by Amber Burns
That morning, as Dave prepared to leave to attend club business, Adel was still in bed. He leaned and placed a tender kiss on her temple. He didn’t want to wake her up. It was still too early, and he wanted her to rest well before she went to her afternoon training at the ballet company. He took another moment to admire the amazing woman in his bed. Her face looked so peaceful, just beginning for another kiss before he left.
“Rage fucking Carter late for the first time in the goddamn history of humanity,” shouted Stalk as a greeting. Dave snorted. Stalker could celebrate his little victory to the content of his heart.
“Had something nicer in front of my eyes than you sorry ass,” he spanked Stalk’s ass jokingly as he walked over to his own bike.
They had to run some errands for the club that morning. It had been a while since Rage let himself relax in his friend's company. As happy as he was with Adel, he always had a feeling that he was walking along a sharp blade and one tiny slip could unleash a disaster. He hoped it was just him being overprotective of her, but there was this nagging feeling inside him, that something was still amiss.
“Don’t look at me with that sappy face of yours. A bit more of that ballerina romance and you’ll start wearing a tutu instead of a cut,” Stalk kicked him in the leg and hurriedly started his bike to avoid an answering kick from Rage.
As he hit the road a sudden realization washed over him. He had never seen any ballet shoes, any bodice or whatever ballerinas were supposed to wear for their training. The more he thought about it, the bitter it tasted on his tongue. She was never a quitter. Never. More than anything and anyone in this life his Adel loved ballet.
Finishing his work, Dave hurried to the ballet company. She was still supposed to be at her training. He could pick her up and they could sit down and talk about all of this.
Her car was not in the parking lot. Another wave of unease squeezed his heart. This could not be possible. He was totally overreacting and making up things. Dave fishes his phone and dialed Adel's number. She answered on the first ring.
“Hey,” her voice was too cheerful; “I missed you already.”
“Me too, baby. I came to pick you up from your training. Waiting for you at the entrance,” he bit at his lip as he waiting for several long moments until she took long shuddering breaths.
"I am not there," she spoke eventually and her voice was too tiny, too miserable. Rage hated the sting of self-loathing he heard in it.
“Did you finish early?” he asked with one final drop of hope. He knew he was lying to himself.
“Rage, I’ve never been back to training. I guess you know it.” Then, she let the heavy silence hang between them. Neither of them spoke, as rage burst through Dave. If he were not blinded by this love he would’ve noticed it earlier, would’ve understood it from the carelessly easy attitude of her. He had been lying to himself at his love was making it easier for her to cope with the hardship. No such bullshit. All he had been doing was coating her with sweetness while letting her ruin her life.
As he rode back home, Rage carefully planned his next words. He was not going to let his love or rage blind him ever again. He needed to maintain his cool.
Dave ‘Rage’ Carter would be damned if he pushed the only woman he had ever loved away from him. But if he didn’t do it, he would hate himself for the rest of his life for his inaction, while she ruined the biggest dream of her life. And even worse – she would eventually hate him for that. He was not going to be her ally in killing her dreams. If she was going to use their love as a shield to hide behind it from the hurt of her failure and justify her inaction with it, he would crash that love with his own bare hands.
Adel was waiting for him as he arrived home. Her huge green-gold eyes were filled with so much pain that it hurt to look into them. He was not going to spare her feelings now.
"Now, we are going to the bedroom and we are going to make love," he spoke to her without tearing his eyes from hers. Her eyes widened with surprise. "And after that, you are going to collect your luggage and leave for New York this very evening. Do whatever it takes. Train as much as you need. And if you are still unable to dance, find another way to use your fucking talent – teach ballet classes, try choreographer, or whatever damn thing you want to do. Anything, just don't sit here and pity yourself for the rest of your life."
He knew his words were harsh, but sparing her feelings now, would mean helping her ruin herself. Damned be he, if he was not pushing her away from him yet again. For all he knew, this time, it could be for good. But if that was going to be the price he needed to pay for her happiness, he was going to do it.
She looked into his eyes stubbornly daring him to change his mind, to regret his decision to make her leave. Eventually, she launched herself into his arms and let him kiss and make love to her. Maybe even for the last time. He did not know, but he was never going to give up on her. Dave ‘Rage’ Carter tried to put his vow to do everything in his power to bring her back into their farewell kiss before letting Adel step out of his time yet again.
8
“The biker and the ballerina – sound like a fucking soap opera to me,” laughed Stalk.
It had recently become his favorite occupation to pull at the strings of Rage’s heart. That’s what best friends were for after all – to have fun on one’s misery in the worst possible way.
“They could totally be the character from ‘The Nutcracker’,” added Nastia in her dreamy voice.
The two of them had developed some friendship recently. Rage thought it was amusing. He had never even properly thanked them for their first disaster of a date, which resulted in his and Adel’s meeting and … relationship. He still wanted to think they were in a relationship, although he had been the one to send her away to pursue her dream and she was not very comfortable with the whole idea of long-distance and commitment.
Still, he was seeing her every night in her dreams and no other woman existed for him in the whole world. No other man in Adel's life either. So for a simple direct man, as Rage was, that still qualified as a commitment to their relationship.
“Perfect! Nutcracker it is. Both are nuts and somewhat cracked,” Stalk screamed bringing Rage back from his gloomy thoughts.
He had been thinking too much – way over the reasonable healthy borderline of over-thinking. Stalk’s smartass comment earned him a playful slap from Nastia.
“Well, you definitely are the evil rat king,” she said. Goodness, she was still looking at him with some lust in her eyes, yet she always kept him at an arm’s distance. A smart woman! “Stop teasing him. If you have a good idea, share it with us, if no, shut up and let us think.”
If Stalk would ever be ready to go into a steady relationship, this woman would be his perfect old lady. Rage always knew it took a very special person to deal with his best friend’s crazy. But none of them was in a hurry to even try to give into that emotional turmoil. Instead, they were gladly playing matchmaker’s role trying to fix Rage’s shuttered life.
"What do you expect me to say, woman? I can't even recognize the man who was once named ‘Rage' by his MC brothers. Can you hear me – ‘Rage’ – which is the opposite of lachrymose, petty loser that is standing in front of us.” Stalk had totally switched into his show runner mode and was now circling around their table and animatedly pointing at Rage to enunciate his every word. "The Dave ‘Rage' Carter I knew was a man of action. I don't know this guy. Forgive me, my pretty ballerina, I have no suggestions for this sorry ass," he raised his arms in surrender.
That was exactly what he had become. Dave wondered himself where had been the badass biker, the ambitious stubborn ex-military, the bad boy, who had been rocking his world and the club and any place he graced with his presence. That man was nowhere to be seen. If once asked Stalk – that man was now carefully wrapped between the lacy layers of a certain ballerina’s tutu and enjoying her every pirouette.
Dave stormed out of the room. He had had enough of this talk. It took
him a few moments to clear his thoughts and understand where he was heading to.
9
Dave woke up feeling Adel stir next to him. She was moaning in her dream – it was a pained muffled sound. He hated hearing it. It was the injury troubling her again, he knew it.
She had been working hard to keep her shape and although the doctors ensured that the injury had been cured the best it could, the pain was always there – as a reminder of a shuttered dream. She was never going to be prima. Ever. She would simply dance and with years it will get harder and harder. But she had accepted it silently – without drama or tears. It was only the nightmares that gave no rest to her always reminding her of the lost dream.
Dave started massaging her leg. Maybe he could, at least, take away the pain torturing her. He loved the view of her fair skin against his colored tattooed arms. It felt like touching something so fragile, something that could break if he put too much pressure.
He rubbed her ankle in slow circular motions, then traced his fingers up her leg, massaged her legs. The tension slowly left her body and she relaxed against him. Still in sleep, Adel let out some sounds of pleasure, her body leaned toward him. Dave paused. He could be accounted guilty for many things, but seducing a woman in her sleep was not going to happen - even if that was his woman.
“That was a very hot way to wake up your woman,” she murmured with her eyes still closed. A lazy smile lit her face. “Why did you stop?”
“Always happy to serve my Adel,” he kissed her temple, “I just thought you’d want some more sleep. It is still early.”
“Well, now that you’ve woke me up, you should do something about it,” she teased him.
Using his arm as a pillow under her head, she turned into it and kissed his wrist. Rage groaned. His ballerina was feeling naughty this morning, how could he every refuse her? Snuggling up closer to him, she let him know what exactly she wanted. Dave spooned her from behind, wrapping his arms around her body – she felt so tiny against him. She shuddered as his planted kisses down her neck and shoulders. Both still sleepy and lazy, their hands moved slowly, caressing each other, warming up their bodies. Her fingers found their way to his cock, which burst to life immediately at her tender touch. Oh, she knew how to drive him over the edge. So much for wanted tender intimate cuddling.
Rage’s own hand slid between her legs to find the tight hot opening he craved for. She did not make it easy for him. She squeezed him, pressing her legs together firmly. Accepting the challenge, his invading fingers slid deeper into her, rubbing her womanhood with every little inch their conquered. Her excitement wetted his way, helping him to slide in slightly easier, and then he was rewarded with the quivering of her lips and the hot hard clit, that immediately reacted to his touch. He smiled as he thought of the dark cinnamon coloring her clit should have now. He always loved how her excitement darkened her sensitive flesh.
“I am going to take you slow, so slow…” He bit at her earlobe and her body jerked, her eyes opened and he saw the sparkle of those maddeningly green-golden irises, her fingers dug into his skin.
“Dave, I need this in me, now!” She commanded, and her voice sounded so tiny and desperate with need. He would’ve given anything to this woman, anything she ever demanded. But, this morning he was still planning to torture her a bit longer.
“Not yet, baby, I’m still kinda busy here,” he said as he crooked his fingers inside her.
Adel jumped as the sudden wave of pleasure jolted inside her. Still distracting her with those two fingers, he managed to slide another finger further down and lightly press at the tiny opening of her ass. Immediately the tight muscles quivered under his touch. Her whole body tensed in anticipation, her pussy was dripping on his fingers eagerly. “Hmm, seems the back door is also begging for my attention.”
“No-no-nooow-owww,” was all Adel managed before the tip of his finger pushed inside and the tense muscles welcomed him with flexing around him, swallowing him in, hungrily asking for more.
He had almost forgotten about the danger his own hard cock was in. Her fingers tightened around him, as her whole body jerked surprised at the invasion of his finger. She squeezes him so hard that Rage almost came undone. He bit at his own lip, fighting back his release. He was still planning to give her much more before they were done.
“Isn’t this what you like, baby? A big bad boy on a bike?" He thrust his finger into her rear as he whispered into her ear.
Adel's whole body was possessed by multiple sensations from different parts of her body. He was intent on adding even more. He bit at her earlobe and sucked it hard into his mouth. Her free hand moved to cup her breast, but Rage caught it on the way.
“Now, that is also for me,” he said, as he took her delicate hand into his own and directed her to her breast. “I will show you how I like it,” he continued, as he enjoyed the pleasant shivers of her body every time he spoke dirty to her.
He closed her fingers around her cinnamon colored nipple. Adel panted softly as she followed his lead and rubbed the hardening bud between her fingers. She tugged at it again and again, as he continued running her clit with two fingers and pushing his finger inside her.
The stubborn tight muscle gave in and with every thrust accepted more of his finger. Adel’s grip on his cock tightened. She was desperate for more. Dave loved driving her mad with desire, he loved it when she forgot all the politeness of her ballet attitude and turned into a hungry little vixen in his arms. There was always so much concealed passion and pain, that she refused to talk about, but could let go of through sex.
Rage pulled out his finger, and took her hand into his, helping her to direct his cock into her opening. There was so much trust, so much intimacy in that simple action that they did together. Still spooned together, their bodies became one, inseparable, linked with the energy rushing from one body to the other. Adel squeezed him, still kept her legs tightly closed, making him work every time he thrust deeply into her.
So fragile, so tender to him. Rage thought he was going to lose his mind as he continued thrusting into his lover in deep long pushes. She had placed both her hands on his wrists and was holding him tightly; as if scared he could leave her alone and vanish. He could not see the expression in her bright green-golden eyes, but he could imagine her rolling her eyes every time he thrust, opening her mouth and moaning softly as the growing orgasm drove her over the edge.
Stimulating her G-spot every time he entered deep into her, Rage was rewarded with scratches and bites. How was he supposed to keep his sanity? He ordered her to bend her knee and, lifting her leg, he carefully pulled it backward positioning it on top of him. He was growing wild and impatient. With his hands roaming between her clit and breasts, Rage started thrusting into her with intensity.
A shiny drop of sweat ran down the side of her neck and Rage licked it hungrily. Their bodies as one, moved in perfect harmony until both of them were caught in the waves of release. The orgasm was amazing, but what took away his breath was the feeling of absolute closeness between them. All this time, Rage had been feeling as if he was tilting against windmills. Now, all of a sudden, she was so intimate, so open to him, and that caused a thrilling tightness in his stomach.
Rage planted slow kisses on her body, he held her tighter in his arms not ready to separate their bodies yet.
“This was good,” she murmured lazily. “I could even take a short morning nap now.”
“Sleep, baby, I’ll hold you tight,” he promised.
“I’m so tired, Dave, I don’t know if I can keep going on like this,” she whispered as her eyes closed. He tried to kiss away the uneasiness that crept back into her mind. If only he had the ability to slay the demons troubling her thoughts…
10
Rage did not have much time to think about the sleepy words Adel had told him earlier that morning until she came back after her rehearsal. He had decided to make dinner for them as he was going to leave the next morning. She looked tired, as expect
ed, but what made him really worry were the tiny sparkles of panic and fear. His beautiful ballerina looked like a scared wild bird trapped in a cage, breaking its wings while trying to get out of its captivity.
“Dave, do you think dreams can change?” she asked as she leaned over the kitchen island and stole a broccoli floret from the casserole he was making.
Rage resisted the urge to punish her by biting those fingers that had stolen the broccoli and kissing the mouth that had eaten it. The question was not a joke or small talk over dinner preparations. He concentrated on the vegetables for another minute to summarize his thoughts before he could answer her. Dave ‘Rage’ Carter had once believed that strong dreams lived and died with their owners. Once he believed that one could simply hide their dreams deep inside their minds and find new dreams – more suitable for the moment. It never meant that the old dreams were discarded or disowned.
