Last Dance

by Renee Fowler

  “How are you feeling, Anna?” he mumbles.

  “Good.” My headache is gone anyways. Whether or not I’m still dizzy when I stand up next remains to be seen.

  I burrow against his chest. We’re both still in that hazy, half awake state where it seems perfectly natural for our legs to tangle together, and his hands to smooth along my spine, pressing me more closely against his solid warmth. Suddenly there’s something else solid, nudging firmly against my belly, and I swallow back a tiny whimper.

  “Sorry, Anna.” He rolls away, and scrubs a hand over his face. “It’s just a natural reaction to laying in bed beside you, but I know you’re not feeling well.”

  My body remembers perfectly the first time we were together, and my mind is already rushing ahead to how I can make this work without having to show him the ugly truth just yet. Under the covers, if I leave my shirt on, plus the room is fairly dark thanks to the heavy drapes covering the window. I lean over to kiss him. “I’m feeling a lot better.”

  “Are you sure you’re up for this already?” he mumbles against my mouth.

  “Mmhmm.”

  Everywhere he touches me, my skin ignites in flame. I’ve wanted this for weeks now, for an eternity, but when his fingers brush beneath my shirt, I freeze.

  “Can we… I’d like to keep this on.”

  “Huh?”

  “My shirt. I’d rather not… I would just feel more comfortable with it on.”

  “Anna, why won’t you let me touch you?”

  “I… I’m just insecure about certain parts of my body.”

  Jack gently nudges me off him. He sits up in bed, and reaches over to flick on the lamp. “We need to talk about this.”

  Nodding grimly, I sit up beside him.

  “I’m starting to think you have an eating disorder.”

  I laugh bitterly, and roll my eyes.

  “I’m being serious. What is it called when someone looks in the mirror and sees something that isn’t there? You have nothing to be insecure about, and you eat like a bird.”

  “I’m not suffering from body dysmorphia, and I don’t have an eating disorder,” I state firmly.

  Have I in the past? I still don’t know. In Gregory’s opinion, the chewing and spitting food was borderline bulimic. I’m not sure that I would go that far, but it was definitely nasty, and I eventually quit. Every so often I used to lose control, binge on all kinds of crap, then head down to the gym for a three hour ride on the elliptical to burn it off. But I stopped all that nonsense too after my accident. In either case, none of that has a thing to do with why I’m determined to keep my clothes on in front of Jack.

  “You’re right. We do need to talk. I may not have been completely honest with you about certain things.” Sitting up in bed, I pull the comforter around my waist, and stare down to where I wring my hands together on my lap. “I don’t think I’m an overly vain person, but it’s hard not to feel… particular about your body when you start to see it as a tool, and… I don’t know how to say this.”

  “Just say it, Anna. You can talk to me.”

  Why did I leave it this late? It’s so selfish. Jack is too good of a man to kick me out of his bed, especially after the events of last night. I’ve put him in a tough spot, and after everything else he’s been through, he deserves more than this.

  “I… can’t have children, for starters. I guess that’s a bit presumptuous, but if it’s something you are interested in-”

  “No,” he says firmly. “I’m really not. I already have Sarah.”

  I suck in a deep breath, let my cheeks puff up with air, and slowly let it back out. “I didn’t quit ballet voluntarily. I had to quit because I was struck by a car, and there are still a lot of… physical reminders left over, from the accident itself, and the surgeries I had after.”

  “Is that what this is all about? You think I care about that?”

  “You might,” I say in a strained voice.

  “I won’t.”

  “How do you know? You haven’t even seen it yet.”

  “I know because I care about you.” His fingers soothe along my shoulder, and the back of my neck. “Can I see?” he asks softly.

  There’s no running from it anymore. Beneath the covers I shimmy out of my leggings, and kick them towards the foot of the bed. I can’t actually force myself to pull back the comforter and reveal myself to him fully though. He ends up doing that while I stare at a spot on the ceiling.

  The brush of his fingertips is feather light. “Does it hurt when I touch you like this?”

  “No. It’s actually kind of numb, from the scar tissue I guess.”

  I can’t look at him. I don’t want to see his face as he inspects me. When I feel his lips brush against that jagged line across my lower abdomen, I flinch. “You don’t have to do that, Jack.”

  He kisses up my belly, dragging the shirt with him. “You think I don’t want to?” he asks close to my mouth. Before I can answer him, he takes my hand and places it around his hard length. “I want you, Anna.”

  There’s certainly no denying the proof cradled in my palm, or the lust shining in his eyes.

  “But I don’t want to hurt you,” he says.

  “You won’t,” I promise, sliding one knee up his side. “It looks worse than it is.”

  “You look perfect to me.”

  I don’t know that I believe that, but I find myself believing it a bit more as he carefully strips the shirt from my body, and drags his lips down my torso, pausing over my breasts, skimming down the center of my belly. When his fingers hook beneath the elastic of my panties, I lift up so he can pull them down my thighs.

  The feel of his mouth on my center has me arching up off the bed. I wince as my stitches make contact with the pillow beneath my head. God, I’m a mess, and before long I’m an even bigger mess, whimpering, moaning, thrashing around the bed. My fingers tangle in his hair, pulling him closer until the moment I fall apart, then I’m suddenly pulling him away. The continued stimulation is too much. My legs are shaking, and I can’t seem to draw in enough breath.

  Jack kisses back up my belly, between my breasts, along the side of my neck. “Are you sure you’re okay with this?”

  I don’t bother answering him with words. I grab his face and kiss him hard, tasting myself on his lips.

  Thanks to the injury at the back of my head, him on top seems problematic. He voices a worry about me on top in a panting voice, thanks to the fact that I’m supposed to be taking it easy, while I taste his jaw, and the side of his neck. I almost want to laugh at his concern, but I don’t do anything but bite my lip as I nudge the waistband of his pants over his hips.

  We end up compromising in in a sidelying fashion, belly to belly, with my one leg curled up and over his waist. His blue-grey eyes are half lidded as he eases himself into me. It’s a unique position, for me at least, and it works far better than I would’ve imagined. The slanted angle allows him to nudge something deep inside that makes me shiver.

  He kisses me slow, moves against me slow. I can tell he’s being careful with me, or maybe he just wants to make this last. In either case I’m not complaining. This is so different than the last time we were together, which was a bit hazy with alcohol, rushed and frantic.

  His palm smoothes up my leg, the bad one. I’m staring at his face the whole time, and if he’s revulsed or disgusted in any way, he doesn’t show it. I know Jack well enough by this point to understand he can’t hide much. All I see stamped on his hard features is lust, adoration. Love?

  Maybe that last one is wishful thinking, because I’ve fallen so deep for him I can’t see up or down anymore. This is too fast. I can’t really be in love with him this soon. I press my lips against his to keep from saying something foolish.

  His hand splays over the curve of my hip, and he pulls me against him another fraction of an inch. Our bodies are aligned perfectly, and my legs start to shake again. “Oh, my god.”

  “Are you gonna come again, A
nna?”

  I nod slightly, biting my lip to keep quiet as a second release builds in tight intensity. Jack repeats that same maneuver again, a little less gently now. I love the low groan he makes, the way his nostrils flair slightly as he breathes heavier. I can tell he’s holding back for me. He’s giving me a chance to get there that second time, and it doesn’t take long before I’m cursing and shuddering in his arms. A breath later, he swells inside me. “God, honey.”

  He’s never called me anything except Anna, but I find I love the sound of that endearment in his gruff voice. I love the way we fit together just right. I love him, even if it’s too soon to say it outloud yet.

  Chapter 18

  Jack

  We lay tangled up together for a long time. Sated. Content. My fingers trace down the curve of her spine, the swell of her ass, light over those raised scars. To say they aren’t noticeable would be a lie, but they’re far from disfiguring. She’s still gorgeous, and I still can’t keep my hands off her, but I guess this is why she’s been so bashful all those weeks. “I wish you had told me sooner,” I say gently. “What happened?”

  “Some asshole drove up an ally that cars aren’t even supposed to go down.”

  “Were they drunk or something?”

  “Probably.” She lets out a long sigh. “I don’t know. I guess I’ll never know now. They didn’t stick around long enough for the police to find out.”

  “There weren’t cameras or a witness?”

  She shrugs. “I guess not.”

  “How can you be so calm about this?” My voice tremors slightly with rage.

  Anna laughs. “After I came to in the hospital all kinds of screwed up, I wasn’t calm at all, but that was over a year and a half ago. They tried to find out who did it, but eventually I had to let it go. I just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

  “But you’re okay now?”

  “I’ll never be able to dance as well as I did before, but all things considered, I got off pretty lucky. There for a while I thought I might be hobbling around with a walker for the rest of my life.”

  “Jesus.”

  “It doesn’t bother you?”

  “It bothers me that you had to go through that, and it pisses me off that the person responsible never got brought to justice, but no. It doesn’t bother me, Anna.” I sit up, and lean over to smack a kiss on the puckered skin at her hip, drawing a nervous giggle out of her.

  “It really doesn’t?” she asks.

  “If you give me a little time to recuperate, I’d be happy to prove it to you again.”

  Anna laughs, and it’s her real laugh this time. “Won’t Sarah be home soon?”

  “Jamie’s taking her out for a bit, but I better go easy on you since you’re still recuperating too, huh?” I kiss her again, and marvel at how perfect she feels in my arms.

  Anna slaps a hand to her forehead lightly. “God, I have to call and cancel my credit card, and buy a new phone, get a new ID, and shit… what a huge hassle.”

  I hate that she even had to deal with anything else after the ordeal she’s already been through. I let her go reluctantly, and we both get dressed again. My eyes are on her like a hawk, because I love looking at her, and because I can’t help but look for any little signs that she’s taking a turn for the worse.

  Downstairs she curls up on the couch with the cats on her lap, and the phone in her hand. While she waits for an inordinate amount of time on hold with the bank, I make us lunch. She also calls Laura to let her know she’ll need to pick up her classes the next day if possible. I’m just finishing up as she meanders into the kitchen to join me. “They used my card at two different gas stations, and a liquor store, but they’ll refund that I guess. I can’t believe someone did all this for gas, booze, and a necklace that probably didn’t cost fifty dollars.” She absently stroked near her clavicle. “Gregory gave that to me years ago.”

  “You two have been friends for a long time?” I ask, but what I really want to inquire about is which gas stations, which liquor store. I want to find the person who did this to her so bad it’s killing me. But it’s not my case, and right now she needs me here with her.

  “Since I was twenty, so for almost ten years. Wow. Yeah, he kind of took me under his wing when I came to the ballet company. I was so timid, and he’s really… not timid.” She laughs. “He helped me after my accident too.”

  “He sounds like a good friend.”

  “Mmhmm. We’ve always kind of stuck together. He really wants to meet you when he comes to visit. I’ve already told him so much about you.” Her laugh this time is quiet, embarrassed, and her face darkens with a blush.

  “I’d like to meet him too. Hopefully I live up to the hype.”

  Anna really is timid, I realize. It’s almost hard to imagine her on stage performing in front of a crowd. On the other hand, she seems utterly at ease and confident leading Sarah’s ballet class, and interacting with the other parents. With a sinking feeling, I realize the only one she’s timid around is me.

  “Do I make you nervous?” I ask directly.

  She shakes her head quickly, then starts to nod slowly. “A little.”

  “Why?”

  Anna shrugs, and nibbles on her lower lip. God, it’s so sexy when she does that. “Because I like you, and… I’m clueless about all this. I’ve only ever been in a few other relationships, and they were kind of shallow. Not the guys. They weren’t shallow. Well, some of them were. I just mean… I guess you could say ballet was my most serious boyfriend.”

  I kiss her, and suck the fullness of her bottom lip between my teeth gently. When I pull back, her gaze is heated and slightly dazed. “If there’s one of us standing here that should be nervous, it’s me. I haven’t done this for years, so knock it off.”

  “I’m trying.”

  “Well, try harder,” I say in a light tone.

  I repeat that phrase a short while later over lunch, when she finishes after a handful of dainty bites. “Are you doing that because I’m here?”

  Shaking her head, her face goes wine red. Anna is beautiful, but she’s skinny as hell. Not underweight exactly, but I don’t know how she can sustain herself eating like that.

  “You can’t do that in front of Sarah,” I say quietly. “If you wear your hair a certain way, hers has to be that way. Ever since you got that new purple bag to carry your dance stuff in, she’s been on my case to get her one just like it. Maybe she doesn’t know about us yet, but she already looks up to you.”

  She nods down towards her lap like a chastized child, and I feel like a huge ass. I feel like an even bigger one when she sniffles lightly, and I realize she’s crying.

  I stand up, cross around the table, and kneel down so I’m looking up at her. “Anna, I’m sorry, but I had to say it. Do you have a problem? Is it-”

  “It’s not like that. But I like to eat the same things, and do the same things. I have to keep to a schedule to get through it.”

  “Get through what?”

  “Life? I don’t know.” She laughs lightly, and wipes her eyes. “I’m trying to adjust, but it’s taking me a while. I spent so many years following this routine, and now… I know it’s not normal. I’ll try harder, Jack. You’re right. I don’t want Sarah to end up with all these weird quirks.”

  When I ask her to elaborate on her normal routine, it’s not as weird or quirky as I first thought. She has several small snacks throughout the day, and a larger dinner, because she doesn’t like to dance with much in her stomach. She likes to wake up, and go to sleep at the same time. She has normal ballet practice in the mornings she does, separate from the classes she teaches, and a specific time she sets aside to take care of business tasks for the studio.

  Maybe I should’ve guessed this after letting myself in her place to check on Princess last night. When I went to grab her clothes, I couldn’t help but notice everything color coded, perfectly folded. She’s just a little picky.

  “That doesn’t s
ound so abnormal, Anna.” I kiss her knuckles. “Actually, I’m kind of liking this. If you can get Sarah to eat some chicken that doesn’t come in a nugget form, and some honest to goodness vegetables tonight, I’ll owe you big time.”

  “You won’t owe me anything after all that you’re doing for me.”

  “You do things for me too.”

  “Like what?”

  I turn her hands over, uncurl her fingers, and press a kiss to either palm. “You make me feel things again. I guess I had a routine of my own, a way to get through it. Sarah was always my bright spot, but the rest was just going through the motions.”

  Staring up into her big, brown eyes, I’m feeling more than I bargained for. Maybe too much for this soon, and I’m also afraid for her. Are her pupils too big, too small. Are they evenly dilated? Is she acting like herself? She’s no longer crying, but the evidence of her upset glistens wetly on her cheeks.

  Did Claire cry ever? Only once that I know of, when we were young and she broke her arm in a skateboarding mishap. She could’ve killed herself. No one made kids wear helmets back then like they do now.

  I kiss the insides of Anna’s wrists, and the steady thump of her pulse greets my lips.

  “I’m sorry, Anna.” I stand up and wipe off her face. She stands up too. “I can be a little direct sometimes.”

  “I like it. I’d rather know what you’re thinking than try to guess.”

  “If you’re really finished, then I think we should go take a shower. That’s what I think.”

  “Together?”

  “I’m afraid you might get dizzy and fall.”

  Anna stares pointedly towards the front door.

  “They won’t be back for hours.”

  It doesn’t take much more coaxing before I have her upstairs, stripped down, and standing under the hot spray with me.

  Maybe she is a little on the thin side, but she’s far from scrawny. Anna is lithe, but strong. Her skin is silk beneath my fingertips, and beneath that silk is long, lean muscle.