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“Stay put. I won’t be long, and our family has to have a presence at the performance.”
My brothers slump back in their chairs, grumbling about how that’s supposed to be my responsibility.
Silvia smiles knowingly. “Good luck,” she breathes and gives me a wink before turning back to the brightly lit stage.
My gut twists at the genuine and entirely too-sweet support. I’m sure if she knew all the things I have running through my brain that I plan on doing to Anya when I see her, Silvia wouldn’t be all for it.
Regardless, her encouragement bolsters my determination. I storm down the stairs toward the dressing rooms, ready to confront Anya and maybe break her partner’s face if he happens to be in the vicinity.
Backstage is a maze of halls and doorways, some marked Props, others Dressing Room or Closet. Finally, after bursting through several Dressing Room doors that seem to be empty, I find a hallway with brightly colored sticky notes, each with a student’s name on it.
I quickly read each name as I make my way down the hall and finally find the one designating it Anya’s room. I don’t hesitate as I grip the door handle and shove the door open so forcefully that it crashes against the dressing room wall.
Anya stands before me, her back turned so I can see the low cut of her leotard that scoops way down until just a few inches before her tutu. Her back is slender, her skin smooth and creamy, her spine a delicate, fragile line down the curve of it. Her makeup looks even more dramatic close up, the dark black and silver around her eyes making their sky-blue color stand out brilliantly. Her full red lips are parted in apparent shock, and the instant our eyes meet, I see her body tense.
Gripping the door as I step into the room, I jerk it closed behind me and lock it.
13
ANYA
My heart hammers an erratic beat as dread washes through me. I don’t know why Nicolo came to find me in my dressing room, but I’m sure his reasons can’t be good. I whirl to face him, bracing myself against the makeup counter as I prepare to defend myself. I feel like a cornered rabbit with nowhere to run or hide.
Nicolo’s eyes are almost crazed, they burn so intensely, and he strides across the small room toward me, his impressive figure striking fear in my heart. “I’ve decided I can’t stand letting other men touch you,” he states, his tone filled with emotion that borders on rage. “I don’t care that you’re poor and so clearly from an inferior family. I want you–and I take what I want.”
The hair rises on the back of my neck as Nicolo closes the distance between us until he’s looming over me, looking down the length of his nose at me as he states it as smoothly and confidently as if he’s always owned me–I just didn’t know it yet. Though my lips part in protest, he’s on top of me before I can say anything, his arms wrapped around me, his hips pressing me back into the makeup counter’s edge. His mouth crashes down on mine as he kisses me violently, taking advantage of my parted lips to stroke his tongue into my mouth, exploring me intimately. He groans as if taking his first drink of water after days in the desert. The sound makes my stomach tighten as my traitorous body responds instinctively to his forceful advance.
The earthy, masculine scent of his cologne fills my nose, sending me back to our night together in high school. The flash of memory brings tears to my eyes even as my core tightens from the ghost of our passionate sex. My arms are trapped against his broad, muscular chest, and I push against him, futilely trying to force space between us. I might as well be shoving against a wall for all the good it does. Nicolo has me trapped in such a fierce embrace, I can’t move or breathe. His lips consume me, daring me to resist, and I start to tremble beneath his ardent assault. I can feel his excitement as he grinds against me, the way he enfolds me so entirely.
I don’t want him to touch me. I desperately want to be free of his embrace. It brings to life all that pain of having been rejected by him years ago. But my body seems to have missed the message, and my knees grow weak as my heart thrums like a hummingbird’s wings inside my chest. One of his strong hands cradles the back of my head, locking me in place as Nicolo’s tongue strokes mine, exploring my mouth, and I can feel his erection growing as he crushes my tutu between us.
Finally, he breaks our kiss long enough to catch his breath. My chest heaves against him as I gulp in air, fighting the tears that sting the back of my eyes. Now that his lips no longer imprison mine, I push against his chest more intently, trying to indicate that I don’t want him near me. He doesn’t even seem to notice as his biceps lock me in place.
“I bet you’ve never been kissed like that before, have you,mia bella?” he purrs, his hazel eyes molten as they burn into mine. “Would you like another?” He glances toward my mouth and licks his lower lip, moistening it as if in anticipation of a delicious meal.
He leans in, fully prepared to violate me further, and I jerk my head back, fighting the light pressure of his fingers cupping the back of my head. Somehow, it cuts deeper to know that even after kissing me, even with his arms wrapped so tightly around me, Nicolo doesn’t recognize me at all. I truly meant nothing to him in high school. And that fact makes my chest constrict painfully. To know that I have been so permanently impacted from one night with this man. Meanwhile, he hasn’t spared two thoughts about me.
Nicolo’s eyes flicker from lust to anger as he absorbs my rejection for the first time. The hand at the back of my neck shifts, and he takes my jaw firmly in his strong grip. My heart stutters, and my stomach flips as his gaze silently warns me, almost daring me to try resisting his advances again. His eyes flick down to my forcefully puckered lips, mere inches from his. Holding my face in place with his fingers, Nicolo kisses me violently, forcing a response from me as he strokes his tongue into my mouth once more.
The hand twined around my waist trails up my body, keeping me pinned against his chest even as he twists his fingers into my hair to keep my lips locked with his. And the hand clamped on my jaw releases me to slide down and wrap around my throat. Fear grips me, and I freeze as I wonder if he might just strangle me. I don’t think I could stop him if he really chose to do it. His fingers squeeze gently, constricting my airway for only a moment before his hand softens to trail lower until he’s groping my breast over the plain black fabric of my leotard.
His body leans into mine so forcefully I can’t keep myself upright without more support, but I’m determined to not let him put me flat on my back. I don’t want to expose myself any further to him or make him think he can force himself inside me. Throwing my hand out behind me, I brace against the counter, resisting his pressure. He seems to take it as an invitation, pushing his erection more aggressively against me as his hand explores every inch of my body.
“You’ll be mine to fuck whenever I please,” he breathes against my lips. “And in return, you won’t want for anything. No more ratty, threadbare clothes. I’ll dress you like a queen.”
He really thinks he can break down my defenses that easily? That I would sell my body to him for some nicer clothes?I would never–especially not to a man like Nicolo, who has abused me in so many terrible ways. A poisonous combination of anger and pain rises up inside me, and I want to scream for him to get off me, to leave me the hell alone.
But before I can tell him to fuck off, his lips capture mine once more. His groping hand wraps around my hip and moves beneath my tutu to grip my ass, massaging the taut muscle. A wave of arousal washes through me against my wishes, and hot shame pools in my cheeks as I fight the natural urge to let him touch me. Despite the hate boiling inside me, I yearn to feel his hands on me, boldly exploring my body.
Something about Nicolo brings me to life, compelling me into a sexual frenzy unlike what I feel with anyone else. In that instant, I know I will always respond to him this way, but I can’t let him hurt me again. I don’t think my heart would survive it. I hate it. I hate that he can make me feel so overwhelmed with attraction to him, even after all the pain he’s caused me.
If I agreed to be with Nicolo, if I let him have me, I would end up with another broken heart when he tossed me aside again. I can’t stand that. He left my life in ruins the last time he fucked me and walked away. He destroyed my heart and took my innocence without a second thought.
As Nicolo continues to assault me, simply trying to resist him is clearly not going to work. But I’m desperate to get him off me. My body and mind are so conflicted that I can’t take it anymore. If I don’t stop him, I might just do something I know I’m going to regret. As Nicolo’s lips punish mine, consuming me as he grinds against me, I see my opportunity and bite down on the soft pad of his lower lip.
He jerks away with a yelp, his eyes furious as he brings his fingers to his face and gingerly touches the small cut I left as a warning. “You fucking bit me,” he says in surprise, looking down at his hand to confirm I drew blood. He licks it away with his tongue as though the injury were an afterthought.
“I don’t want you, Nicolo. You need to leave. Right now.” My voice trembles despite my determination to sound firm and confident.
