And cue the crickets.
And boredom.
Great. I could almost feel the strike against me.
And as luck would have it, the minute the end of the song came, Marlo walked in. Just in time to see my performance.
He leaned against the door and nodded to me as if I needed permission to continue with my own class.
I gritted my teeth, ready to start, and then an evil idea hit me. It’s not like I wanted him to suffer, okay so maybe a little bit. “Marlon! What an honor that you’d visit our class first!”
His eyes narrowed as he looked between me and my slack jawed pale teens. “You can continue, Ray.”
“Oh but wouldn’t it be super fun to demonstrate… together?” I could have sworn he flinched when I said together.
I could barely suppress my smile as the teens started to clap.
“See?” I spread my arms wide. “Marlon, Marlon, Marlon!” I was so going to Hell for this. His look said he was daydreaming about strangling me.
I expected him to say no.
Expected him to ask “for a word” with me.
Instead, he dropped the iPad onto the ground along with his ball cap and then ran his hands through his thick silky hair.
I gulped.
His shirt was so tight I could see his eight-pack.
Did the guy even enjoy food anymore or just survive off of air, protein shakes, and the tears of people who defied him?
“Sounds good.” He nodded.
A few of the girls in the front row gasped. One was lamenting about not having her phone so she could stare at the pictures later. I made a mental note to protect Marlo from the little creeper in pink.
Not that it was my job or anything.
“Ready?” I was still waiting for him to back down, please let him back down from this very intense and somewhat sexually explicit dance. Please. God. Please not on this day. Not today! My hand hovered over the play button.
“If you are.” Was it my imagination or had his voice always been that deep and raspy? My girly parts cheered. I told them it was a false alarm. It wasn’t real. He wasn’t real.
“Great,” I said with fake vibrato. Well, shit. I pressed play and faced the class and tried not to tense when he stood next to me.
Within seconds, we started the beginning of the dance, snapping fingers, twisting wrists. I fought to keep his timing — because of course, it was impeccable.
It was like he was born to dance.
Damn him.
He turned to me, braced my hips as I bent completely backward, then he spun me around so my ass was pressed against him. I could feel every inch of him. My body buzzed while my mouth went dry, his hand ran down my cheek, down my breast and to my hip as he pushed me into the next movement with his body. I was cocooned in his sexual web and I wanted to stay there forever.
My breaths came out in gasps as I tried to focus on the music and not his warmth. He dipped me back again, his hand slowly running between my breasts as we made our way into the next part of the dance.
Sweat ran down my temples.
It was completely brought on by him.
His touch was driving me insane. His nostrils flared as he twirled me in his arms. We were to the floor part of the routine. I crawled toward the crowd as he crawled toward me and then spun me onto my back in a straddle. Holy mother of God I was having sex with my clothes on in front of eighteen-year-olds, most of whom had absolutely no social life and probably hadn’t even had their first kiss.
Yup, hell was waiting for me.
I probably had a table with my name on it.
Right next to Marlo’s.
He pulled me to my feet as we completed the dance, me in his arms, his mouth pressed against my neck. Both of our chests heaving.
Of all the bad ideas I’d had in my life.
This took the cake.
The music stopped.
And the entire class erupted in applause. Applause I wasn’t expecting. We both bowed. Hoots and hollers brought my students alive, their faces were all excitement and smiles as they continued to clap, completely relaxing me and making me realize that it wasn’t about me — and as long as I could get that through my brain I would be okay. I was there for them, to put that smile on their face.
“Good job, Ray.” Marlon’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Guys, looks like you’re in good hands, so I’m off to check in on the rest of the classes.”
I didn’t miss the funny way he was walking.
Or the way his entire body tensed when he bent over to pick up his hat and iPad. When the screen door slammed behind him, I let out a rough exhale.
“Miss Ray?” One of the shy girls raised her hand.
“Yeah?”
“Is that why my mom says dancing gets you pregnant?”
The entire room fell into fits of laughter.
My face felt red and hot. Great. I rolled my eyes. “Dancing doesn’t get you pregnant. Though it used to be believed it leads to sex.” Sex, sex, sex, my body cheered. With Marlo!
No!
I gulped and shoved the thought out of my brain. “At any rate, this dance — in fact this entire musical — was believed to promote sexuality but it’s realistic of the time, and I think that just adds to the magical effect of the entire musical. Now, let me teach you how to snap and twist your wrists.”
I was a snapping and twisting zombie for the next twenty minutes.
My body was present.
My brain and heart were still stuck in that dance, twirling around, and around that room in my enemy’s arms.
I PUT MY hat on my head then jerked it off, then threw it on the ground and kicked it a few times before picking it up and dusting it off and clenching it between my fingertips.
The same fingertips that had just been all over her body, touching her curves, caressing her skin.
“Damn it,” I muttered under my breath. I should never have touched her, it unleashed all those repressed memories the way alcohol loosens someone’s tongue and inhibitions.
Suddenly I couldn’t escape her scent.
Memories of her tongue tangled with mine.
Her ass had pressed so firm against me — my dick had developed other ideas during that dance. Ideas with no clothes, grinding bodies, skin on skin.
“I’ve never looked at a hat like that before. And I like hats.” Jackson’s voice interrupted my fantasy like getting doused with cold water.
“Shut up.” Yeah that’s all I had. Shut up? Really?
He grinned. “You’re sweating.”
“I was dancing.” I started walking toward the next class. “Aren’t you supposed to be teaching?”
“Next hour. I was going to go see how Ray was handling the shy kids and choreography, but considering the way you’re looking at that hat, and the way you’re walking like you got a beanpole stuck in the front of your pants and don’t know how to shove it back where it belongs…” He fell into a fit of laughter again.
“Was there a point to this visit?” I wondered out loud.
“I just told you my point, I was going to check in on her. Someone should. Choreography duty sucks, and it was in her file that she doesn’t do public speaking and that her only C was in dance.”
“You read her employee file? Unbelievable! That’s against policy, Jackson, not to mention it’s an invasion of privacy.” I put my hat back on and pulled the brim hard enough to give myself a headache.
“First off, I helped Jen with all the placements this year and knew it would be tough for the new girl since she had a C in that class, but she came on so last-minute Jen didn’t know where else to place her.” He shrugged.
While I fixated on the fact that she got a C. In dance? That girl? She’d basically seduced me without speaking, and she’d gotten a C? God help us all if she had gotten an A.
“She did fine.” I didn’t mean for it to come out defensive or like I was snapping at him, but my nerves were already shot. I shouldn’t have had that much coffee.
br />
Shouldn’t have touched her.
Shouldn’t have liked it.
She’d challenged me.
And I took her up on it, hoping she was horrible at dance so I had one more thing hanging over her head.
Instead, it had been… I shook my head.
“Well fine.” Jackson smirked. “I’m going to go grab some more coffee before my class on the smolder.”
I almost threw my hat at him. “It’s not the smolder, stop calling it that. It’s a class on facial expression.”
“Quick what’s my facial expression now?” He tried his smolder and then lifted a middle finger.
“Real nice, Jackson, and your smolder’s broken — you look more pissed than sexy, hate to break it to you.”
“Crusher of souls and dreams,” he yelled at me and then ran in the other direction, only to stop and turn around. “Does this conversation constitute as sexual harassment? Should I go to HR and tell them you don’t think I’m sexy?”
“Go.” I pointed to the mess hall. “Now.”
He lifted his hands into the air and jogged away.
And I was left sitting there listening to the music pumping from the dance studio. Imagining my hands on her, her hands on me.
Yeah, day two.
And already I felt out of control.
I ignored the arousal I felt for her.
That’s all it was.
Chemical.
Any guy would feel ready to rip her clothes off after having her ass kiss his body that way.
I cleared my throat and made my way to the script writing group.
Brax had everyone in a circle. They were brainstorming ideas of what we could do for the camp production.
We had done Hamlet last year.
A few requested the Twelfth Night.
I listened as Brax wrote everything down then instructed the campers to write out character descriptions. He was a natural. Teens loved him. He didn’t need me babysitting him.
I gave him a little wave and left.
I repeated the same process the entire day, checking in with every class to make sure we had no issues. It was my job to make sure things ran smoothly. To make sure the campers were happy and the staff felt like they were a part of something important.
I was almost late to the staff bonfire because of all the check ins I had done. It was the first staff event of the summer. A way for us to bond outside of the actual camp-run activities.
I hated that my eyes roamed over the group of people in a greedy search for Ray.
And when I came up empty.
I was pissed.
Livid, actually.
“Brax,” I yelled him over.
He jogged toward me and stopped. “What’s up?”
“Ray. Where is she?”
He shrugged. “I think Jackson said she went back to her cabin or something.”
I grit my teeth. “The bonfire’s mandatory.”
Brax gave me a look of complete amusement all at my expense. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so irritated with another human. Normally you’re all about no yelling, no bullying, world peace. The sooner you sleep with her the better.”
“I still can’t decide why that sounds offensive when you say it out loud,” I muttered.
“It sounds less offensive when you think it, and you know you are thinking it, you can’t stop thinking about it, and I’m sure your little dance number didn’t help things.” He chuckled.
I shot him a dark look. “How did you find out about that?”
He shoved his hands in his pockets, “Really, bro? By the time I had those students this afternoon the story had gone from a very magical moment between you two, to Ray pregnant with your twins.”
“Fuck.” I wiped my hand down my face. “Just what I need.”
“Kids?”
“Rumors,” I clarified. “And the dance was…” I didn’t deny I could still feel her body between my hands. “We’re getting off track. She doesn’t get preferential treatment just because she’s pretty. I’ll be right back. Hold the fort down.”
“Yes sir.” He smirked.
I rolled my eyes and focused on the path leading back up to the cabins. She was pretty. She was rich.
She was spoiled.
And I wasn’t going to stand for it no matter how good she used to taste or how bad I wanted to taste her again.
IT WAS STUPID.
Stupid that I was staring at the cat calendar in my shaking hands. Stupid that I was crying.
They forgot again.
As soon as I knew Marlo was on the war path toward another class, I ran into the main lodge and swiped my phone to double check. Maybe they left a voice mail?
I would have even been fine with a text.
Nothing.
I wanted to blame them so badly, but a part of me had always blamed myself, maybe because whenever my mom looked at me, I knew she saw him too. We’d had the same nose.
Funny, how my nose is a reason that my parents can’t be bothered with me, can’t be bothered to look at me or even celebrate my twenty-second birthday with me.
I wiped a tear under my eye and tried to think about something happy something that would make the tears ago away. I was already late for the staff campfire. I needed a distraction in a huge way and I figured at least being with other people was healthier than staring at the stupid cat calendar.
At least I now had three uses for it. Decorations. Pet. Birthday present.
Something loud banged on my door.
I jumped up, dropping the cat calendar on the bed like a hot potato and almost screamed when the knock came again. “Ray? I know you’re in there.”
“Marlo?” I took a few steps toward the door and jerked it open. He was bracing his massive body against the frame, his eyes were wild, his breaths came out in short gasps like he sprinted all the way there passing several hills on the way. “What’s wrong?”
“What’s. Wrong.” He repeated in that condescending rasp. My body shivered while my mind wanted to fight. “What’s wrong is you’re pushing me too far, that’s what’s wrong.”
“I’m pushing you…” I narrowed my eyes. “How exactly?”
“Do you play dumb on purpose? Do people fall for this bullshit? Really I’d like to know.”
I normally had my armor on.
Every day was war wasn’t it?
Especially for me.
But he’d caught me at a bad time.
He’d caught me sad.
And I wasn’t good at fighting the sad. I never had been.
A tear streamed down my cheek, leaving a trail of wetness. I tried to stop it, but another one just followed it, and another, until I stopped counting.
I sucked in a breath. “I’m sorry for whatever I did. I was just… getting ready to come down to the campfire, but I needed a minute.”
His face softened a fraction of an inch. “A minute to cry?”
“A minute to celebrate.” I shrugged stupidly. “It’s my birthday, I thought maybe my parents…” I shook my head as a ball lodged itself in my throat. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll just grab a sweatshirt.”
“Ray—”
“It’s fine, I’m not pushing you on purpose.”
He sighed. “Listen—”
“Where did I put that sweatshirt anyway?” I did a small circle.
“Damn it, Ray, just listen to me!” He was in the doorway, and then suddenly he was gripping my arms, holding me steady, staring into my soul, feeding me with his warmth. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t.” I couldn’t handle his pity. It felt like an itchy sweater. I wanted out. I needed out or I’d do something worse and collapse in his arms or something. “Don’t do this.” I looked away.
He gripped my chin between his thumb and forefinger forcing me to look at him, to see his beauty up close. Even with my blurry eyes I could see the blue flecks in his, I could smell the aftershave he wore, the cologne that reminded me of hot summer nights when he’d b
e mowing the lawn while I lay out by the pool.
The tension between us was enough to scald the pool — and the smell was always the same, as was the look of hatred he sent my way.
It was always like that after.
After we touched.
After we kissed.
Like our hearts decided that if we couldn’t have one another, they’d choose something just as passionate, something just as wonderful and horrible all at once — hate.
He watched me then. Holding my face tenderly.
While tears dried on my cheeks.
While I waited for his sneer.
Hoped for it to replace the pity in his eyes.
The truth that followed.
The fact that he’d always had a reason to pity me. He just didn’t realize it because it was the only armor I’d had left when it came to him — my social status, my money.
Smokescreens and more smokescreens.
I tried jerking away.
“Stop,” he hissed.
I licked my lips.
He lowered his head.
This wasn’t happening, was it?
He stopped inches from my mouth, right where I could taste him. All I needed to do was lean my head up, move closer to his heat, to the smell of spearmint on his breath.
“Twenty-two,” he breathed out, and then his mouth lowered to my right cheek. “One.” He moved to the left cheek. “Two.” I sucked in a breath as he pressed a kiss to my forehead. “Three.” He kissed my neck next, and then lower. He grabbed my right hand and kissed the back of it, and then my wrist, he repeated the process with my left hand. He kissed me everywhere.
I was too stunned to say anything.
“Twenty-one.” He kissed my fingertip and then pulled me against his chest so hard my breath hitched.
I didn’t have time to prepare myself for what it would feel like to be wanted by him, touched by him.
So when he lowered his head and brushed a petal soft kiss against my mouth, his tongue traveling along my lower lip as if he needed to sneak a taste, I didn’t know what to do.