Page 22 of Dance for Me
Damn him, if he’d acted like a prick the way she’d anticipated and tried to force her to conform to the rules of the club, she would have balked. She’d learned long ago to dig her heels in when pressured into doing something she didn’t want to do—even if it meant a black eye.
For years she’d rebelled against her parents...until their threats were no longer threats but reality.
But Braun hadn’t threatened her, hadn’t coerced her. He’d simply laid down the facts without demanding anything from her, and her own guilt at disobeying him had done the rest.
She hated displeasing him.
God, she was so confused. Used to bullies, she could deal with them. Her family was something else entirely, a force so vicious she couldn’t stand against them, so yes, she gave them what they demanded so that they’d leave her alone for a few months. That was self-preservation, wasn’t it?
Braun...he made her yearn to say and do the right thing to make him happy. The stroke of his voice, of a gentle good girl, was more exhilarating than finally achieving a perfect grand jeté after months of practice.
Writing these fucking lines had given her plenty of time to think. Not about why she was doing so in the first place, but about what he said in the minutes before she started.
Surrender. Control. Trust. Power. Bravery.
He was a lot smarter than she’d given him credit for. Planting seeds that sprouted into questions until she had so many of the damn things circling her brain she couldn’t stop thinking about the whole sordid situation.
And then, oh, and then he’d had the gall to ignore her. Going about his business like she didn’t exist, sitting directly opposite him. Her attempts to goad him into speaking hadn’t worked, hadn’t garnered her much more than the occasional glance as if asking her was she sure she wanted to continue annoying him?
Now he was on the damn phone, having a casual conversation with someone named Mike, and his fingers were flying over the keyboard.
Long fingers on strong hands, she mused. Hands that maybe wouldn’t hurt her if she let them touch...
No!
A bitter taste filled her mouth as she dropped the pen and shoved back from the desk. Shaking, she cursed Braun for putting her in this position and tempting her to stray from her comfort zone into the unknown world he governed. Teasing her with ideas of bravery and submission.
“Okay, Mike, I’ll see you then.” The man in question ended his call and rose, walking around the desk to crouch in front of her as she huddled in her chair. “What spooked you, little one? You were doing so well.”
There he went again, soothing her with the voice she hated to love.
The big man with his big hands confused the hell out of her. He was everything she didn’t want or need in her life, yet he’d slithered into it and under her skin in a matter of hours. He’d done what no one else had ever done and convinced her he was an okay guy.
“I-I need to go get ready to dance.” It was a lifeline she grateful grabbed onto with both hands. An excuse to get away from him for a while, away from this room where his scent permeated every single breath she took.
“Don’t think so.” Braun shifted his hands so they lay on the arms of the chair, blocking her most direct escape route without touching her. Did he know she’d lose her shit if he touched her now? “You can get up on that stage at midnight for all I care. I’m concerned about you, darlin’.”
Goddamn him.
“I don’t need your concern,” she snapped. Wow, that came out bitchy.
Braun’s blue eyes turned so dark, she thought they were black. There was a flash of temper before he closed them and took a long, slow breath. When he looked at her a few tense moments later, he was calm again, but his tone of voice was something else when he spoke. Like thunder in the night, it rolled and boomed. “Seems to me you need two things, Boadicea. A lesson in how to communicate effectively,” he growled, fingers digging into the chair arms, “and a lesson in how not to speak to a man who spanks the attitude out of rude submissives any given day of the week.”
Trapped in the chair, facing down an angry Dominant, Bodie whimpered. She pressed her legs together tightly as her body responded to his words with a swift and mortifying rush of fluid. “I-I’m sorry,” she stammered, unnerved by how swollen she felt between her legs. “I didn’t mean to be rude.”
“Do we need to add lying to your newest set of infractions?”
Oh fuck, she’d unleashed the Dominant, hadn’t she? With one ill-considered sentence, she’d managed to banish the sweet, easy-going, understanding man who’d been so patient with her, and freed the demon beneath. Well, at least now she’d see just what kind of monster he’d been hiding from her before she did something really stupid like fall for him or volunteer to be his human whipping post.
She flinched from his hand when he lifted it, steeling herself for the crack of his heavy hand across her face. Her arm rose in what seemed like slow motion to shield herself, but Braun’s long fingers wrapped around her wrist and lowered it back to her lap.
Held it there while his other fingers pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation. He stayed like that for a long time, long enough for her heart to ease off its frantic pace, before he scrubbed his face roughly and studied her intently. Then he cupped her cheek with his massive palm. “Never have I raised my hand to a woman in anger, little one. I’m not going to deviate from that with you. My word on it.”
Lip quivering, Bodie felt another chunk of resistance float away. The heat and gentleness of his palm burned inside her, urging her to lean into the caress like a cat. He was making it so easy for her to trust him, and the more time she spent in his company, the more she wanted to sink to her knees and just...give in.
What would it be like to stop fighting? To just surrender and let the fear, the unholy anxiety, pass into his hands? She couldn’t recall a period of time where she didn’t carry that burden around with her wherever she went, every second of her life. Constantly searching her surroundings for her parents, for her past to sneak up behind her and stab her in the back.
Or worse, drag her kicking and screaming back into hell.