AllFreeNovel
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He pops open the top of the CD player, putting a disk in the middle and clicking the top down. Switching the player to turn it on, he clicks Play, andCanon in Dstarts by Johann Pachelbel. I smile at him knowing this is one of my favorites.
I stretch a little bit as I walk around, feeling my limbs and muscles flex and bend. I go up on my toes, and back on my feet. I spin around, doing a plié and going back down again. I twirl, bending and moving to the music as gracefully as the melody tells me to. It speaks to me, it always has. No words are needed with this type of music, it bleeds into my skin and I move however it wishes me to.
I spin and spin, floating through the air from one side of the studio to the next. I don't even pay attention to Roman, although I know he's paying attention to every move and step I take. He knows my dances well enough to know what needs to be improved on. He's listened to my teacher ream me out about the silliest, smallest things. But they aren't small to her, and if I want to get into Julliard, I need to be as focused as she tells me to be.
The crescendo of the song builds, and I can feel my heart expand with emotion. My eyes well as I dance, feeling the emotion rip through me as I give it my all. Suddenly, I spin around, and there is Roman. He stands on the other side of the studio in the middle of the wooden floor, arms at his sides.
He waits.
I run to him, as fast as I can, and when I'm within reach, he lifts me at my waist and extends me in the air. His arms don’t shake. His body is certain, still, strong. Perfect as he keeps me in the air and suspends me above him. I point my toes as he spins me around, and then he slowly brings me back down his body. I wrap my legs and arms around him as I hold him tight, laying my lips on his.
I love him so much.
"You dance beautifully. Every single step you take has the most breathtaking emotion in it. It's almost heartbreaking to watch you."
My eyes start to water again, and I nod. Because I know how he feels. Sometimes it's sad when I dance. A sadness buried deep within me comes out, and it’s a darkness I only show when I dance. I'm not a sad person, and there's nothing depressing about me, but sometimes, when I dance, this uncontrollable grief hits me in the center of my chest.
I dance until the heaviness goes away. Dancing always makes me feel better. Every. Single. Time.
He sets me down. "Keep going. I want to watch more."
I do.
I dance and continue dancing, pressing all my weight in my toes until I can feel them start to crack and bleed. I float myself in the air until I feel like I'm going to touch the clouds, and I extend my arms as if I can wrap myself around Roman from across the room.
Wandering over to the bar, I stretch into a split, curling and stretching my back to rid the ache. Only soon enough I can hear Roman's footsteps behind me, and then his hands are there on my waist, lifting me off the ground as he spins me around. He sets me on the bar, and I wobble a bit.
"This won't hold me." I worry, trying to grab onto his shoulders for support.
His eyebrows lift. "You weigh five pounds. It'll hold you just fine."
He walks between my legs, keeping his hands planted on my waist. I roll my spine, bending down until my lips press against his. He kisses me deeply, plunging his tongue into my mouth. His kiss is heated, turned on. He swallows my moan, his fingers going between my leotard and pressing against my sex, which is already damp.
"Stop, we can't do this here." I look to the left, where the windows are. They’re big and wide, no curtains to shield us from pedestrians. Anyone could see us. This town is small enough where everyone knows everyone. One look in here and our parents would know we were fooling around.
Not like they don't already know.
But there's one thing—we haven't had sex. Not yet, anyway. Not that I haven't tried. Roman puts it off, telling me I'm not ready.
That doesn't mean we haven't done everything else.
Why he won't go that extra step is beyond me. I've practically begged at this point, but all he tells me is that it should be special.Hewants it to be special.
And that is exactly why I'm in love with him.
"I know we can't. I just can't help it when you dance like that. You're so fucking breathtaking." He lifts me off the bar, sliding me down his body. I reach up on my tiptoes, giving him another kiss. I push him across the studio, back through the back room where I change for the evening.
I press him against the wall, raising my leg so it's over his waist. "I want you," I moan. "I want you now."
He groans. "Not here. Not now."
"When?" I whine.
"When it will be special." He presses his fingers between my thighs, rubbing the ache that grows whenever I'm around him. "I can make you feel better now, though." He slides his fingers beneath my leotard, finding my naked folds wet and ready.
I'm ready. I'vebeenready.
He sticks a finger in, and I grunt around the pressure as he starts fingering me. I reach down to his erection and squeeze, knowing he's just as pent up with tension as I am. I drop to my knees, grappling at his button until his pants are loose and I'm shimmying them down his waist.
