I looked around and tried to see the Lincoln Center through virgin eyes, making note of how tall the theatres were and how many massive lights were all over the place. The fountain added yet another layer of grandeur, the gushing sprays of water sparkling and twinkling. Each droplet resembled a diamond, gleaming and bright. Still, there were far more impressive sights in the world. This was nothing compared to any of thousands of pictures of resorts and natural wonders available for viewing at any time online or on TV. Maybe this was different because it was in real life.
Maybe I couldn’t really empathize because this had been part of my life for so long.
“It can be a little overwhelming,” I agreed, deciding to leave it at that. “Why don’t we go find our seats? There’s still time before the ballet starts. We’ll get settled in and talk. I want to know more about you than just your name.”
Theo nodded.
I let him have his hand back. I didn’t think it would go over very well for me to be dragging him around behind me. The instant I let go of him, I became aware of all the empty space between my fingers, the absence of the warmth of his skin. I wanted to touch him again, to reassure him, but I didn’t want to pressure him into doing anything he didn’t want to. Maybe later I could get his hand back and rid myself of this sharp sensation of emptiness once more.
“It’s this way,” I said, and nodded over to the building we were standing next to. “Stay close. I don’t want you to get separated from me.”
Theo nodded. His pulse ticked at his throat, a rapid beat in the smooth hollow of his neck.
I led the way to the theatre, working my way through the crowd. Theo stayed close behind me, so close I felt his breath on my neck, warm and tickly. I swallowed hard and bit my tongue. This was no time to be acting like a teenage boy on his first date, getting excited about breathing. What next? Would the sight of a bare shoulder send me into spasms of scandalous pleasure? Or -my goodness- an ankle! Orgasmic.
Theo was expecting me to be a sophisticated gentleman and I should act like one so we weren’t both uncomfortable.
I flashed our tickets at the front entrance and stepped inside. A well-dressed older woman in a pantsuit came over to us the moment we entered the lobby. “Hello! Good evening! Would you like help finding your seats?”
I glanced over at Theo. He had wandered away despite my earlier warning and was standing in the middle of the floor while men and women swept past him, his eyes glued to the grand fresco mural on the ceiling. “I think we’ll be fine on our own,” I answered. I didn’t want to rush this experience for him by shepherding him off to the actual theatre right away.
The usher smiled, following my gaze. “Then, please enjoy your night and thank you for coming.”
“Thank you.”
I left her as she turned her attention to an elderly couple and went after Theo, who had wandered further away to inspect a dangling golden chandelier, from which crystals dangled like snowflakes frozen in time. His hand twitched and rose a little, as if he wanted to touch one. Then, as if catching himself, he looked over his shoulder at the spot where I had been standing. Not seeing me there any longer, panic swept in over his face and he whirled around.
I stepped up to him just as he looked at me. He jumped and flinched, one hand flying to his heart. “You scared me!”
“Do you like chandeliers?” I asked, smiling a little.
Soft pink color rose to his cheeks. My chest tightened from how adorable he was, standing there in front of me like a schoolboy who’d been caught plotting. “I’ve never seen one with danglies like that before.”
I laughed. “They’re beautiful. But dangerous.”
“Dangerous?”
“If you’re tall. I once watched this very tall man walk under one of these chandeliers.” I lifted my hand, lightly tapped a dangling crystal. The surface was smooth and cool under my finger. “He must have been almost seven feet tall. He hit these and they tangled in his collar and in trying to free himself, he tore it the entire chandelier right out of the ceiling.”
“Oh, no!” he gasped. “That must have been so expensive.”
His response amused me and I laughed again. He really was so new to this, so naïve if he thought replacing a chandelier and fixing minor ceiling damage was a major expense. It made my heart brim to have the honor of being his first wealthy date.
His first sugar daddy.
“Come on,” I said. “And stay close this time.”
As I led the way, I felt a slight tug on the back of my suit jacket. Like a child, he’d grabbed onto me to make sure we wouldn’t be separated again.
I had been here often enough to have an easy time finding our seats. We were up in the loft area, overlooking the stadium seats down below and the curtained stage. Our seats were isolated from the others, meaning we had privacy to do as we pleased. We could also talk at a normal volume, being separated from other loft patrons and high above the swarming, chaotic crowd, their shouts and raised voices reduced to an echoing background drone.
Theo stared around the loft, his eyes very wide. “This is… I don’t even have a word for it. I can’t believe I’m up here. Wow.” He let go of my suit and wandered up to the edge, placing his hands on the railing and leaning over. “I could have been down there,” he whispered.
“You don’t like crowds?” I surmised. The tone of his voice didn’t seem quite right for what he’d said, tinged with longing rather than fear, but I had no other guesses to make. I walked up beside him and studied the theatre, watching people bump into each other like ants in a frenzy. It did look a little worrying.
Theo didn’t say anything. He didn’t even seem to have heard me.
I placed my hand on his to catch his attention. His skin was so soft. The urge to see if he was soft like this in other places swept over me and I started to move to get a better grip on him before I could get ahold of myself. One thing at a time.
“Let’s sit down,” I suggested.
Theo let himself be urged to his seat, his head twisting around to keep an eye on the stage. Once he was settled, I raised my hand and summoned a passing usher. “Champagne, please. Theo, have you had caviar before?”
“What’s that?” he asked.
I laughed. “And we’ll have some caviar, as well.”
I sat down next to Theo once the usher headed off. The sweet scent of cologne lingered in the air around him, a draft of fresh air in the miasma of champagne, savory hors d’ oeuvres, and perfume. I leaned closer to him, delighting in his presence, the newness he brought to this familiar experience. “What are you doing in New York, Theo?”
“What am I doing?”
“By that, I mean, no one is in this city just because they were born here. This is a place of purpose. What’s yours?”
Theo nibbled his lip and looked very sexy while doing it, unintentionally alluring. “I’m a dancer.”
“A dancer?”
Maybe I chose the right first date if that’s the case.
“I moved here because I wanted to study dance more than I could back home.” More lip-nibbling, the picture of innocence. “I’ve always been interested in dance, specifically ballet. The… the beauty of the body. It drew me in. How you can train yourself to do all these amazing things a regular person can’t dream of doing without dislocating something.”
Theo’s eyes glowed as he spoke. I glanced at the stage to see if the lights had come on, if the show was about to start. Nothing had changed except for him, his dark eyes which now seemed to hold a universe in their depths. It was his passion, I realized with a start, the passion he felt for the dance he was drawn to. His words resonated within me and I knew in that moment he had vocalized something which I had always felt but never thought to examine closer. I came to these ballets, these dances, these shows the most often because there was something in the flowing grace of the dancers, swirling and twirling around each other as one, in perfect choreographed synchronicity, that was downright magical. No ordi
nary human could perform those astonishing leaps and bends. No ordinary human had such fantastic keen senses to be aware of a dozen others all at once. Like bats, they seemed to echolocate, not needing to see to be aware of the others in harmony around them.
“Why are you in New York?”
Theo’s voice pulled me out of my reverie. I glanced at him and raised my eyebrows.
He blushed a little and ducked his head, but peered back up at me through the thin blond fringe of his hair. “You said this is a city of purpose. What’s yours?”
“My purpose is to be rich.”
Theo laughed, sounded startled and unsure if he should be laughing at all.
I smiled at him. “I’m not joking. I like being wealthy, having the ability to do as I please, whenever I please. I like being able to treat others around me the way they deserve to be treated. Everyone needs a little spoiling and if I can do that, then I will.”
“That’s really generous.” Theo looked at me from underneath lowered eyelashes. My heart ached for him, this gentle, princely young man who seemed so unaware of his own attractiveness.
You need a little spoiling, I thought. And I will love doing it. Every minute of it.
Our champagne arrived, chilling in a bottle of ice, along with a tray of caviar and accompaniments. The usher left a few glasses as well.
I picked up the champagne. “Would you like me to pour you a drink?”
“Yes.”
But, he didn’t say yes. He said “Ye-” and then a stricken look of utter, unbearable panic dropped down over his features. The change was so sudden my heart started pounding so fast I saw sickly, colorful stars in my vision. Turning my head around, feeling as if I was moving in slow motion, I looked behind me to see what he had seen that frightened him so terrible.
There was nothing there.
I turned back around. “Theo?”
His heart must have been racing even faster than mine, rapid little breaths coming from his mouth. “I… I actually don’t think I should. I’m sorry.”
I shook my head, moving the champagne bottle closer to myself. “That’s fine. You don’t have to drink.”
“I’m sorry.”
Baffled, but concerned, I said, “Don’t worry. I’ll get you some water.”
I summoned a bottle of mineral water and then turned back to look at Theo, the hairs on the back of my neck standing up. If I’d somehow upset him so badly he didn’t want to stay here…
He glanced at me out of the corner of his eye. His color was down and he seemed to be breathing easier. Whatever momentary frenzy had gripped him had passed. I gave him a little more time to recover, until he’d gotten his water and taken a few drinks.
“Do you want to try some caviar?” I suggested. My hope was to move us back into the territory of the rapport we’d been building earlier.
Theo glanced down at the tray and all of its little compartments. The caviar sat in the center, a gleaming oil-black mound of round globules, and from there radiated outward the small sections of accompaniments. Chopped boiled egg, yolk and whites separated, lemon wedges, diced onion, chives, and crackers.
Theo pressed his lips together, the corner of his mouth dragging down. He looked a little sick. “What is it, again?”
“Fish eggs.”
“That doesn’t sound good.”
“Have you ever had oysters?”
Theo stared at me. “No.”
“What about seafood in general?”
“Well, yeah.”
I smiled and picked up a cracker, using the little bone spoon to pile a small amount of caviar on top. “It has that same fishy taste, but more intense. It tastes like the ocean. You’ll see.” I picked up a lemon wedge.
Theo reached out and caught my wrist. “Don’t.”
“No lemon?”
“I don’t like fruit with my other food. It’s wrong.”
I laughed. “Wrong?”
Theo shuddered dramatically. “It just is. Sweet and savory don’t mix.”
“Lemons aren’t sweet,” I pointed out.
“They are if you take those miracle berry pills you can buy on Amazon.”
“I… don’t really have anything to say to that. Just eat the caviar.” I handed over the cracker.
Theo accepted it, gave the eggs a sniff, and then popped the cracker into his mouth. He chewed, his eyebrows furrowing. A small, displeased sound emerged through his nose, a huff of dissatisfaction. He swallowed, and reached down and picked up another cracker, ate it, and pushed the rest of the tray closer to me. “No more, thank you.”
I laughed. “It’s an acquired taste.”
“No, thank you,” he repeated.
I laughed again and helped myself.
Not long after that, the lights dimmed and the ballet began. Theo leaned forward in his chair, his attention rapt, his eyes following the dancers as they flew around the stage together, intermingling and parting and coming together again. I watched the ballet too, but most of my attention was focused on Theo. He breathed slow and deep, the way a hypnotized person might, utterly entranced by the sight before him.
I ate a little more caviar, thoroughly enjoying myself more than I had in a long while. The ballet, the bracing brine taste of the caviar, the crisp champagne, and the conversation with Theo all combined really did make me feel as if I was younger and not so expectant. For the first time, I found myself wondering what was going to happen next.
I had my answer shortly when I reached for the last cracker and found Theo’s hand already there.
Time seemed to slow. A wave of tingling warmth raced up my body, my ears buzzing with the intensity of the sensation. Theo looked over and brought the cracker to his lips. He bit it in half, and brought the rest to my lips.
I took the cracker, his soft fingertips grazing over my lips. I lifted my hand and took his, weaving our fingers together. Unlike before, when he had seemed unwilling to commit, now his fingers curled against mine.
I settled back in my seat, and Theo scooted over to lean against me. Our hands between us, unspoken words and unaddressed heat between us, we watched the rest of the ballet together.
7
Theo
By the time intermission came around, I had a whole fuckton of questions that I wanted answered. The most important one was, how had I gone from so scared I could hardly speak, to being totally enamored by this older alpha? He was unlike anyone I had ever spent time with, whether they were a friend or a lover. He seemed to understand exactly what I needed to hear at any given time, and even when I didn’t need to hear something. I had thought for sure he was going to push at the whole panic attack I’d had when I almost drank alcohol while pregnant; instead, he gave me space, like he understood I hadn’t wanted to talk about it.
When I thought about it, the difference kind of made sense. He was older. He was more mature, more worldly, more experienced. He wasn’t riding a constant wave of aggressive hormones, and he wasn’t trying to figure himself out. He knew what he wanted, and he knew how to get it.
The difference was confidence. And his confidence gave me confidence too, way more than I ever thought I’d have tonight. He made me feel safe, especially when he’d held my hand before while we stood outside. I could have squealed like a little girl when we’d touched again while both reaching for that last cracker. Such a silly thing to turn into a bonding moment, but he’d been all for it because he didn’t care about being silly. He liked it, even, if his tie was anything to go by.
During the intermission, we talked more, and I told him about my classes while he gave me a brief overview of what he did as a stockbroker. Even the watered-down details flew over my head, though.
Quinton ordered more crackers for us just as the show was about to start up again, the lights dimming. I leaned in against him again and reached for his hand, setting mine in his palm. He wrapped his fingers around mine, making my blood fizz with heat.
The crackers came and I nibbled on them through th
e rest of the ballet, my attention divided between the performance and the hollow, cavernous ache in my stomach. I hadn’t been able to eat all day, despite actually having food in the apartment. Too nervous, too nauseous. The caviar had brought the nausea back, surging to the surface at the taste of those slimy, salty fish eggs as they popped between my teeth; the crackers, on the other hand, had made me hungry, so hungry I actually regretted giving Quinton that half earlier.
Fuck, I was barely pregnant and my body was already so conflicted about what it wanted.
The crackers ran out. I drank more water to fill the empty space, but my body wasn’t about to be fooled. And then I felt it, a disquiet deep in my middle, a brewing gurgle building and building, erupting into a long earthquake rumble that seemed so loud to me it was a wonder everyone in the audience didn’t turn and look up at me. I sank down a little in my seat, hoping that at least the music had been loud enough to cover up some of the sound of my stomach growling.
I peeked over at Quinton.
He held his hand over his mouth, trying and failing to hide his smile.
Damn, I thought, and slid down further. My cheeks burned, my spine feeling like it was shriveling in on itself from embarrassment.
The ballet ended a few minutes after that, the lights coming on like the sun emerging after an eclipse. I squinted and blinked, the theatre around me reduced to shades and shapes as my eyes tried to adjust.
Quinton trembled beside me. His shoulders shook with silent laughter.
I glared at him, which made him laugh more. I couldn’t be mad at him, not really. He’d been so kind to me through all of this, and it didn’t hurt that he was way hotter than I’d thought he would be. Naturally, I didn’t go for older men, but he had a timeless sort of handsomeness that I thought I might be attracted to even if he was in his 60s. His hair was brown, thick and full, with glimmers of silver at his temples that showed up particularly well in this bright lighting; it looked as if a fairy had turned some of his hair to silk, rather than let him go gray.
His smile made his nose crinkle, creased the laugh lines around his mouth and the corners of his eyes. Very suddenly, the urge to kiss him came over me, a deep heat that kindled into existence out of nowhere. My groin ached. I ached.
Sweet Success: East Coast Sugar Daddies: Book 2 Page 6
