Page 67 of Dance or Die


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Letting me guide him, he leans on me as we make our way downstairs.

“You really need to work on that fear,” I say with a smile, awed by his bravery. “I can’t believe you did that for me.”

“Does that mean you’ll come to dinner, meet my parents?”

I cringe. “Will they hate me?”

“Only if you hurt me.”

“I’ll think about it.”

“Wow,” Presley comments when I come downstairs wearing a new black dress that stops above my knee. It has a deep V and thick shoulder straps. The material is stiff but comfortable and I feel amazing.

For the first time in forever, I wear my hair down, straight to my waist. A white-blonde flow of tresses that I tuck behind my ears. My makeup is minimal in comparison to how I usually have it and I wear my sparkly piercings as opposed to the plain silver balls that I wear for school.

He gapes at me, lips parted, light eyes shining with interest.

“I look hot, right?” I say, grinning and giving him a little twirl.

“You have no fucking idea.” He pushes on his groin and I laugh when I see a prominent bulge.

“Is that for me?” I tease, tapping him on the end of his nose.

“It can be,” he whispers, placing his hand against the wall so I can’t pass. “I know how to use it.”

He leans in and I’m too enraptured by his eyes on mine to realize that he’s about to kiss me and I also kind of want him to.

Stanley saves the day by clearing his throat and we separate.

“You ready?” he asks Presley who nods but still lets his eyes linger on me.

Lane rubs my arm with her hand. “You look beautiful, Scandal.”

It has been a week since I got grounded and thankfully both of them seem to have forgotten about it. Although they never did tell me a length of time, so maybe my grounding is over. I probably should have discussed this with them.

“Thanks.” I almost chew on my lip but then I remember my lipstick. “Where are you going?”

“To see Momma,” Paisley replies and then twirls. “Do you like my new dress?”

I nod and crouch down to her level, lightly touching the pink and white lace. “I love it so much. Do you think it’ll fit me?”

“No, and don’t try. You’ll stwetch it.”

We giggle and I dig my fingers into her side until she pulls away.

“Have fun on your date,” Stanley says and Presley’s face twists with a glare.

“You’re meeting Carter?”

I nod unapologetically. “I’m going to meet his parents.”

Stanley looks between Presley and me and raises a brow.

“Ooooh, that’s exciting, why didn’t you tell me?” Lane asks, brows furrowed with frustration. “I would have baked something for you to take.”

“Lane, if I eat any more of your incredible cooking, poor Stanley is going to have to buy me an entire new wardrobe full of clothes.”

She flaps a hand at me. “Still… it’s getting serious? It must be if you’re meeting his parents.”

I open my mouth to reply—

“Can I talk to you?” Presley asks, gripping my bicep in his hand. “I won’t take long, Mr. Oaks.”

“Uh-huh,” Stanley mutters, sounding amused.

I’m dragged out of the house and around it so we’re out of sight of the car. Curlyfry jumps up at the window and starts barking at us until I snap at him to get down.

I love that dog.

“You’re dating Carter now?”

I pull my arm free of his grasp. “I don’t see how that’s any of your business. You know where we stand.”

“Do I?” he laughs humorlessly. “Do you? Because the way I see it is, if you really like Carter as much as you think you do, you wouldn’t want to kiss me every time you see me.”

“Who says I do?”

“Your eyes, your body language, the way you smile at me when I enter a room or turn a corner and you’re there.” He backs me into the wall and cages me in with his strong arms, his head dips and our eyes meet. I refuse to acknowledge what he’s saying, even as lust coils in my belly like a forgotten snake waking up from a deep slumber. “Stop leading him on when we both know he’s not what you want.”

“You have no idea what I want.”

“I know what you want better than you do,” he hisses, so close now I can feel his breath against my lips.

I gasp when he kicks my ankle to the side, forcing me to part my legs. My entire body clenches as his hand disappears up my skirt. I don’t tell him to stop, I don’t even try.

I let him touch me, I let him pull my panties down my thighs enough for him to get to me without clothing, knowing Stanley or Lane could walk around the corner at any moment. Yet the latter, the getting caught is what makes this feel even more deliriously erotic.

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