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Only him.
I sat at my vanity and pulled the pins from my hair, let my strands fall free from the restraints. My scalp immediately felt better once it wasn’t being tugged on in that insufferable bun. I felt beautiful while I performed, but with my hair pulled back like that, I never felt sexy.
Until Heath looked at me like that.
I ran my fingers through my hair and knew he would show his face at any moment.
I hadn’t even removed my makeup before he appeared in the reflection of my vanity, his stubble a thick shadow because he hardly ever shaved now that we were together…just because I liked it. The sport coat was an article of clothing that didn’t reflect his personality at all, but he was still sexy wearing it because of those broad-ass shoulders. He didn’t even need the pads that were usually stuffed inside jackets like that.
He came up behind me, his face no longer visible because he was right against me, his stomach and pectoral muscles the only thing in my view. One hand moved to my shoulder, and he gave me a gentle squeeze, his fingers digging into my shirt in a touch packed with ownership.
I closed my eyes for a second because that was all it took to turn me on.
“Get your ass up and kiss me.” His hand moved to the hair that fell down my back and gave it a gentle tug.
I left the bench and turned around to face him, finding him just as sexy when his tattoos were masked by his clothes. I kept the chair between us so he couldn’t grab me. “Not here.” I kept my voice low so the rest of the performers wouldn’t be able to hear my words.
His reaction was subtle, but it was potent. His eyes narrowed like I’d slighted him, and now he was about to blow like a volcano full of lava at his core. “What the fuck did you just say to me?” He kept his voice deep and low, but it was full of a threat that was actually terrifying.
My heart raced in dread, and I came closer to him. “Look, my family comes to my performances pretty often, and if the girls know I’m seeing somebody, they might mention it and—”
“Kiss me now.” He commanded me like a warlord, treating me like a soldier rather than a person. He laid down the law, drew a line in the sand. “Or I walk away.” He wasn’t the kind of man to make an idle threat, so he was dead serious. He waited for me to make my move, to piss him off and lose him altogether—or obey.
I wanted to be defiant out of principle, but the last thing I truly wanted to do was lose the best thing that had happened to me recently. Most people probably weren’t paying attention, so I might be able to get away with this without being questioned later. I moved into him and rose on my tiptoes, my palms planting against his chest.
His arm circled my waist, and he tugged me into his chest, kissing me hard while his hand dug into my hair. His kiss was totally inappropriate for the setting, and it was completely intentional, just to prove he didn’t give a damn what anyone thought, including me. He gave me his tongue and embraced me like we were behind locked doors, in a private setting.
I didn’t fight it.
He pulled away, his eyes still angry. “That’s what I thought.” He released me and stepped back, victorious.
“You’re ridiculous, you know that?”
“Oh, I know.”
I turned back to my vanity and gathered my things while he stood there, watching me. “You don’t own a suit?”
“No.”
“You know, there’s a dress code for these sorts of things.” I looked at his reflection in my vanity.
“Not for me.”
I put everything in my purse then turned back around. “What did you think of the show?”
“Boring. But you were fucking beautiful.”
Those words tugged at my heartstrings instantly. He wasn’t the kind of man to appreciate the ballet, but he still appreciated me. “Thanks…”
His arm hooked around my waist, and he guided me out the back door, walking past the rest of my crew like he wanted them to know I was his, even though all the male dancers were gay. He opened the door for me, and then we walked together down the path in the darkness, the exact path I took the first time I saw him.
Now he was beside me… It was crazy.
His large hand cupped my side while his thumb pressed into my back. His gaze was forward because he knew exactly where my car was as if he’d checked before he came into the theater. “Want to have dinner somewhere?”
“You want to go out with me when I look like this?” My makeup was heavy because I hadn’t wiped it away. My eye shadow was exaggerated, and my cheeks were pink with blush. I was in jeans and a shirt because I expected to go home as soon as the performance was over.
