by Tonya Plank
“Jett?” We’d finished going through several times, with no flubs, no tremor. We were going to be awesome together at Blackpool. I knew it. But did he have time to train with his job and all? I took a big breath.
He looked at me, eyebrows raised, his smile slowly growing cocky. Did he know what I was going to ask?
“What?” I said.
“What do you mean what?” He grinned. “You called out my name.”
Another breath. This was ridiculous. Out with it. “I received a letter from the Blackpool organizers asking me if I wanted to compete in showdance with a new partner.”
His grin grew dimpled and boyish, and charm oozed all over his face. I guess I had my answer. “Uh-huh?” he said, motioning for me to go on.
“Jett, do you want to compete with me?”
“You’re asking me to be your Blackpool partner?”
I closed my eyes. Was that what I was doing? Yes, yes, it was.
I opened them again.
“Arabelle, I would be honored to be the partner of the reigning queen of Blackpool.”
Okay, that was a bit much. I rolled my eyes. “That would be Natalia, actually.”
“No, no, it really isn’t. We both know she only won last year because there was no you. You let her win.”
I giggled self-consciously. “Jett, it’s hard work to train. Do you have time with your schedule?”
“You asking me if I can work hard?” He cocked one eyebrow up. So sexy. He peered deep into my eyes, nearly penetrating my soul. For a moment I thought he might kiss me, on the lips. That, I wasn’t ready for. Or maybe I was? Yes, I think I was.
“Of course, I know you can.” I laughed, deflecting his desires—my desires—for the moment anyway.
Jett looked at the clock. “Whoa.” He chuckled.
My eyes followed his. Again, it was pretty late.
“At least you don’t have any classes till tomorrow afternoon, right? You can sleep in,” he said as we gathered our things and walked toward the door.
I nodded. “Fortunately. You can too, right? You don’t have private lessons till evening.”
He shook his head. “Performance tomorrow is a matinee. So the only time to warm up and rehearse is before lunch.”
“Oh no, but you’re going to be way too tired.”
He shook his head again. “I’ll be fine. I’m a trooper. I can take it. I’m just so glad we got so much done.”
Suddenly I was angry at myself. He needed his sleep far more than I did. This was his job, and it was a dangerous one.
“Jett, I’m sorry. We’ve spent a lot of time on choreographing for the team. And you have a serious job…”
He reached for my hand. “What do you mean? This is a job too.”
“I know but not your main job. This is just…a student team comp.” Suddenly I felt like what we were striving for was very small.
But Jett shook his head. “There’s nothing ‘just’ about it. We have to win for Alessia. And it’s not like Blackpool is unimportant in the least. If we use a similar routine, then we worked on that as well.”
True. But he wasn’t being paid to compete at Blackpool. I mean, there would hopefully be championship money eventually, but I suddenly felt guilty about taking him away from his job.
“We’re going to do this, Belle. We’re going to beat the assholes who glorified in your misery. We’re going to win for Alessia, and we’re going to win for us.”
He drove me home again, and then walked me to my doorway. When we got there I suddenly felt sick. But not in the way I’d often felt sick since Willem passed. My nerves went all tingly—but not in a bad way. I felt sick with excitement. Yes, we would win for Alessia. I hadn’t yet completely processed that I was competing again at Blackpool. And with this man.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
I nodded. Air caught in my throat and I momentarily couldn’t speak. I opened my door wide and nodded toward it. “You…you want to come in?” I managed.
He took a breath. “Sure,” he said, eyebrows raised, a slight, bemused smile beginning to cross his lips.
He walked in and looked around. I read his eyes. He wasn’t sure what to do, why he was here. I wasn’t sure why he was here either.
“Um, something to drink?” I asked.
“Ah, sure. What do you have?”
I searched the fridge. Not much. Embarrassingly, I hadn’t entertained at all in the past two years. I had a half bottle of cheap Chardonnay, a pitcher of iced tea, about a quarter of a carton of almond milk, and of course, water. I wished I had some beer on hand. Or fancy alcohol. I remembered he’d had a fancy drink in hand at the after-performance party in Vegas, and that he’d ordered the most expensive champagne at the restaurant. Then I became embarrassed, remembering how used to luxury he was. My tiny studio had practically no furniture since I’d downsized. My place was pretty much the antithesis of luxury.
“I’m actually not very thirsty,” he said after I went through the choices. Maybe my embarrassment showed on my face all too clearly.
“Water?” I shrugged.
“Yeah, that’s good.”
I went to grab a glass then realized the hot pink cups with “Crazy Cat Lady” on them were not quite suitable. Since moving, I had mostly bought only things for myself to use. I reached in the back for a clear glass.
I sat next to him on the loveseat. No, I didn’t even have a real sofa. As I plopped down I realized it was pretty much covered in white cat hair. His wicked grin indicated he didn’t seem to mind. I took a breath, trying not to think about the liquid heat rising in my belly from that devilish smile. I tried not to think about our thighs touching. I tried to think about where Arabesque might be. She was likely hiding in the closet, like she usually did the few times we’d had company over.
And then it happened. The heat of his body just melted into me. And I let it.
He set his cup down on the stand next to the loveseat, and cupped my face with his hands. And I let him. I closed my eyes and felt myself moving my face toward his, lifting my chin, soaking up his caress. And then his lips were on mine, and my mouth was opening and his tongue met mine. I melted into that too, forgetting everything else. And then he was pulling me to him and I was wrapping my leg around his body, my knee rubbing the small of his back. He took his mouth off mine and trailed kisses across my cheek, my chin, down my neck, around my shoulder, breathing heavily at the back of my ear, a cool breeze on wet hot skin, making me shiver.
“Belle, beautiful, beautiful Belle,” he whispered.
I opened my eyes, looked into his twinkling, long-lashed brown eyes, half open—the very definition of dreamy bedroom eyes. And I was a goner from there. I tore off his jacket and lifted his t-shirt while he struggled to get his arms out of the jacket’s sleeves. He laughed as I basically stripped him naked.
“Hold on there, cowgirl.” He laughed.
But no. I couldn’t hold on. Once the shirt was off and I was faced with his muscled chest, his eight-pack abdomen, his gorgeously intricate abstract tattoo covering his mid-right side and his chiseled pecs, I felt my mouth literally watering. It had been way too long. I ran my hands up and down his front side, his skin so silky smooth. He reached out to me, but before he could touch me, I was at his pants, unbuttoning him. I couldn’t help myself. I really couldn’t. I had to have all of him.
“Okay then,” he said as he lifted himself off the couch to let me push the jeans all the way down. All. The. Way. Oh wow. He was spectacular; the perfect specimen. Seriously. I couldn’t help but stare as he kicked his boots off along with the pants, now down at his ankles. He was enormous. And he was only half erect. I swallowed. I’d never had anyone that big. Well, I’d only ever had one other man, and well… But Willem didn’t take over my thoughts now. The thought of Willem didn’t even faze me. This was a completely new experience with a new man. A man I’d grown so close to despite my wholehearted attempts not to. I wasn’t hurting Willem. I wasn’t hurting his memor
y. I would always have him, and he would always have me. This was something—someone—completely different.
“Um, your turn?” Jett said, holding a hand out to me. I wondered if he could read my thoughts. My thoughts at that point were, I want you, I want you, I want you. I rose and backed up toward the curtained bed in the corner of the room. He followed me, growing more erect by the second, leading me to back up more and more quickly. I walked backward through the pink silky curtain, all the way to the bed, which I nearly tripped over because I was going so fast. That was okay. This was right where I wanted to be. I fell backward, onto the bed.
Jett climbed on top of me, wrapping his arms around me, kissing me deeply—very deeply. I wrapped my legs around his waist, feeling his growing erection poke at my panties. My panties. Why was I still dressed?
He lifted himself off a couple inches and began trailing kisses down my neck, down my shoulder. He pulled the spaghetti strap of my dress down, lower and lower, kissing every new millimeter of exposed skin. I arched back and closed my eyes, taking in all the sensations. I was small enough not to have to wear a bra all the time and when I’d changed out of my dance clothes and put on the sundress, I didn’t bother putting one on. When the dress went down low enough, it was only a second that I felt my nipple exposed to air before he placed his lips around it, licking and tonguing and sucking gently. Then the other strap slipped down, and soon I felt the dress being pulled down over my waist. He was really taking his time to undress me, despite the fact his erection was growing by the nanosecond. I wanted him in me. I pushed my dress down all the way, along with my underwear, then kicked both off. He moved his head down more, trailing kisses down farther and farther. I rolled my fingers in his gloriously thick, soft hair and arched my back more, still closing my eyes as I felt his tongue on my pubic bone, beginning to tickle the front of my clit.
“Jett, I want all of you,” I said, trying to pull his body up. I felt the dress and underwear fall off my toes to the floor.
“Mmmmmm,” he moaned as I felt his body move back over me. “Delicious. And so, so, so beautiful.” I wrapped my legs around his back. He continued to trail kisses, even as I pulled him closer.
“Belle?” he whispered.
“Mmmm hmmm?”
“Do you…you know, have anything?”
I opened my eyes and looked at him. He shrugged, his loopy smile returning.
Oh crap. Condoms! No, of course I didn’t. I hadn’t even thought about having such a thing since I wasn’t sexually active.
I shook my head. “Do you?”
His loopy smile intensified. He nodded. “Just have to get them.”
I thought about what that meant. He was carrying condoms around with him.
“Sorry, old, old, old habit,” he whispered, his thoughts where mine were.
The emphasis on “old” made me giggle. “Go ahead,” I said.
He was quick about it, returning to me in with lightning speed. He began the trail of kisses again. I pulled him over me, and soon he was inside of me. He was so gentle, which I appreciated. But I knew why. And I wanted him to be normal—I could take it. I grabbed his ass and pushed him further inside me, stretching my legs all the way into a split. I pulled his face to mine, found his lips and opened my mouth wide. He got the hint and as his tongue met mine, he thrust harder, moving more aggressively.
“Mm-hmmm,” I moaned, lifting my leg up toward the ceiling now as I felt his heart beating faster and faster. Or was that my own? I remembered this—feeling two hearts beating so fast, I couldn’t tell where his ended and mine began. Perhaps they were the same in that moment. I pulled more on his ass cheeks and he pumped harder and harder, and I arched back farther and farther, until the explosion erupted through my body, and we both collapsed, drenched with sweat and exhausted.
He rolled off me but remained on his side, next to me. He put one arm around me and the other on my stomach, while he kissed my wet forehead.
He opened his mouth and I felt he was going to say something but he stopped. I knew what he was going to do. He was going to ask if I was okay. He’d decided against it, wisely. Because it couldn’t have been more obvious that I so was.
I was also tired, though. It had been a long day and we’d worked hard. I found myself dozing off to sleep, but in his arms. Before I realized what I was doing I turned my back to him so we could spoon. This is how Willem and I always ended up. But before I could turn back around—Jett must have instinctively known what I wanted—he wrapped his body around me from behind, both arms caressing my belly, his lips on my neck, right behind my ear. I felt his breath get deeper and deeper as if he was falling asleep. Willem didn’t spoon quite as close. He didn’t wrap his arms around my stomach, but would fall asleep with his hand on my ass, his head above mine.
I laughed to myself at the memory and my initial surprise that Jett was different. Of course he was different.
“Mmm, so perfect,” Jett whispered, his voice so light it sounded almost like he hadn’t meant for me to hear.
“What is?” I asked.
“Hmmm?” He sounded half asleep.
“Perfect, you said. Yes, for me too,” I whispered.
“Oh, I meant this position,” he clarified, waking a bit. “Ending in this embrace. I’ve never been a real cuddler before, but it’s so natural.” He kissed me on the ear lobe and rested his head over my shoulder, his breaths getting longer and longer, until I could feel his muscles relax and him fall asleep. He remained in the same position after he fell asleep. It was natural. I stayed awake a while longer than he did. My mind was alert, even though my body was tired. It was like I was trying to process something that didn’t need processing. Jett was amazing, incredible, wonderful, perfect. I still missed Willem, for sure. I always would. But for the first time, I realized that feeling didn’t have to rule every aspect of my life. Its existence was its own special part of me, and always would be. And now I had another part of me that had been awakened.
Chapter 23
Jett
I pretended to fall asleep. But honestly, I couldn’t. I’d been waiting for this for so long. And it was kind of unbelievable that it had actually happened, and so fast. Maybe it needed to be so that we’d go through with it—that she’d go through with it, I mean. I wasn’t sure what she was thinking. I tried to go slowly. I didn’t want to of course; I wanted to rip off her clothes and take her. I made myself go slowly because I knew it would be hard for her. But then she didn’t seem to want it that way. Her head was in the exact same place as mine.
I had to keep spooning her, our bodies fitting perfectly together, one in the other. I had to keep her that close to reassure myself that it had really happened, and that it was okay with her. I rested my chin on her shoulder and wrapped my hands more tightly around her tiny, soft, sweet waist, and she cooed.
I did finally get to sleep. I knew this when her white longhaired cat jumped on the bed and scared the living crap out of me. At first I didn’t know where I was. But, believe it or not, I was still wrapped around Arabelle. I’d never ever been the spooning type before. Ever. But with her, as I told her, it felt natural.
“Mmmm,” Arabelle moaned. I felt her eyes flutter open, and her precious lungs fill with air. I felt her frown and then immediately turn her head toward me, realizing I was still there, remembering the night before. Or rather, the early morning before.
“Oh, oh wow. Arabesque usually wakes me and, I guess nothing’s changed about that,” she mumbled, followed by a giggle. But she didn’t move. And neither did I. Remaining in our spooning position, I kissed the back of her lovely head. She still smelled of strawberry shampoo.
We stayed like that for a while, until Arabelle finally moved my hand. “Hey, what time did you say you had to be at the theater?” she whispered.
Mmm, back to reality. “Eleven,” I murmured.
“Jett, you need to get going soon.”
I knew as much. The sun was coming in strongly through the white
curtained window, so I knew it was mid-morning. A sandpapery lick to the back of my neck made me remember I had to get home to let Ranger out. I hadn’t been a bad dog dad until these last couple of nights that I’d spent out late working with Arabelle. This one was the worst, since I hadn’t even come home. Poor Ranger. At least he had the grassy disposable indoor dog potty.
Before un-spooning ourselves, I gave her one last, long kiss on the back of her head, then trailed a few kisses to her neck and then cheek for good measure. I didn’t really want my mouth to meet hers with my morning breath, although I probably had only been asleep for a couple hours.
“I think your kitty would like some food.” I laughed, as I managed to pry myself away from her beautiful body.
“Mmm, I know. Sorry, Bess,” she moaned, stretching, just like a sleek, slinky little cat herself.
I washed my face in the bathroom and used a little of her toothpaste to brush my teeth, enough so that I could kiss her on the way out. I couldn’t leave without doing that.
“Sorry we have to rush. I wish I could feed you breakfast.” She wrapped her arms around my back, her gorgeous blue eyes peering up into mine.
“Me too. But we will have tonight.” I held her more closely, kissing her deeply. I thought briefly of calling in late to practice. We had the routine down pat, after all. But something in me told me I couldn’t be any more irresponsible than I already had been. I really needed to get home to Ranger anyway.
* * *
It was a good thing I showed up to practice, because Belinda was sick. Pam would be her stand-in. I hadn’t worked with Pam before. She was smaller than Belinda, and much shorter than me. Our bodies didn’t work together as perfectly as Belinda and me. Things didn’t feel as right. When I caught her in mid-air, I nearly missed because her arms were shorter than I was used to. It didn’t seem like she noticed, because she didn’t show it. I didn’t either. I never showed weakness. But it was there, and I knew it.
I was tired. I only got a few hours of sleep and as the practice wore on, it became more noticeable. My head was also wound up in Arabelle, in her soft touch, her beautiful eyes. I wondered how she was feeling. I was the first person she’d slept with since Willem—that much I knew since she looked at me like she’d never heard of a condom before. There had been no tremor whatsoever all last night. Hopefully, now that she was back to showdance and was dancing in my safe arms, that would be a thing of the past.
