Love's Dance

by Karen Deen

Today after the normal morning conversations, or rants I should call them, the day just continued to get worse. Little Johnathan was being silly and not listening and kept climbing up on the chairs. Of course, he fell and knocked loose his front teeth. His mom was less than impressed.

  During my lunch break I spent an hour on the phone to the electricity company who were threatening to cut off my power. They’d lost the record of my payment I made a month ago.

  Needless to say, I was pushed over the edge and not ashamed to say voices were raised, with a few choice cusses thrown in if they didn’t promise to fix the situation. It must have worked because my power is still on. For how long, I don’t know. Who knows what I’m going to find when I open the studio tomorrow morning.

  But that wasn’t the end of it. The cherry on the top for today, was when one of my twelve-year-old girls told me she felt sick as she projectile vomited across the dance floor, sending screaming dancers in every direction.

  By the time I reach the bathroom and turn on the taps, I’m standing in only my panties and bra. I lean on the counter and look in the mirror. Looking back at me is a woman I no longer recognize. A week ago, she was a driven, focused dancer who wasn’t even looking sideways. Her only concern was being completely ready for this audition.

  Today, I see someone who still wants all of that and is working her ass off to get there, however there is a little glimmer in her eyes. One that is telling her that perhaps there is something more she wants in her life. Or actually, to be honest, someone. No one has ever made her lose focus before, ever. Yet here I am, staring at this woman who has a small fire smoldering in her belly for the most arrogant man she has ever met. That woman in the mirror is me. The confused woman who has never felt like this before.

  The aroma of lavender circles me as I turn off the taps. Slipping my bra off for the day is the best feeling. Being a dancer, I don’t have huge breasts, but they are an average C-Cup. Slowly, I run my hands over them, thinking how it would feel to have Grant’s hands touching me. Would he be gentle and soft? Or would he be rough, taking my breath away with pleasurable pain? While my mind drifts off into my fantasy world, I slowly slide my panties off. The water’s hot and welcoming as I lower my aching body into the bath. This is exactly what I need, to lay here and continue dreaming of Grant and his hands touching my body in wicked ways.

  I rest my head back on a folded towel on the edge of the bath. Closing my eyes, I picture Grant’s dark eyes full of lust and heat. Just like in the studio when I was nearly naked. The look of wanting to devour me, telling what he wanted to do to me and his seductive promises if I went along with it. He had me hot and bothered. My hands continue kneading my breasts, water lapping over the top of them. My nipples are hard and erect, letting me know I’ve woken them up and they want more. They want Grant sucking them into his strong mouth and biting down. A slight moan escapes my mouth. I started something and there’s no going back until I find relief. My right hand starts the slow decent from my breasts to the top of my pelvis. I hesitate. It’s been a while since I touched myself like this. No one has put me in the mood... until Grant. Every time I close my eyes, he’s there

  I creep my fingers down into the hair above my clit, dipping down between my legs where I wish Grant was. Dragging two fingers up the length of my slit and brush over my hard nub, it has me moaning again, this time intensely. I can’t deny my arousal. I want Grant and I want him here in the bath touching me and fucking me, hard. The more I think of the different positions he would want to take me in, the harder I rub myself. My hand works feverishly to bring me to the climax my body needs. I slide a finger into my vagina where my muscles tighten and scream for release. My thumb presses firmly on my clit, my hips moving rhythmically in the water. I’m so close to tipping over the edge, I pinch my nipple, twisting enough for that pleasurable pain. Just as I climax, one name screams from my lips. The name belonging to one man I can’t have.

  This was the only place I could ever indulge in my fantasies of Grant.

  In the privacy of my own home.

  As my body slowly starts to come down from the release, I feel my muscles finally relaxing. No amount of alcohol, laughing with friends, or eating chocolate can ever make me feel as good as a nerve-tingling orgasm. Well, except for that orgasm personally handled by Grant which I know will never happen. Closing my eyes, head back, I drift off to a place where my worries aren’t welcome.

  Grant, why did you have to choose now to come into my life? Right when I can’t do a goddamn thing about it.

  Focus is what I need. But I just can’t seem to focus on the right thing. I need to remember, tomorrow is a new day and I can try again then.

  Let’s face it, tomorrow has to be a better day than today.

  Grant

  Sleep is certainly not my friend at the moment. For a man who has never had a problem sleeping, these last few nights have been killing me. I end up getting out of bed while it’s still dark and head out early for my morning run. It’s 4:30AM and all I can think about as I pound the pavement is seeing Zara today.

  She totally consumes my thoughts and I need to get a handle on it. I’m getting desperate to get her in my life and the lack of restraint I have over my thoughts is so out of character. It’s pissing me off. Every time I think of Zara, it’s the vision of her wet, standing before me in only her towel, one that barely covers her body. How my dick didn’t punch out of my pants right then is a miracle. The drops of water slowly running down her chest and disappearing between her breasts nearly killed me. I would’ve liked to use my tongue to lick her dry.

  For God’s sake, I need to stop replaying that vision. Zara deserves more respect than to be the subject of my fantasies. As much as I want her body wrapped around mine, her sassy attitude and her bravery to stand up to me is just as much a turn on. No one has ever challenged me the way Zara does. I want more of that.

  Showered and dried, I stand in my walk-in wardrobe with just a towel around my hips. Looking down at my sculpted body, I consider what Zara thinks of me. Whether she likes what she sees or whether she prefers the body of a lean dancer. I am sure they are strong, but they’re not as big as me or my brothers. We have been blessed in the size department. Not just the width of my shoulders or the muscles and abs I work so hard on in the gym, but one thing I can guarantee is that no dancer would be able to hide a dick my size in any dance tights. Especially if he was dancing with Zara at the time. If it was me dancing with her then it would be very obvious what my dick thinks about her.

  When my mind starts to think of my cock and Zara in the same sentence, I know I’m in trouble. If I’m going to make it to work, I need to calm my imagination… and ego. Time to think about other things. Work is always a good distraction when I need to focus my thoughts.

  Knowing Zara has only seen me in a suit, I consider my wardrobe before going to pick up the kids from school and take Sophia to dancing. She’s got to see I’m not always straight-laced and contrived. Not that I’m ever not put together, but sometimes I’m a lot stuffier than others. My family are the only ones who’ve seen me in jeans and a shirt. I work most weekends, so suits are my usual state of dress. I feel confident with a tie, shoulders back in the tailored suit. It’s the feeling of power I love. I never abuse that power, but I use it to keep the family company moving forward for success. Many people rely on me to keep business at its peak. Not only the family but our staff who rely on their jobs to feed their families and pay their mortgages. I take that role seriously. I would never forgive myself if we had to put people out of work. My Dad built this business up from the ground through hard work and grit. He never to this day, put any worker out of a job. I need to keep his company running out of respect for all he did to get it to where it is today.

  Thinking through what my day entails, I decide on a suit but reach for my jeans and a black V-neck t-shirt that fit snug across my chest and arms. The jeans will be for when I pick up the kids and take Princess Sophia to dance class. Let’
s see the reaction from Zara at my change in style. Out of the suit, and in my tight black shirt. I may or may not have deliberately grabbed the shirt that shows off my abs and arms the best. I work hard in my personal gym as well as in the gym next door to the office.

  My sisters tell me that a man in shape is going to attract women. I couldn’t care what they say, but what I do care about is what Zara thinks.

  Would she even notice?

  It remains to be seen this afternoon. Time to turn up the heat and see if Zara can give in to what she’s feeling when we’re in the same room. There’s no way she can ignore that electricity for long.

  I already messaged my secretary, Louisa, last night for her to rearrange this afternoon’s schedule. I need it clear to allow me to take Sophia and Samuel and not have to worry about trying to get back to the office by a certain time. If there’s one thing I’ve learned since Sophia and Samuel came into my life, it’s that you have to be ready to give them your full attention. Especially Samuel. His energy level is high, and he needs to be entertained.

  I’ve never thought much about children in my life before now. A lot would have to change in my lifestyle to accommodate a family. Working seven days a week wouldn’t be possible, not that I would want to be doing that if I had a family and a wife I love dearly. Watching my mom and dad and how they raised us, I know I would want to be like that with my children. My dad was always in control of the whole family and made sure we were all safe.

  I have taken on that role now. I take great pride in it, even though it can be quite draining. However, I can imagine if I had my own babies, my protective nature would go crazy. It’s going to take a strong woman to marry me and put up with my intensity. The love she would receive in return, along with so many more benefits would hopefully outweigh my bad traits.

  Zara has already worked her way into my head and woken up my cock. She’s the first woman ever to make me think of all these things.

  Watching her with the students shows me how good she is with children.

  Listening to her take me to task and banter back and forwards, is sexy as fuck and makes me rock hard. My cock is surely interested in pursuing that feeling more often.

  I need to get to the office and straight into today’s workload. I don’t want anything keeping me from the twins this afternoon, and definitely not from seeing Zara.

  Today is the first day of my plan to make Zara mine.

  I’m not completely possessive, but I know one thing, and that is I want Zara to be mine and mine alone.

  I’m not good at sharing. Zara better be the same. I don’t even know her story yet, but I will soon enough. My story is simple.

  I love to fuck women, no strings attached. I’m never an asshole, but I make sure they knew the deal right from the start. There are no overnight stays, no relationships, no hanging around. I don’t have the time for a relationship, but I do have needs, like all men and women. Take it or leave it, that’s who I am. My family has never seen me bring home a date. They aren’t stupid, they know I hook up with women, but they realize it’s nothing serious.

  Zara’s different. She’s the first woman to make me stop and take notice of more than her looks and what she could do to ease my urges. Zara’s so much more. She stimulates my mind, and makes me want to get to know her. I want to know what makes her tick, what makes her smile, cry, get angry, laugh and of course, horny and aroused. Because just looking at her has my mind and sex drive running overtime.

  My cell vibrates in my pocket. It snaps me out of my Zara daydream. I have never lost concentration from work or on anything, let alone a woman. This shit, I need to get on top of.

  “Mom, how are you?” I answer after seeing her smiling face coming up on my phone. Mom is pretty good and never calls me at work unless it’s important.

  “Hello, sweetheart. How are you today?”

  “Fine, Mom. How are you and Dad? Is everything okay?”

  “Of course, Grant, why wouldn’t it be?”

  “Mom, because you never call me at work unless it’s important, so I was worried somethings wrong.”

  “Oh, Grant, sorry, darling. I didn’t mean to worry you. I just want to check you are right to pick up the kids this afternoon from school and take Sophia to dancing. She loves it so much, I don’t want her to miss it because Zach and Emily are busy with Thomas. Sammy also needs a bit of attention, so he doesn’t think Thomas has taken his place in the family. Also, your father and I would like to stay a while at the hospital tonight and have a good visit with them all. Do you think you could take the kids to dinner before you bring them to the hospital? That way they will be ready for a bath then bed when Zach takes them home? If it is a problem, I can cut my visit short. I can just leave earlier than your father.” Mom falls silent waiting for my answer. Surely, she knows what I’m going to say.

  “Of course, that is okay, Mom. I will take the kids for dinner after dancing and then we’ll come for a short visit with Thomas, Zach, and Emily. I’m sure I can manage to feed them and keep them settled. I mean, how hard can it be, they are just kids?” I hear Mom laughing on the other end.

  “I am sure wherever you pick will be fine. The kids will soon tell you if it isn’t. But just don’t let Sammy pull the wool over your eyes on how many servings of ice cream he’s allowed. You know he’s good at that.”

  “Mom, I run a big company with a lot of staff, I think I can handle two seven-year-olds,” I grumble.

  All I hear is Mom laughing in hysterics and trying to get the words out, but it’s mumbled garbage. “Grant, we will see about that, won’t we? Good luck, and I will see you at the hospital tonight. Ring me if you have any trouble so we don’t have to disturb Zach and Emily. I can’t wait to hear all about it.” She’s still trying to stop herself from laughing but fails. I don’t understand what’s so funny, but I guess I’ll find out later. Looking at my watch, I realize I now only have thirty minutes before I need to leave to collect the twins from school. Time to wind up my work day and get ready for an interesting afternoon and night.

  12

  Zara

  Time to go shopping and buy some new clothes. I’m not sure I can recall the last time I went shopping for myself. Looking in my wardrobe, it tells a sorry story. The shelves and drawers are full of dance/gym gear and not much else.

  I have to at least purchase a nice dress or suit for my interview with the dance company. Part of the audition process involves being interviewed by the Board of the dance company. A successful audition is not just on your dance ability. They also want to know about your commitment to the company and your ability to perform under pressure. I have always been a calm person who handles the stresses of a show. Knowing this could be my last shot at a position in the company, I have to nail this interview.

  My dancing, I am not worried about. I know my choreography is great and my dancing is the strongest it’s been in years. Being positive is the most important thing I can do because I desperately want this spot in the company. It’s my life’s dream. It might sound cliché but from a little girl all I wanted to do was dance. Not to just dance anywhere, but to dance at the top.

  New York Dance Company is the top of the tree. The elite dancers. By becoming a member of the company, you are set for life. It’s the key to opening any door in the dance world after you retire from stage dancing. All that aside, I’m doing this because I just want to dance.

  I love nothing more in life than to be overtaken by the power of music. Using your body to express feelings and tell a story is special. It is a gift that I desperately want to be able to share with the world.

  My cell buzzes on top of the chest of drawers. I glance at the caller ID to see if it’s worth answering or not. I receive plenty of calls a day and they don’t stop at night time. Parents of my students can be so rude and inconsiderate of after-hours communications. Majority are really beautiful parents and understand that ten at night until seven in the morning is my time and is unacceptable for a phone cal
l. However, some parents don’t understand the concept of boundaries. They’re the same ones who have their children dancing ten classes a week at the age of ten, believing that their child is going to be a star. I have one Mom in particular, who takes the prize for the biggest dance Mom I’ve seen. She won’t leave that poor little girl alone. She’s constantly pushing her to dance more, compete in more competitions, watch what she’s eating and spends her whole time in the studio telling the other parents how good she is. If she is not annoying the other parents, she’s trying to get my attention to tell me her daughter needs to move up to the higher age group because these classes are too easy for her. Don’t get me wrong, her daughter is a beautiful dancer and the most gorgeous and polite little girl. I feel sorry for her. Watching her in class, all she wants to do is dance for fun like her friends. Not be worried about the next competition she has coming up or what her mother is going to say at the end of class to embarrass her.

  Her face drops every time her mother opens her mouth. I’m afraid one day, she will rebel against her and give up dancing. All because her mother is trying to live through her daughter. It will be a real shame because her whole face lights up when she starts to dance. I will do my best to try to make sure that never happens, even if I have to stand up to her mother. It will be worth it, just to see Melina happy and dancing.

  I swipe my phone to answer it after I see Xavier’s calling.

  “Hey, Xavier. What’s up?”

  “Hey, Zara. You took your time answering. What were you up to?”

  “Just assessing my dismal wardrobe and about to head out shopping to find something for the audition interview. What are you doing calling me up in the middle of the day, shouldn’t you be working?”

  “I just had a quick minute, so I wanted to call you while Natalie is busy with a client. You know it is her birthday in a few weeks’ time and I want to organize a surprise party for her. Can you help me do it? I have no idea where to hold it or who to invite. She doesn’t have many friends and never gets out much, so I want to try to give her a big bash and invite people she doesn’t even know to get her to meet some new people.” Xavier takes a big breath after rushing through telling me his plans.