easier for him. “I’m glad.”
Their dark reflections in the mirrored walls surrounded them. Her hands slid up his dark shirt, and he wrapped his arms around her.
“Hi.” His voice was low and slow, greeting her in that quiet, possessive way of his.
As if saying mine.
God, I love it.
The inevitability of what was going to happen between them felt predestined. There was no need to fight it.
She was a five-foot-four heaving sigh in toe shoes for this man.
Her lips curved slowly, as she enjoyed the lust-drunk look in his eyes. “You’ve got to work on your pickup lines.”
He smirked, nodding as his hand curled around the back of her neck possessively, and captured her mouth.
The lust she’d built staring at him for days ignited like a fireball.
He devoured her.
Desire shot straight to her pussy at his needy, claiming kisses. She ran her hands under his jacket, the smell of leather and cedar wrapping around her.
His hand massaged her neck as he licked into her mouth, and she gasped at how good it felt, meeting his tongue with her own. She whimpered as his tongue played with hers.
Her tight nipples brushed against his chest.
She was going to fuck something on this man’s body in a ballet studio tonight.
Come hell or high kicks.
“Anyone else here?” he gasped between deep, ferocious kisses. He angled her head, each one more deeper, more savoring than the last.
She shoved off his leather jacket. “No.” So please, please, please stay.
Hungry hands grabbed at her, squeezing her ass over her flouncy dance skirt as he took her mouth. She ruthlessly manhandled the muscles on his arms, ran her hand along his hard cock.
She was wet already, and her pussy pulsed at imagining his cock under her again. Riding him again. Any part of him.
His hand slid up her slick capri tights under her dance skirt. “Security cameras?”
She laugh-sobbed as he bit her earlobe and giggly, lusty need lit every erogenous zone up like a landing strip. “Definitely no cameras.”
His pupils were blown wide in the dark room. Slowly squeezing her ass, he turned her so she faced the mirror with him. Her nipples poked hard against her leotard.
His hand moved under her short dance skirt, sliding around to the front.
Biting her earlobe again, his hand slid under her tights, slowly brushing along the leotard underneath, then down her stomach.
Sucking in a breath, he tugged the bottom of her leotard to the side. “No panties,” he said, surprised, taking a ragged breath, the ghost of a smile on his lips.
Her chest heaved up and down as he slowly teased her wet pussy with just one finger, barely touching right where she wanted it, hinting with each brush up and down her slit.
She clutched his head, reveling in his scent when she ran her fingers through his hair.
“Eyes open, Liv,” he murmured.
She hadn’t even known they were closed, she was so lost in wanting.
Moaning, she watched his hand barely move under her tights. Barely brushing her clit, making her burn for him, tremble with need.
His thick, rough finger started lower, taking its time to reach her clit—but then stopped.
And started teasing again.
She moaned at the torture, tossing her head back onto his chest.
“See how beautiful you are?” he said, grabbing her breast slowly with his other hand. Taking his time squeezing her. Savoring it.
She groaned at how good it felt.
“Say it,” he growled, kissing the back of her neck.
She laughed at the thought of even stringing two words together right now while his thick fingers spread her pussy in her tights and he pinched her nipple.
He pulled down her leotard so her breasts were bared to the mirror.
“Beautiful,” she sighed, looking at what he did to her. How her tits were propped up by the material and he stared at them hungrily.
“You’re gorgeous,” he said in a voice that wanted her to repeat after him. Another finger teased a path from her core to her clit.
“I’m—” He finally pinched her clit, and she screamed. “Gorgeous,” she said through the agony of pleasure.
He went back to teasing, taking his sweet fucking time.
She loved it and hated it. She wanted the cock she’d come against.
“I was tested,” she said through a moan, “after my relationship last year. All clear.”
“Same.”
“No condoms, though,” she realized, cursing her planning.
He claimed one breast, squeezing as he raked his teeth across her neck.
“Not what I want tonight anyway.” He kissed her hard, backing her across the studio until they ran into the barre mounted on the concrete wall.
He pulled back suddenly and sauntered to the tumbling mats, sucking the fingers covered in her scent. He grabbed two.
What on earth?
He slapped the mats down in front of her. He kissed her hard, briefly sucked on a nipple on his way down, and knelt in front of her.
The width of his shoulders was a gift to behold. The stubble on his beard caught against the fabric of her leotard as he rubbed his face down her stomach, over her skirt.
He yanked off her capri tights. “I plan to be here a while.”
Oh.
Oh.
He’s going to…
Oh my god. She braced herself on the barre behind her as he lifted her skirt, kissed the tops of her thighs, her hip meat that squeezed out around her leotard. He nipped, making his way to the center of her thighs, biting her muscles.
Guilt weighed heavy on her shoulders. “You… you don’t have to.”
He froze and looked up. “You don’t like this?”
She was lightheaded at his response. “I do, but I know a lot of guys don’t.” The last two she’d dated. One was grossed out by her, outright. “I want to, but you don’t have to.”
He wrapped his hands around the backs of her thighs, squeezing them. “Liv.” His forehead rested on her belly button. He pressed his face into her, inhaled hard and groaned.
She felt worshipped with every touch.
He rubbed his nose, his mouth back and forth over her belly. “This is all I’ve dreamed about. For weeks. Months.”
He looked up, licking his lips and squeezing her thighs again in his massive hands.
Her knees almost buckled at how much she wanted his mouth between her thighs.
“Please,” he whispered, looking desperate for it.
To go down on her after a day of work.
Desperate to taste her and make her come.