I’M ABOUT TO ROCK HIS WORLD
My heart is racing toohard for that short sprint up the stairs, but it’s been put through the ringer in the past couple of hours so I’ll forgive it this time.
When he growls my name, I feel it in my core. That low baritone, mellow and smooth, sends ripples throughout my whole being.
Because he’s a half-staircase behind me, I dart into a room he won’t suspect.
His heavy footfalls clue me into his presence on the landing as I deliberate over whether to keep the boxers on or off…
I honestly didn’t expect this reaction to me stealing his underwear. But maybe that’s inexperience talking? I figured shirts were a thing. I’ve seen Brennan react to Camille like that when, Roman hitched on her hip, she putters around their apartment in his discarded shirt, but underwear?
“Victoria,” Maxim calls, crooning my name.
The goose bumps it triggers has me making a split-second decision—I keep the boxers on.
Then, I dart over to the corner of the room that’s usually hidden in the shadows and slide into my favorite heels. After, I approach the pole, falling into a position that’s as comfortable as breathing to me at this point.
Swinging around it as I gain momentum, I let my hands adjust, my thighs adapt, and I tumble into my favorite routine.
I’ve dreamed of being caught by him.
Of surprising him.
Gripping the pole tightly with my inner thighs and waist, I twist my hip backward to lock in the hold. Arching my back and activating my core, I make sure my toes are pointed once I straighten my passive leg and then arch both arms so he can see my tits.
Perfect timing too—he steps into the room then freezes when he catches sight of me.
I blink a couple times when he flicks on the light.
“Victoria.”
Fuck.
I don’t want to admit that I pushed Camille into teaching me this stuff for that reaction right there.
I did it for great upper body strength and to tighten my core, too, but…
God.
Twirling around the pole, I hook one thigh around it, tucking it into my knee as I pull my ankle toward my body while allowing my other leg to drape vertically. Pressing my shin against the metal, I lift my pelvic floor toward it, tense my abs, and then reach my hand toward the wall.
He steps closer.
Closer.
His gaze locked on me. Entranced.
That’s what I always wanted.
Not just his love. His fascination.
Not just someone to protect.
Not just a woman to bed and to breed.
This.
Here.
