14. Chapter 14
My earlier concern was put to rest by her words. She was feeling shy, so it made sense. Even when we were at the summerhouse, she never wore a swimsuit, and a leotard was a close cousin to one, so it made sense.
I bounced into the office and found the wrap-around skirt with a bow.
I shook my head and smirked. Only time would tell if she came out in it or not.
Was it wrong of me to want her to take one look at it and refuse to wear it?
I carried it across the hall and knocked on the door. She opened it the tiniest crack.
“Here you are,” I said.
A loud groan greeted me. “Lavender, of course. I guess I should be grateful it’s not lace or see-through,” she muttered, shutting the door again.
“You could always not wear it. No need to be so shy,” I teased.
There was only silence, and a minute went by. Then the door creaked open, revealing her face peeking out from behind it. She startled a bit and then took a deep breath. Our eyes locked, and she opened the door all the way and stepped into the hall beside me.
My eyes roamed over her, from the top of her head to the bottom of her feet. This was the most of her I’d ever seen. And I liked what was before me. Too much. My body reacted before my brain could catch up.
I couldn’t tear my eyes away and didn’t want to. It was wrong, and my brain screamed, shut it down. But I couldn’t. The leotard was tank-style, and the outline of her bra was visible under.
Fuck, she was breathtaking.
The skirt she wore hugged her curves in all the right places, showing her waist and the generous shape of her hips. She wore it with an air of uncertainty, and I wanted to do anything I could to make the look go away. Without a word, I reached out and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear.
My touch lingered a moment longer than it should have. Long enough for me to realize I didn’t want to stop. Her lips parted like she wanted to say something, and I could see her mind working overtime.
I put my finger on her lips. “I know you hate the color, but it looks fantastic against your skin tone. You opted to not wear the tights I see. I approve. You know, in the future, workout clothes are fine for the beginning portion of our lessons. Heels will come later.”
I meant every word I said, too. The color complemented her in more ways than one. Her legs were toned and showcased beautifully in the skirt. The fabric clung to her athletic build perfectly. Her skin glowed, her Italian heritage undeniably accentuated by the soft light in the hall.
She was much taller than Kinsley, and I knew instantly what she would feel like in my arms on the dance floor. She carried herself with grace, whether or not she knew it. Or believed it.
“It’s a little small on me. Digs in all the wrong places, if you know what I mean, and the main reason I requested the skirt.”
Heat crept up her throat and pooled beneath her cheekbones. She tucked her chin to her chest, suddenly fascinated by the floor. Unable to help myself, I tried to see for myself how accurate her words were.
It dug into the shoulders a little and it was tight across her chest. She was bigger in that area than Kinsley was. My gaze dropped farther, wishing the skirt wasn’t covering her so I could see more of her.
“I’ll be more prepared next time,” she breathed, looking contrite.
Tearing my gaze away from her legs, I did a slow crawl up, and I stopped. Frowning, I murmured, “This won’t do. Here, let me.” I knelt down in front of her, and the gasp that escaped her lips went straight to my dick.
She immediately put her hands down the front of the skirt, holding it in place. “What are you doing?” she squeaked.
I smirked up at her. “You forgot to tie this.”
My fingertips brushed against her leg as I reached out to where the ribbon of the skirt hung loosely at her side. The delicate fabric whispered against my touch. At that moment, time stood still as I carefully tied it in a bow.
My fingers deftly worked to secure it in place. The silence stretched tight and thick with everything neither of us was saying. As I finished tying it and rose, I had to fight the urge to trail my hands up the back of her thighs and haul her body into mine.
Damn. I needed space. She was killing me, and the sad part was, she was clueless. I stepped back to give her space as the confused look in her eyes demanded it, almost.
“You ready to begin?” I asked.
“I think so. Go easy on me? At least for tonight.”
I could hear her fear.
“Of course. I promise it’s not that hard. Dancing doesn’t have to be difficult.”
“Unless you have two left feet, right?”
“I suppose, but most individuals just need proper instruction and practice. Like with anything, the more you do it, the better you get.”
She scoffed, making me chuckle. It was best to fall back into our normal patterns, so I rocked my shoulders into hers.
“Any dance can be mastered with good guidance and concentrated effort. You can learn. Today, we’ll start slow. A nice stretch and warm-up and then we’ll look at your form.”
“You have to promise me right now you won’t laugh.”
“I wouldn’t, Isabella. I know this isn’t easy for you, but it can be fun if you let it. That’s one of the benefits of dancing. It’s fun and if you don’t take yourself too seriously, you might find you enjoy it.”
She nodded and then grabbed my arm. “Would you take my picture?” She unlocked her phone and handed it to me.
“Are we documenting our list items, then?”
“It’s for Kinsley. I was a bit harsh earlier. This might cheer her up. But your idea has merit. Maybe I should document all the items on the list.”
I burst out laughing. “All of them?”
Her face turned red, and she exclaimed, “Well, not all of them. Definitely not number three. Bash would have a heart attack and keel over if I made a sex tape.”
She laughed, and that set us both off. Yeah, he would die, but not until he killed whomever it was she made the tape with. I’d help him along, but she didn’t need to know that. I took four pictures, and she chose one quickly and sent it off.
We made our way down the hall to Studio B, and I held the door open. Did I check out the sway of her ass as she walked past me? Most definitely, I did. The only thing that would have made it better was if she wasn’t wearing the skirt.
She stepped tentatively into the room. That flutter of anticipation settled in my chest. I chose some warm-up music and then led her to the center of the room.
“We start with a warm-up. I know most people think stretching comes first, but it’s beneficial to warm up the muscles before stretching them.
It’s going to seem silly, but I know you’ve taken lessons with Ivan, so some of it is gonna be easy.
Jumping Jacks.” She groaned. I raised an eyebrow.
“Dissension, and we haven’t even begun.”
“No. It’s…I should have worn my sports bra. Don’t stare,” she said, grinning bashfully. It was so fucking cute seeing her this way.
“I’m a professional. I wouldn’t dream of it.”
“Liar,” she mumbled as I chuckled.
We started with two sets of twenty and then moved on. And laughing was the last thing on my mind as she moved.
Jesus, help me.
“Next one is leg swings. It helps isolate one side of the body at a time. It will help increase your range of motion and flexibility. To do them, stand with one leg in front of you, like this.” I moved my body to demonstrate.
“Now you’ll lift the other leg, and bend it as you swing it towards the front of the room, then toward the back. We’re going to do it ten times.”
She nodded as she concentrated on the move I did. Once she got into the groove, it came as second nature.
“Impressive. You have a good sense of balance. Often people need a chair to help,” I complimented her. “Now, another easy one. Marcel loathes these with a passion. Wanna take a guess?”
“Lunges?” she said uncertainly.
I threw my head back and laughed. “Spot on, very good. He’ll be thrilled you know him so well. We’re going to deepen the stretch about halfway through. You can rest your palms on the floor for balance if you need to.”
I stopped to demonstrate, and the intensity in her eyes was electric. I cleared my throat. “Ten times on each side. And then we’ll work all the way up your body, starting from your ankles to your head.”
The last sentence came out low and sensual. I wanted to smack myself, but that would draw too much attention. Try as I might, I couldn’t keep the level of professionalism I prided myself on.
This was what she did to me without even trying. After a series of ankle circles and heel raises, we moved to the hips. I showed her the move, but then had to stop her halfway through.
“Let me help you with the form.” I moved behind her, placing my hand on her lower back.
“Straighten your back, widen your feet a bit more. Line them up…perfect,” I hummed as she immediately corrected her stance to be shoulder width apart.
Her breathing hitched as my hand rested on her right hip. “Bend your knees a little for me.”
“Like this?” she breathed and moved.
“Exactly like that. Now you’re going to straighten this knee.
” I tapped the right leg. “And you’ll notice your left hip automatically moves to the side.
” I coached her through the move. “Return to center and do the opposite one.” My hand rested on her hips as she did the moves.
Two sets of ten and my hands refused to budge the entire time.
Our eyes locked in the full-length mirror, and damned if I didn’t wish for the ability to read her mind. Her lips were parted as she breathed through the exercises. We moved through the shoulder rolls and neck turns quickly, and I declared us sufficiently warmed up and moved to stretches.
“Follow along with me,” I instructed. “Take it slow and mirror me.”
Together, we moved through a series of stretches. Her moves were actually fluid and controlled.
“You do yoga, princess?”
She startled at her nickname, making the corner of my lips turn up in a smile. Instead of answering, she nodded.