Angelina
I fit a pair of hoops through my earlobes and rub my lip glossed lips together, looking in the mirror. Jared’s already at the club working-he’s eased off sticking with me every second of the day, but it’s Saturday night and I’ll be down there to dance in an hour.
My limbs are loose, my butt still tingles and I’m sore in several key places from the spanking and sex Jared gave me before he left.
He said if he didn’t, he wouldn’t be able to stand watching me dance up on the box tonight. That he’d tear the heads off all the guys who looked at me and the spanking I’d get after would be way worse.
It’s so wrong that I want to tempt that fate. Because every minute I’m with Jared brings the sharp pain of knowing we can’t be together, even though we’re perfect for each other. With him, everything is easy. He gets me. Makes me laugh with his teasing, knows when to be serious. Understands what makes me tick-more than I do, I sometimes think.
And sex with him?
Better than dancing.
The first time I had sex was the summer after I graduated from high school. I told my boyfriend at the time it was almost as good as dancing. Needless to say, he was totally offended.
But the sex with Jared goes way beyond anything I’ve done with or to my body. It’s more artistic than a quadruple pirouette. More satisfying than the best choreographed piece. He lays me bare. Not just my body, but my very being-who am I at the core-and then he honors me. Pleasures me. Gives so much while he takes it all.
I sketched out my ideas for the warehouse, as he demanded. And I even made a list of dancers I’d like to ask to participate. I couldn’t quite bring myself to ask them, though. Because where would we rehearse? When? We’re all busy with the faculty’s stupid dances.
We’ve also carefully avoided the topic of our relationship. Like we both have this unspoken agreement to just enjoy this time while we have it.
But I know when he walks away, when the two weeks are up and he cuts me loose, I’m going to be begging to have my memories erased.
Because I won’t be able to live with the pain of what I’ve lost. What I can’t keep.
I grab my purse and hook it over my shoulder before I step out the door. My body’s already tingling with the excitement of seeing its master again.
When I leave to pick up Talya and Remy I can scarcely believe it’s only been one week since the crash. My whole world has changed. I’ve changed.
I pull up in front of Remy’s first and she comes out-all aglow with excitement. And she hasn’t even hooked up with a hot dominant werewolf who insinuates himself into the very fabric of her being.
But she’s like me, I guess. More excited by this dancing than what we have at school.
“How’s it going, girl?” she sings as she slides into the front passenger seat. “Ready to rock it?”
“You know it.” I take off before she’s buckled her belt. “Remy, do you have more fun with this dancing than school?”
“Hell, yes!” She doesn’t even hesitate.
“Why, do you think?”
“Oh my God, so many reasons.” She starts ticking off on her fingers. “I get to insert my own creativity in the process, we have a live and appreciative audience who aren’t all over eighty, I get to dance with my best friends, there’s no one breathing down my neck telling me I’m doing it wrong, there’s no one standing in the wings dying to stab me in the back to take my place… shall I go on?” She casts a look at me. “Why? What are you thinking?”
I shrug, deciding whether to hold back the words that have already tumbled to the tip of my tongue. “What would you think about doing a full length show? Like something super out there but totally entertaining? One part Cirque du Soleil, one part Blue Man Group, one part… I don’t know, what we do at Eclipse?”
“Hell, yeah!” Again, there’s no hesitation. I pull up in front of Talya’s house and when she gets in, Remy says, “Angelina’s going to choreograph a full length show for us. Total performance art badass shit.”
“Well, wait. I’m just thinking about it,” I splutter.
Talya leans forward from the back seat. “Do it! I’m totally in. One hundred percent.”
The twitters of excitement that I’ve flirted with ever since I first voiced my dream out loud to Jared flare up, flapping their wings so fast I lose my breath. “You are? Both of you?”
“Are you kidding?” Remy laughs. “I’d drop out of school and follow you anywhere to do this work. In a heartbeat. If you said we’re going to take this show on a tour of the country in a VW bus, I’d organize the bake sale to fund it.” She grins. “I’ve been dying for you to do more work like this.”
“Me too.” Talya smacks my shoulder. “I can’t wait! When do we start?”
“Um, well, I have to find us a space to rehearse in. And to perform. I want it to be an ongoing show-not just a weekend or two, but every weekend. Something that goes on the list of Things To Do in Tucson. Something we could make real money from-paid performances.”
“Okay, then I will have to worry about someone standing in the wings to take my place,” Remy says, but there’s a laugh in her voice. “That would be freaking amazing. My parents would die-they’ve always said I’ll never make any money as a dancer.”
“Same,” Talya says.
“Same,” I agree. “Let’s prove them wrong.”