Home > Forbidden Dance (Lover's Dance #1)(7)

Forbidden Dance (Lover's Dance #1)(7)
Author: Deanna Roy

I want to see them, not because of her, but for him. I want to see his expression. How he felt about her.

If it was the same way he looked at me in the storage room.

I type in “censored Dance Blitz” and click on a few links. I don’t get anything useful right away, but finally buried in a thread I find some embedded images that haven’t been deleted.

These were taken by cell phones of audience members watching the show as it was recorded. Heat rushes to my face to see the naked woman, arms in the air, flaunting herself in front of Blitz.

He looks ready to eat her up. His expression is wolfish, his eyes devouring her. Parts of me burn that I haven’t paid any attention to in a long time. I wonder what happened after this moment and scroll through the comments. Someone came and wrapped her in a robe, apparently, but there are no images. The people posting are only interested in the naked woman.

And no, that isn’t anything like how he looked at me. He was mischievous, charming, cute. When I moved away, he was a downright gentleman. He never pushed.

I scroll back up and look at him, then her, then him.

I sit back, my breathing faster than I expected. My body is so hot. Images of Blitz collide with feelings I once knew, ways I once felt. I was so young then, though, barely figuring out what went where. But the urgency is the same. The need.

The beep beep beep of the door opening sends me into a panic. It’s only been fifteen minutes! My hands slam the laptop shut and slide it under the shelves.

Assuming Irma has forgotten something and might pop her head through the doorway, I snatch a box of newsletters and begin flipping through them.

After a moment, I realize it could be someone else coming in, so I stand up to investigate. I’m almost to the door when Mindy charges through, nearly running smack into me.

“Oh!” she says. “Livia!”

I press my hand against my chest and laugh. “What are you doing here on a Tuesday?”

“My mom told your mom that the secretary was going to be gone while you were here. Naturally, they sent me to make sure you didn’t do anything naughty!”

We both dissolve into laughter at the thought of Mindy making sure I stayed straight. She was the only reason I ever defied my parents’ orders.

Mindy looks around the storage room. She’s dressed a lot like me, loose jeans, plain sweater, no makeup, simple hair. Hers is light brown. She’s homeschooled too.

“At least Mom didn’t come up here herself,” I say. “You are not going to BELIEVE who showed up at the dance academy.”

“Blitz Craven!” she says.

“What?” My face floods with shock. “How?”

“It was all over the local news. He’s helping underprivileged dancers realize their dreams!”

“What did they show?”

“Just him talking at some press thing. He wasn’t at the academy yet.”

My elation collapses. “Did your mother tell mine about that?” My mind races. If my parents find out about Blitz, they might stop me from helping with the wheelchair ballerinas. Then I won’t get to see Gabriella!

“She didn’t,” Mindy assures me. “I don’t think she knows. She doesn’t pay attention to stuff like that.”

“They’ll take me out of dance classes for sure if they know someone like Blitz is there,” I say.

“I get it,” she says. “I know.”

Mindy doesn’t know about Gabriella. I’ve considered telling her a dozen times, but I just can’t. It’s too big a secret. My parents have never spoken of their granddaughter and have forbidden me to bring her up. I love Mindy and being rebellious with her, but giving my baby up for adoption is not something I can talk to anybody about.

“Are you sneaking Internet?” Mindy asks, glancing around for the telltale laptop.

“I was!” I say. “I found censored images of Blitz Craven!”

“You didn’t!” Mindy plops onto the floor. “How?”

I sit next to her and pull the laptop back out from beneath the shelf. “There was a dance they had to edit because the dancer stripped naked,” I say.

“Show me, show me, show me.”

Her eagerness is childlike, and I know we’re being immature and silly. We’re both sheltered, living in a bubble of homeschool and church created by our families. Mom found Mindy’s mother through a homeschool group and eventually recruited the family to our church. Mindy also has a younger brother, so they can all congratulate themselves on socializing us even while keeping us away from the evils of public school.

But while Mindy has more access to media and the outside world, I had the benefit of a normal life up until I got pregnant. So we can swap stories, her regaling me with current movies and world news, and me explaining what it was like to have P.E. and sit next to boys in darkened classrooms.

I show Mindy the image and she squeals. “Oh my God, look at those boobs!” She presses her hands against her chest. “Is there anything showing more of Blitz?”

I hadn’t even thought of that. My fingers click back up to the search box and my body flushes as I type the words “Blitz Craven naked.”

Results begin appearing. Blitz has done a million nude shoots, it seems, although they are all proper, for magazines. Still, we click on one after the other, Blitz stretching on a stage in nothing but his own skin, leg carefully blocking the goods. Laughing as he’s surrounded by women in leotards, probably contestants on his show. They cover him with their hands. And one particularly sexy one on a black leather sofa, a satin sheet wound across his hips.

I can’t take my eyes off him. This man was dancing with me just an hour ago.

“Man,” Mindy says. “He’s really something. So what happened?”

I tell her about meeting him, and the ballet class and the corset in the storage room.

She starts fanning her face. “Oh my God! You were alone with Blitz Craven in the dark?”

I nod, the memory of it flooding back to me.

“Are you going to see him again?”

“I guess,” I say. “I don’t know which classes he’s doing. But next week, for sure.”

Mindy stands up and paces back and forth. “This is incredible! Imagine! My friend and Blitz Craven!” She drops down beside me again. “How old is he?”

I check the Wikipedia entry. “Twenty-six,” I say.

“You’re nineteen,” she says. “That’s not bad.”

I shove her shoulder. “Blitz Craven and I are not going to be a thing,” I say.

“You don’t know that,” she insists. “It sounds like he was flirting with you pretty hard.”

“I guess.” I don’t know. This is where my experience is definitely lacking. I’ve never had a proper boyfriend. I couldn’t call Gabriella’s father that. I’ve never been flirted with, not by anyone as old and experienced as Blitz, for sure.

“He probably acts like that with everyone,” I say, gesturing at the pictures. “He’s known for liking tons of women.”

Mindy takes the laptop and types in “Blitz Craven girlfriend.”

The hits go on and on. Picture after picture of him with one woman or another. Getting out of limos. Walking on red carpets. Dancing. Kissing. Holding their hands up as if to ward off the photographer.

Hot Books
» Buy Me Sir
» Daddy's Pretty Baby
» The Dom's Virgin: A Dark Billionaire Romanc
» Wet
» Mastered (The Enforcers #1)
» The Greek's Forgotten Wife (The Boarding Sc
» If You Were Mine
» His Erotic Obsession (The Jamison Sisters #
» Dominated (The Enforcers #2)
» The Sheik’s Sensuous Trap
» Kept (The Enforcers #3)
» Fallen Crest High (Fallen Crest High #1)
» The Billionaire Takes All (The Sinclairs #5
» Pregnant with the Sheik's Baby (The Samara
» Dragon's Storm (Legion Of Angels #4)