Page 20 of Heart's Temptation
The hunter raised his bow, but I plucked a feather from my wing and held it before him in offering. He accepted my magical feather in exchange for my life. I was free to leave but would never be free of him until he claimed his one wish, only then would my life be my own.
I rose from the earth, weaving and twirling as I fought through the imaginary woods that had filled in around me, thick limbs and trailing vines reaching out to pull me into the darkness.
A patch of light ahead brought me to a momentary pause and I found myself spinning, basking in my momentary freedom. I stopped when the music did and leaned my hands on my thighs to catch my breath. Noticing the sun no longer warmed my skin, I looked up and saw that daylight had passed and was headed toward sunset, leaving orange and pink clouds in its wake.
It was only then I became cognizant of how long I’d been outside. I needed to be ready for dinner at six pm.
The silence was replaced by a slow clap, and I looked over to see that Gio had stepped up to the stage to help me down. Completely unnecessary, but I celebrated the fact he was touching me at all, even if it was just his warm hand on my elbow.
He wore an honest expression of awe and appreciation that took me by surprise.
I tried to hide the delight I felt at the old Gio making an appearance, but before I could shutter my brief happiness, he was already back to being the standoffish cold mafia man that I’d endured since he stormed into the bedroom and found Marko and me in bed together.
I dropped my gaze and hoped I'd successfully hidden the hurt. “Thanks. Don’t worry, I’ll quickly get cleaned up and be ready for dinner.” I hustled away, acknowledging the return of the knots in my stomach.
It was ridiculous, I knew, needing him to show me a sign that he still wanted me, when he clearly hated me, and with good reason. I had no right to have expectations regarding either man after what I’d done, leaving them like that, but it didn’t change how much I wanted it to be true. In Marko’s case, he was hanging on to his control by a thread and I assumed, holding back from taking me the way I wanted out of respect to Gio.
Nothing happened unless Gio allowed it, which was both frustrating and sexy as hell. The sexy part haunted me when I stepped into the shower a few minutes later. I moaned with pleasure as I turned the water on and the multiple jets massaged my shoulders, back and buttocks. In need of relief, I sat on the shower bench, placing one heel on the edge of the bench.
The water hit my sensitive slick opening and sheer pleasure zinged through me. Reaching down, I circled the hardened nub demanding release. I pictured opening the door back at my apartment and seeing Marko. His dark, angry expression taking me in, and the palpable relief expressed in his dark visage when he saw I was okay.
My vision shifted to Gio leaning me back by the staircase at the hotel. His body pinning me in place, his gaze searing me into stillness. I couldn’t hold back the moan as my mind jumped back and forth between the strong images.
Sinking a finger inside my wet heat, I penetrated my swollen lips, burying a second, and then a third, but it still wasn’t enough. Using my other hand, I teased my clit with the pad of my finger, easily gliding it across the surface. I alternated between circles, and furiously rubbing, as I coaxed myself toward release.
Heat traveled down my spine in waves. I was close, but I needed more. Angling my body toward the multiple jets, I shifted until one caught the tip of my nipple. A powerful orgasm ripped through me, and I cried out. Thank goodness I was sitting down as I was pretty sure I would have collapsed on the tiled shower floor had I been standing. Instead, I was left panting on the seat in the aftermath of a powerful orgasm, only standing when the water began to turn cold.
Exiting the shower, I saw anything a girl could ever want displayed on the counter. I spent extra time on my long locks instead of throwing my hair up in a damp ponytail like I usually did.
I added moisturizer to my face and gloss to my lips. Standing back, I checked out my image in the mirror, happy with the results of looking less ballerina and more woman for a change. Now I just needed to complete the look with the right outfit. In my room, I dug through my suitcase, bypassing my older clothing and looking at the new stuff Marko had bought me.
A glittery gold cocktail dress grabbed my attention. I held it up in front of me in the mirror. It was sexy as hell, but I didn’t wish to appear like I was trying too hard. I dug a little more and found a figure-hugging white mini dress in the softest material I’d ever felt, and smirked at my image when I put it on.
Oh yeah, just try and not notice me in this dress, I hummed to myself.
A white thong accompanied the dress, and I purposely did not choose a bra. After a final check in the mirror, I was ready to confront Gio.
CHAPTER EIGHT
My eyes flickered open to see a beautiful wash of orange and yellow beaming through my window. It took a moment to get my bearings and when I did, my first thought was of Nicolette—had she behaved, or gotten into trouble while I’d slept? An urgency to check on her had me grabbing the first available item of clothing, a pair of silk pajama pants. Throwing them on, I made my way down the hallway to where I’d last seen her.
The apartment was way too quiet. Panic settled in my gut, and I raced for her room to find it empty, and her bed untouched. Shit! Had I lost her already? On the dresser sat an open duffle bag that had seen better days. Strewn around its battered frame were a host of used ballet shoes and ribbons. Their worn appearance told the story of the person who had worked them so thoroughly— dedication, passion and hard work were all evident in the duct-taped, sweat-stained slippers.
The patio door, which had been closed and locked when I showed her the room, was now open. She must have gone out to the deck. I stepped to the side of the open doorway and spotted her in the center of the stage. I should have known she wouldn’t be able to resist it.
I could just make out the white tails of the air pods she wore in her ears as she spun on one foot. She looked so powerful spinning graceful arcs on the tip of her toe shoe. I counted the revolutions. One, two, three, four, five. She landed on the sixth, and dipped into a perfect plié. That was one of the few ballet terms I still remembered from back in the day. She switched legs and repeated what she’d just done on the other side, performing it equally well.
When had her body turned into a work of living art? She’d always been a dancer, but she’d become so much more, and I couldn’t help but admire the dichotomy of her delicate fragility and strength.
Even the sweat that covered her body seemed like a magical elixir, and it was hard seeing the real Nicolette at that moment. Memories assaulted me and my thoughts drifted back in time to when Nicolette was accepted into the performing arts program.
“What’s taking so long?” Marko demanded in my ear. “Maybe we should go back there.”
My entire family had come out to see Nicolette’s first performance. She wasn’t the only one performing of course, but the audience was waiting for her solo which was the final performance of the night.
“Relax, she’ll be on in a moment.”
And almost like I’d flipped a switch, the lights dimmed, and the music came on.