16. Evan

16

EVAN

H er blue eyes are clearer than normal. Less stormy. I want to dive into those waters.

I know I should stop. She's so close the red fabric of her dress brushes my knuckles. My hand twitches, longing to reach out.

No. Not that.

"Show me. Now." I manage to keep my hands still, but I can't subdue my need to see her.

"Evan, I–I was just cutting loose. It was the champagne."

"Then I'll get you more champagne." Anything to see her move like that again.

"Evan, I was just entertaining our client, your client. That's all."

"I appreciate that. So much."

"I should… um, get home."

"Not until you dance for me." I'm losing control. Frantic. I should just let her go. "Now."

I'm trying my best to be kind. Accommodating.

Flicking the remote, I click on some of my favorite music, lowering the lights.

Even in the dimness, I can see her cheeks flush, that sweetest scarlet that fills her chest, her neck. It's intoxicating when I draw that reaction out of her.

"I'm not…comfortable dancing in front of people. That was the first time I ever have ."

"It's just me here."

"I don't know if that's better or worse." She laughs nervously.

"Why didn't you tell me you were a dancer?" My brain is scrambling to keep her talking, keep her here. Knowing Hellena, she'll get pissed and go home. I'll lose my chance.

Suspicion furrows her brow. "It's just something I always did for me. In private. Well, in classes, too. But that was different."

"How?" I know how. I've taken dance lessons my entire life. Her reasons matter, though. Everything about her matters. More than I want it to.

"There's no stage fright when it's a class for some reason. Everyone is learning. The teacher is there to critique, not just criticize, judge, like an audience does."

"Do you fear my judgment?"

"Fear has been an integral part of our relationship, Evan. Control. Second-guessing myself constantly. So yeah. I guess I do worry about you judging me."

"Would it surprise you to know I feel the exact same way?" I let something real slip. Something vulnerable. It's completely against my rules and my nature. It feels right.

Hellena pauses, narrowing her eyes at me. I know what she's thinking.

That this is yet another test.

It is, in a way.

She just doesn't realize that it's a test for me. One that I am failing. Anger claws up through my thoughts, sending my temperature and my mood through the roof.

I'm losing my patience. "I need you to dance. Now. I can't explain more than that."

That look crosses her face, the one that precludes her snapping at me and cursing me out.

"Hellena… Please ."

At that I see the look fade, shock at my pleading taking its place. Or she's calculating, deciding how she can use this against me. That's what I would do.

She steps away, circling me, walking to the beat unconsciously.

I can tell she's torn. Fighting with herself.

Turning at the platform, she eyes me, chewing her lip.

Enough.

"Don't make me… make you." It slips out through my gritted teeth.

"That's how this is going to be? You're gonna use leverage to make me dance for you?"

"If I have to."

She's stalking toward me, red hot anger rising in her cheeks. Her entire posture changes. Confident. Aggressive.

Each step clicks to the rhythm, sending jolts of anxiety up my arms. Yes. Yes .

Her curvaceous hips sway, snapping from side to side. She's riled. Moving on instinct.

Stopping right in front of me, her lip twitches into a… snarl. "You want to see me move . Fine. Tell me what you want, Boss ."

I fucked up badly. She's unhinged, throwing my demands back in my face.

I'll deal with the consequences later.

"The platform. Use it."

Every turn, step, and dip brings her back around, glaring at me.

She channels the hatred into the dance, twisting, crossing her legs, dropping down and back up, reaching the platform and bending backward over it, rolling over onto her knees, arms spread wide. Waterfalls of dark curls whip down, then back, her neck arching to let her glare at me again.

My pulse speeds up with her movement, her rage.

I'm fucking sweating .

"You want more?" she hisses, fury cascading off her in waves.

I can only nod, switching the song to something more visceral, heavier and dark. Her body undulates to the impact of the bass. I can see her boiling, growing more and more furious by the minute.

Losing herself completely to the song, funneling every ounce of her feelings toward me into each kick, driving her foot over her head and dragging her hands down it before diving down. The abrupt motion has her in a full split, bent over her front leg, dragging herself back up.

Her hair brushes along in the wake of her curling bend, leaning back, flipping her back leg around and rising.

My fingers can almost feel the strands wrapped through them, like I've wanted to do since I first met her.

I haven't taken a breath in several seconds, gasping suddenly. Every muscle in my body is tense, ready to spring into motion. To join her.

No.

If I do, I know what will happen.

I need to be in control when we dance together.

Otherwise…

The end of the song reaches a peak.

Another spin, and she bends backward, hands planting, legs arcing over, overshooting the back flip to land with her back on the platform, laid out. She nails the last note, propped up on her elbows, one knee drawn up, her foot resting on the edge of the small stage.

Her chest heaves from exertion. Passion.

A little smirk flickers across her lips.

My mouth is hanging wide open.

I fidget with the waistline of my pants, trying to ease the pressure of my erection. It feels like it might tear right through the fabric.

Our eyes meet, and I see the flames of her irritation still burning. Within that flame, though… I see desire. And recognition of my own.

She sees my longing. Bites her lip and thrusts out her chest.

Daring me.

My knuckles flex white as I grip the edges of my pockets to keep from relieving the tightness of my pants, and worse, the need to touch myself and take care of my pent-up frustration.

She sees that too, staring down, another little nip of her bottom lip.

Gathering her dress in her hands as she arches her back, Hellena spreads her legs ever so slightly.

Her dress is rucked up, pulled around her waist, and I can see the V of her lace thong between those thick, alabaster thighs, vanishing down between her ass cheeks. Even in the dim lighting, I can see that she's soaked through.

Her eyes meet mine again, and I can see the question there. "Do you want more?"

All I can do is nod. Right before I look down at her body and twitch my head to the right. Her eyes widen just a fraction, understanding what I really want.

Just as the next song starts. Sensual. Slow.

Hellena eases up to sitting, so slowly, watching me with malicious lust.

She's waiting to see if I move. To see if I will lose control. Join her.

After a few beats, she seems to have her answer and shrugs.

Then she abruptly tears the thousand-dollar dress from bust to hem in a powerful pull of her arms, driving them out to the sides. My outrage is immediately conflicted with the shock of her exposed skin, the expanse of her belly curving from the crease of her panties up to…

I forgot she left her bra in the car.

Pebbled skin in the cool of the room has me panting, every silken surface of her revealed as the dress drops away to the sides, forming a red blanket beneath her.

The effect is fucking dramatic.

Sexy as hell.

My teeth clack shut, my breath coming in shuddering gasps. I feel my balance slipping, pulling me forward, so I step back, finding the wall to press into, steadying myself.

She lets me settle, running her hands down her hips, her thighs, inhaling deeply. Each of those mesmerizing orbs settles to the side, her nipples peaked and begging to be sucked. Bitten.

Her fingers clasp around, spilling the excess of her tits around them, caressing and pinching pink perfection in the center.

As her head tips back completely to the platform, her legs draw up, knees bent, spreading open.

All so she can drive one forceful palm down her belly, down the drenched deep red of the only strip of fabric on her body. Her fingers splay, the two in the middle pulling back up the center, tugging the material taut, showing the shape of her.

Topped off with a soft, vocal sigh.

I'm off the wall before I can stop myself, crossing the distance, tipping over her, slamming my hands down on either side of her. It takes every bit of effort I have to keep from touching her, holding myself inches away.

Not a flinch.

Her eyes light up as she reaches down, grabbing the waistband of my pants, tugging me closer.

I pull back, trying my best to resist.

The pressure building up inside me is unmanageable. Unbearable.

I'm about to give in when she lets go, shoving me back with the ball of one foot, just hard enough to make me stand and stumble a step. She's shaking her head.

I almost laugh at the audacity.

Hellena rolls to her feet, grace incarnate, and crosses the room, still in time with the song. From the corner, she snatches a chair, slides it right in front of me, flips it around, straddles it.

Pushing off, she backs away, her arms spiraling up above her head before she drops down to her knees, back up to a fold, then a slow, tit clutching raise, easing back onto the platform.

Two beats, four.

She's waiting for me to sit down.

Fine. She wants me to just watch. I'll watch.

The throbbing ache in my pants is screaming curses into my head, demanding that I throw my fucking rules out the window. Grab her. Dance with her. Fuck her senseless.

Instead, I force myself down, every muscle in my body protesting and clenching in blissful agony. Hellena licks her lips, staring at the way my zipper tents, barely able to contain my rock-hard desire for her.

A little flip of her finger tells me she needs more music.

I can't say no to that.

The song that comes next is ambient, simple, but powerful. One of Hellena's favorites, the vocals simple and raw. Her movements are smoother now. Flexing, undulating, rolling with the natural form of her arching back, the orbit of her ass, the swelling of her chest with every breath.

Hands cup and raise her breasts, letting them slip back out and down.

She lets herself fall back, tucking her knees up and spreading wide for me to see.

The beat sees her bouncing softly, on the balls of her feet, resting on her upper back, pumping as she finally rubs her entire hand into the heaven between her legs. Up and back down, taking the ruined silk along, showing me a hint, just the tip of her sex.

Light gleams off the soaked skin, sending thrills up through my back, exhausted from the tension, and I'm gripping the sides of the chair until my hands hurt.

Flexing my ass and thighs, I clench inside, thrusting against the confines of my clothing. A semblance of relief only makes it worse, currents of sensation spiraling through me.

I won't last another song. Another minute.

She sees me shaking, panting, matching breath for breath with her.

The breakdown of the song rolls her over, up onto her knees, looking at me over her shoulder. Her sacrum tilts back and forth rhythmically, opening and closing her flushed ass cheeks, the sliver of dark red just covering enough to make me almost shout for her to tear them off.

Like she can read my mind, she smiles and only pulls them to the side, sliding one finger, then two, deep inside her folds, forcing a long, desperate moan from her.

It's more than I can bear.

My resolve is in tatters.

Except that I can't let go of the chair, my fingers tearing into the cushion, my entire body locked up.

Hellena continues to drive her fingers inside, lost in her pleasure, practically humming along to the words of the song with every cry. I know she's close.

And so am I.

The eruption starts as searing pain, my body fatigued from maintaining my absolute control. Like a pumping heartbeat, deep in my stomach. My abs are near to giving out.

"I–I'm gonna…" she sings, involuntarily letting me know she's about to come undone.

It starts like an earthquake, her shaking thighs, then her gyrating hips, thrusting against her hand, her face buried in her other arm ahead of her.

Just as she starts to scream, I join her, biting down on my lip as she screams. "Fuck!"

Every muscle in my body lets go at the same time, flooding my shorts, hot and wet.

My head flops back as I sag in the chair, gasping and wondering what the hell I'm going to do with myself, watching her collapse against the platform, pulling the remains of her dress around her as she watches me.

The predatory satisfaction I see in her eyes makes me clench, instantly hard again.

Hellena Michaels is going to ruin me.