by Laina Kenney
He had experienced sexual attraction but he had never experienced love like this and it made him into a madman. He knew the words wouldn’t be perfect, but he needed to get these overpowering feelings out in the open between them.
“Anja, please let me get this out. It’s not easy to find the words I need to say to you so that you’ll understand. There are so many things I’m sorry for. I need to apologize to you and I need you to hear me so we can both move on.”
She huffed, and turned her back to him, but she didn’t leave. He was so damned desperate he would take that as encouragement.
“I’m sorry that I hurt you and I’m sorry that I put marks on your beautiful skin.” Her skirt twitched as she shifted from foot to foot and he talked faster. “I’m sorry that I made the decision for you and didn’t let you make your own choice about being with me. I don’t want you to get the idea that you won’t ever get to decide for yourself anymore once you agree to a submissive role.
She whipped around to glare at him.
He talked faster. “I’m sorry that I—”
“Didn’t trust me enough to let me make up my mind? That you didn’t give me the courtesy of treating me like a capable adult, even after explaining all your hundred rules about how the submissive truly makes the choices in the relationship? You made me trust you and then you walked out. All your words meant nothing then.”
Zenn fell silent. Her eyes were fierce and sparkling with her righteous fury. She was truly pissed at him, but she was standing her ground and not running. She was willing to fight, so she hadn’t given up on him yet. His disobedient cock lengthened but he tried to ignore it.
“I have been alone long enough. I want a man in my life and you could be that man.” His heart jumped in answer, but she kept on talking. “I have heard from many people about your marital problems. I know how your wife shouted your secrets to any reporter who would listen. I know how she claimed you wanted to hurt her because of your Dominant tendencies.”
Shock prevented him from speaking.
She sighed impatiently. “Everyone has some issues by the time they get into their thirties, Zenn. I understand that life is like that. You must deal with mine as well if you want us to have any kind of relationship. But if you cannot, if you insist on wallowing in old pain and behaving like a spoiled boy, then what we could have will never be. There is the door.”
She pointed one slender finger over his shoulder, and her hand was rock steady like the look in her eye. Magnificent woman, he thought, so passionate in defense of what she believed, what she wanted her life to be. He felt a flash of admiration for her indomitable spirit. He wanted to spend every day of his life with her, but he had screwed up and he wasn’t out of the woods yet. He still had a lot to make up for.
“Give me hell, then. I’ll take it for the next fifty years with an option to renew. I’m not leaving again. I’m not leaving,” he said more quietly, when her pointing finger quivered.
“But you have to get rid of that Russian dancer.” He tried to keep his tone even, but he didn’t quite manage it.
“There is no need for you to be jealous of Alyo.”
“He was your lover, and he wants to be again.” Zenn could see that plainly. And not just the Russian, but half the men in town were mad for Anja. It was no mystery as to why, but still, it rubbed Zenn raw to consider that he might have to stand in the shadows and watch Anja with another man. It would gut him.
“You say there’s no need to be jealous. I’ve never felt jealous before but with you everything is different. I’m in love with you. I’m jealous of everyone and everything where you’re concerned. It makes me feel crazy to admit that I’m jealous of your silk sheets and your workout tights and anything that keeps the sight of you from me. I’m jealous of every man you smile at when you don’t even realize that they’ll fantasize about that soft smile for the next six months. Of course I’ll be jealous of your former lover. I want to take his place.”
Zenn didn’t know why he had to explain that to an otherwise intelligent woman, but she had no true idea of how men looked at her. He would bet the store on that. The damned woman was driving him wild and she wasn’t half trying.
Anja put her hands on her hips.
“You call him my lover. He did not give me what I needed. He would not try anything new, and many times advised me to channel my excess passion into my dancing as he is dedicated to his dancing.”
Zenn shook his head and whistled low. He couldn’t comprehend it. “Most of my friends are athletes dedicated to their sport, but I can’t think of a single American guy who would say that to a woman. He might be pretty, but he’s an idiot.”
Anja bristled. “Alyo Dvenyev is a brilliant man.”
Zenn brought her hand to his lips.
“He had you, sugar, and he didn’t do whatever was necessary to keep you. That’s my definition of an idiot.”
“Then you are an idiot also!”
Zenn laughed softly and curled his hand around Anja’s slender waist to pull her in. He felt a betraying shiver run the length of her body.
“Sugar, I just got smart. It’s going to be a long damned time before you get rid of me. I’ll find a way to let go of my old memories and stop letting them run my life for me. We can start fresh. If you want to tell me all your old unfulfilled fantasies we’ll try them out one by one until we’re at the point of exhaustion and then we’ll start again the next day.”
Zenn could feel the fine tension in Anja’s body. He leaned closer until his lips were touching the sensitive rim of her ear.
“And when we run out, we’ll add a few more. The passion between us will burn for a lifetime. And if saying the words embarrasses you, I’ll lie back and let you communicate with your body. It’s a guarantee, you can show me any damned thing you want in the bedroom and I’ll love it. Or I’ll do the talking. I’ve seen how much you like it when I whisper dirty beautiful words in your ear while I’m touching you.”
Anja’s head dropped to rest on his chest as if she couldn’t support its weight any longer and she sighed. It seemed he had finally found the right approach to win back his leading lady.
“You are tempting me,” she said and her voice was low and uneven. “It is so unfair what you can do to me. I never imagined it could be this way.”
Zenn pressed his lips to her ear. “I love you. I’m going to try my hardest to make you love me back, sugar. It’s my new mission in life.”
Zenn pulled her closer, but she stiffened her arms to resist him.
“No matter what, I have to finish the rehearsal,” she said. “I cannot give you the answer you want right now.”
Surprised, he released her, but she grabbed his hand.
“I am not saying no to you. I am saying we will talk and explore this relationship more, much more, but after I am finished with my obligations. Please understand that I cannot be a poor example to all my students and leave in the middle of an important rehearsal.”
Zenn understood then that she wanted to work it out between them, and the terrible pressure inside his chest loosened. He squeezed her fingers gently. He could wait.
“Yeah, I understand. You’ve started something wonderful with this fundraiser and you need to see it through. And the kids look up to you. I get it.”
Then he thought of their dance. He grimaced and fought back his anger at himself. She reached up and rubbed at his forehead with one slender finger.
“I’ll fucking hate it when you’re up dancing our waltz with that Russian pin-up boy. But I won’t punch him. Do what you need to do for Genessa and I’ll be watching from the audience.”
He knew his voice was harsh, but he was trying to be reasonable and it was just about killing him. The image of Anja draped over the Russian’s arm, eyes sparkling up at him instead of Zenn kept playing over and over in his mind. It was no more than he deserved, but it felt like a knife twisting in his gut.
“You are upset about that?”
“Fuck. O
f course I’m not happy about you dancing our waltz with some other guy. It just feels wrong to me.”
Anja was silent but her anguished eyes and perfect stillness showed her anxiety.
He gathered her close again and she burrowed into his arms. He rubbed her back and tried to soothe some of the residual tension he had caused.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t put that on you, sugar girl. I know why you called him to come here. I know exactly why you had no other choice. You tried to solve an impossible situation the best way you could when I backed out. It put you in a bad position and you had to fix it. I hate it, hate that I caused it, but I do see why you did it.”
She stretched up and brushed her soft lips over his. Zenn held himself still and let her have his mouth. She explored him delicately, probing with the tip of her tongue. The heated taste of her sweetness flashed through his blood and stopped his thoughts of the Russian or anyone but the lithe beauty in his arms. The exploration of her timid tongue burned him like a bright flame. Having her back in his arms was more than he deserved, but he would never let her go again. He was playing for keeps.
She pulled back far too soon, and he had to force his hands to let go when his every instinct was to hold her tighter. His only consolation was the rush of her breath and the pink of her cheeks.
“I do not kiss anyone else like that,” she said. The soft invitation in her voice filled him with the blunt urgency of desire. “There is no other man in the world like you. I have never felt before the things that you make me feel. I feel so much with you that no words are big enough. There is no need for the idea of jealousy to enter your mind.”
Zenn had to smile in spite of the heavy beat of his blood.
“Keep it that way. I want you and your sweet lips all to myself.”
She flushed and said nothing, but her sparkling eyes told him of her pleasure. He took her hand and brought it to his heart so she could feel the intense pounding her kiss had inspired.
She leaned into him and pressed her cheek over his heart. The gesture gave him hope and almost brought a tear to his eye. They stood that way for a long quiet moment before she stepped back.
She tugged his hand and he followed her. They twisted and turned through the maze of narrow corridors until they emerged stage left.
Their music was playing and the Russian was leading Genessa Smith in their waltz. Zenn was surprised at how good the girl was. She followed the male dancer like a dream, her long, light skirt swirling around with their movements and clinging to his trouser legs in a sensuous tease.
“I have an idea,” Anja said.
She turned to him with a questioning look. For once, he understood her completely.
He bowed from the waist and opened his arms in position. Her brilliant smile dazzled him. She stepped in and he whirled her onstage and into the gently throbbing rhythm of their waltz.
Chapter 12
Before the performance, Anja watched Zenn limber up, his muscles defined even in the tux. He was strong and flexible. His body drew her like a lodestone and inspired feelings she had difficulty admitting aloud even to him.
They had gone home together to her house last night after rehearsal and killed a bottle of wine together. They had spent half the night talking before she had fallen asleep in his arms in the big recliner. They hadn’t consummated their new understanding yet, but it somehow felt right to wake up with him and make breakfast together. She could get used to that.
A group of young girls hurried past in their pale yellow tutus shepherded by a frazzled Ellen. They were so close to performance time, but some of the groups were still dressing. The magnitude of her risk in putting together such a complex program in such a short time was terrifying. And with Alyo on the program, the critics would come as well. There was no getting around it and the knowledge added another knot of tension for her to work through.
Without even realizing it, she looked around for Zenn. She had changed the program again last night and both Zenn and Alyo would be dancing the waltz with Anja and Genessa as partners. After a quick trio number featuring Genessa’s younger sister, Alyo and Genessa’s spectacular swan duet would follow as the natural conclusion to the program. It was a risk to make big changes at the dress rehearsal, but even so, Anja had a good feeling about it.
Even amid the confusion and turmoil before cue, she could almost feel Zenn’s presence like a glowing red dot on her personal map. His balanced muscular coordination and perfect concentration in the middle of the organized chaos of the backstage area was like a balm for her eyes after a day filled with forgotten accessories, costume touch-ups, and last-minute anxieties in some of the child performers.
She relaxed her shoulders and breathed slow and deep. She concentrated on her large muscle groups one by one and twitched then released them.
It was a useful exercise to get rid of tension, but after a moment she accepted that she would carry a little tension out onstage with her tonight. It wasn’t for their waltz later. Dancing never inspired this sense of nervousness in Anja. But she had to welcome the audience and public speaking was a trial on her best day. Still, if she kept it short, she would be able to do it.
She peeked out through the heavy red curtains. The old theater was full, or close to it. Half the town had turned out to help out one of their own, and she could only be grateful for their wholehearted support of her student.
She took another slow breath and gave the signal. The house lights dimmed. She waited another moment for the stragglers to be seated then walked out to the podium at a slow march tempo.
“Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for coming out tonight to join us. Your generous support in filling up this old theater is greatly appreciated by all our young dancers.”
There was a smattering of applause that swelled into a roar. Anja knew that many in the audience would be family members on a night like this, and as she briefly introduced the dance groups who would be performing, she began to relax. Everyone in the audience wanted the same thing she wanted for the young performers. Everyone wanted them to do well and be proud of their achievements.
She stood in front of the crowd as a woman from another country who couldn’t quite shake her foreign accent, but the small town she chose to live in had embraced her and her mission to share her love of dance with another generation. Gratitude rose in her heart until it nearly overwhelmed her and when she left the stage to the sound of applause for the first group her throat was tight and she had to wipe a tear from her eye.
The first half went well, and ended to a standing ovation for Genessa’s first solo number.
After a short intermission, where she handed out water bottles, straightened crooked tiaras, treated blisters, and zipped a trio of squirming ten-year-olds into their matching dresses, Anja was looking forward to the finale.
In her stomach were the tiny butterflies that signaled her performance readiness. She always told her students that without that rush of energy, no one would ever deliver a truly stunning performance. Of all her girls, Genessa was one of the few who understood what it was to live for that feeling.
Anja had lived for that feeling for so long, never realizing that she could have that brilliance in her real life until Zenn. He had electrified her life like a lightning strike. Zenn changed everything for her, and there was no going back.
On cue, Zenn appeared at her side. The tuxedo did nothing to conceal the strength and toughness that had characterized his football career. If anything, the severe formal clothing only emphasized his size and power. He took her hand and his wicked grin made her stomach execute a slow roll. He was big and gorgeous and hers. She was going to enjoy every moment of their dance.
Her senses swelled to take in every ounce of stimulation available. The sound of the crowd and the whisper of her satin-gloved hand on the shoulder of Zenn’s tux teased her ears while her body balanced in energetic stillness inside the thin layers of silk and taffeta.
The curtain lifted, the music began and Zen
n kissed her hand and whirled her into the steps of their waltz. Alyo and Genessa entered from the opposite side of the stage and did the same waltz steps in a close mirror image but in nineteenth century garb. With the stage divided by the colored lighting and the background sets reflecting the two different time periods, the simple piece offered a timeless story of elegance and romance.
Anja didn’t know if the audience picked up on the growing warmth, the sexual undercurrent that raged whenever she danced in Zenn’s arms, but they seemed to love the performance.
Zenn swept her offstage to the thunder of applause at the end, and the glittering heat that smoldered in his eyes told her she would be lucky to see the final number.
He bent his dark head and took her lips in a slow potent kiss. His familiar taste rushed through her blood like a shot of vodka on a cold night. The clapping and stomping of the crowd faded into nothing. Her senses narrowed until his provocative mouth was her whole reality. When he pulled back from her, her mind was blissfully free.
“Back to the dressing room,” he said.
Reality returned with a snap.
“But we will miss our curtain call,” Anja protested. “The swan duet is only nine and a half minutes.”
Zenn looked at his watch and Anja felt a sense of approaching panic. He was a slow lover. Nine minutes would never be enough time.
He leaned closer and his voice was a hushed murmur that sent a tremor through her body.
“I’m going to be inside you in five minutes. If you want the whole town to watch it happen at center stage, that’s fine by me. Or we could go to your dressing room. The location is completely up to you. Five minutes.”
Anja’s mouth went slack and her nipples peaked. One look at his face and she knew he was serious. Her pussy clenched in excitement. She grabbed his hand and started walking. She didn’t want to look like she was in a hurry, though her mouth was dry and her heart was pounding out a wild beat.
