Pas de Deux: Part Two (A Cross and Pointe Novel Book 2) (3 page)

When they were settled, Cillian turned to her. “You okay?”

His delicious voice was soft and deep in her ear and Sammi suppressed a shiver. She still couldn't speak, afraid she'd burst into joyous tears if she did. Instead, she did the first thing that came naturally: she slipped her hand around the back of his neck and brought her lips against his in a sweet, grateful kiss.

“Thank you,” she whispered when she pulled away.

His jaw clenched as he swallowed, his eyes moving all over her face. “You're welcome.”

She wrapped both her hands around his arm and leaned her head on his shoulder. Excitement swelled in her chest when the opening strains of the ballet began, and the stage lights lit up so brightly they hurt her eyes for an instant, and then she was gone, swept away, her heart soaring from the joy and beauty of it all.

The dancers portraying Giselle and Albrecht danced their roles with enough emotion to make her want to cry all over again. The music was beautiful and flawless from the live orchestra in the pit beneath the stage, her head swaying slightly from side to side in time with it. Sometimes she'd close her eyes, envisioning herself onstage again, free from the crippling pain of her past, dancing the part of lovelorn Giselle, leaping and turning across the stage effortlessly in a beautiful, sparkling costume to a captive, adoring audience.

For one instant, a cloud darkened the room and her heart contracted painfully when she remembered why she would never get that chance again.

Stop it.

Something brushed her cheek and she turned her head. Cillian stared down at her, tenderness and understanding in his eyes as he brushed his thumb across her cheek again.

He was brushing away her tears.
When did I start crying?

She swallowed, her face heating up as she broke his gaze. How could she explain what she was feeling right now, this strange mixture of being moved to tears by the beauty of the art she loved so much, and being moved to tears because she could never really be part of it ever again?

Cillian slid an arm across her shoulders, his fingers playing in the ends of her hair, and leaned his cheek against the top of her head. It struck her anew that although he was a man capable of crippling violence, either because of his military career or his current chosen path as a fighter, he was never anything but completely gentle with her in a way that not only made her feel safe, but in a way that felt completely natural, like he was born to be that soothing hand for her.

The dark cloud receded, just for the moment, and stayed away for the rest of the performance.

When it ended, Sammi was on her feet before she was even aware she was moving, to give the cast a standing ovation with everyone else in the theater. The dancer who portrayed Giselle practically brought the house down with the thunderous applause she drew. She curtsied deeply, her head bowing humbly.

Sammi's heart caught again; she knew just how that moment felt, the end of a spectacular performance, feeling overwhelmed by an audience that so appreciated her. The ghost of that memory pulled hard at her heart, and again, her eyes stung.

Cillian turned to her when the curtains dropped and the audience began trickling out. “Ready to go, beautiful?”

She nodded, following him out of the row, casting one more wistful look at the stage.

They strolled back to the truck, their arms brushing against each other as they walked. Finally Cillian reached for her hand, and it was as if their hands had been specifically created to hold each other.

“I wanna show you something,” Sammi said suddenly. They were back across the street from La Cucina, and Sammi pulled him around the corner of the block and down the street a little ways. She stopped in front of a small, vacant space that had a “Lease available” sign up in the window.

“This is my studio. This is the place.”

It was really too dark to see much more than the shadowy brick that made up the building's façade, but it still made her happy to be near it.

Cillian nodded. “I'd like to see it in the daytime, but this is a nice little space. I could definitely see a dance studio here.”

“It's gonna take quite a few more checks, but then I'll be able to afford the down payment to get the loan.” She rapped her knuckles on the glass. “This will be mine one day.” She sighed and let her fingers trail down the window before they resumed their place intertwined with his.

They continued their easy stroll back to the parking garage where he'd left his truck. Sammi felt his eyes on her and glanced up at him.

“Have a good time?”

Sammi nodded and smiled. “I can't even begin to describe how much I enjoyed myself.”

She stopped walking and tugged on his hand to get him to stop, too, so she could slip her arms around his waist. She leaned her head against his chest for a long moment, enjoying the feeling of warmth that encompassed her inside and out while she was in his arms. After a moment, she pulled away and looked up at him.

“Cillian, that was the most thoughtful thing anyone has ever done for me. You bought those tickets a few weeks ago, didn't you? They sold out so fast.”

He nodded. “Before we talked that night, I already knew you were down about the ballet. Jazz sorta hinted that it was your favorite and that you were pretty sad when you didn't think you'd be able to go.”

“Ah, Jazz.” Sammi chuckled.
Should've known she had something to do with it.
“Still, you didn't have to do anything about it but you did anyway, just to make me happy.”

“I very much enjoy doing that, making you happy. Hope I was successful.” The corner of his lush mouth lifted and he tilted his head.

You have no idea.
“Very successful.”

She pressed herself up on her toes and brushed her lips to his cheek and chin. When he tilted his face down, she gave him another sweet kiss on his lips.

“Thank you, Cillian.”

He brushed a lock of hair behind her ears, looking immensely pleased with himself. “You're welcome. It was my pleasure.” He paused. “It seemed like—it was a little hard for you, a couple times.”

She couldn't keep her face from falling, just a little. “It was. Only because I always had a dream of dancing the part of Giselle one day. I never will, but I've made my peace with it.”

“You never know. Don't say 'never'.”

“You just did,” she teased. “Really, I'm okay. I loved every second of it.”

“I'm glad.” He stroked a finger along her jaw. “Well. It's after ten-thirty on a school night. I better get you home.”

Sammi nodded and hugged his arm, leaning against him as they continued down the street toward the parking garage. She was surprised at how easy it was becoming for her to be affectionate with him; not only did she want to, but it just came naturally.

She looked up at his handsome profile.
I trust you.

They were quiet on the drive back to her apartment, but kept their fingers loosely intertwined the entire time. When the truck came to a stop, she glanced at Cillian from under her lashes.

“You—you can come in for a while, if you want.” Her heart pounded.

“Sure.” He met her gaze, his eyes smoldering at her, and a little surge of nervous heat zipped through her.

He followed her into the building and up to her floor. Sammi unlocked her door and Rocky came hurtling from her bedroom, the tip of his tail curled over in greeting. As she bent to stroke her chattering cat, Cillian shut the door and locked up.

“Care for some mindless television?” Sammi asked as she made her way to the hall closet to hang up her jacket.

In reply, he removed his suit jacket, flopped down on her couch, and stretched his legs out in front of him, watching as she kicked off her heels and padded across the carpet to join him.

She curled up into his side as he put his arm around her, letting his hand drop lightly to her bare back. For half a second, she stiffened.

You can be touched by him. It's okay.

Sammi allowed his hand to remain where it was, so he started to lightly stroke her skin. Her eyes closed as she lost herself in the sensation of his rough fingertips skirting her back with the lightest touch possible. The sensation tickled and soothed her at the same time, and if she'd been able to, she would have started purring.

An old movie from the eighties was on, something she'd never seen before. It didn't matter what it was, because she wasn't watching it. All she cared about was how incredible the touch of his fingers was, tracing the straight-line indentation down her back, the outline of her shoulder blades, swirling lazy circles where her ribs curved from her spine. Her skin tingled wherever he touched her, and it tingled...where he didn't. Sammi held still, but as her skin flushed with warmth, she wondered if he could feel it.

Does he know he's getting to me? Am I getting to him?

She looked up at him, and he glanced down at her, his calm eyes questioning. “Would you—” She broke off and bit her lip. His fingers continued to stroke her skin as he looked at her with heavy-lidded eyes.

“Would I what?”

She summoned her courage and whispered what she wanted. “Could you stretch out and lay next to me?”

Cillian's fingers paused for a moment as he held her gaze, and she shivered from the heat of it. Then he nodded and Sammi crawled to the other side of him so he could swing his legs up onto the couch. It was wide enough to accommodate them both if they wanted to lay shoulder-to-shoulder, but Sammi lay with her back to his chest, her head pillowed on his bicep. She pulled his arm over her, his hand landing lightly on her tummy and looked up at him again.

Her heart thudding, she lifted her hand to reach up and touch the back of his head, pulling gently to get him to lower his face. She registered the intensity in his eyes the moment before hers shut.

When Cillian's lips touched hers lightly, it punted her pounding heart into overdrive. Little pinpricks of heat that started deep in her belly hummed through her veins and blossomed outward.

His hand rested on her hip, his legs tangling with hers, and as he shifted behind her, Sammi felt just how much she was getting to him. It frightened her, intimidated her, and exhilarated her. Part of her wanted to run and hide; part of her felt the threat of panic, even though he was doing his best to hold his body away from hers.

But then those pinpricks of heat shot downward and pooled between her thighs, making her flesh twitch and pulse gently, and she realized she didn't want to stop.

He moved his lips against hers in that slow, sensuous way she could never seem to stop thinking about, especially when she looked at his mouth, and for a moment, she couldn't kiss him back. She was completely overwhelmed with enjoying the feeling of his warm, soft mouth feasting leisurely on hers and drew in deep breaths to take in the deliciously spicy, clean scent that clung to him, that she couldn't get enough of.

When she felt the tip of his tongue slide along the seam of her lips, her eyes flew open as new desire flamed through her, igniting her to unfreeze. She returned his kisses, but as her body overruled her mind, she began kissing him hastily, eagerly. His lips curved against hers as he gently cupped the side of her face, silently imploring her to slow down.

A lifetime had passed since the last time pure, unspoiled
want
pounded through her veins the way it was doing right now, blood surging to sensitive areas that had long been disregarded as pleasurable body parts. Now, they stirred to life in a slow, delicious way, as if a switch had been flipped to turn her on. She was nervous, she was slightly anxious, but she was on fire like she'd never been before.

Cillian Ronan had managed to do the impossible—arouse her.

“You're beautiful.”

The whispered, reverential words tickled her ear as his hand trailed down her cheek to her neck, over her collarbones and down her sternum. The mere thought of what it would feel like for him to touch her skin beneath the protection of her dress sent another surge of hot desire needling through her. His hand rested lightly on her belly as his lips and tongue continued to take hers. Her head swam and between what his mouth was doing to her and the innocent places his hand grazed, she felt like she might explode.

“Cillian...”

Sammi sucked in a noisy breath when his lips slowly moved from her mouth to her chin, down the side of her jaw to its hinge, and came to rest against the pulse in her neck. He had to be able to feel how swiftly it was pumping, and she felt another upward curve of his lips against her skin.

He lifted his head, his pewter eyes dark gray as they met hers. “You want me to stop?”

She shook her head quickly.

Cillian smiled against her lips, before trailing them to the middle of her throat, and then downward in a line of firm, slow kisses until he reached the hollow spot at the base of her neck. She couldn't keep in a sigh of pleasure when she felt his tongue swirl slowly there before his lips continued down, grazing the sensitive skin of her collarbones before moving down further to her upper chest. He stopped at the edge of the neckline of her dress and followed it to each side, moving over the tops of her breasts to her sternum, and even through the fabric she could feel his mouth burning there. Suddenly his hand moved lower, skimming her thigh with the same feather-light touch he'd shown her back.

Sammi froze as an overwhelming wave of panic, fear, and desire slammed into her.

“C-Cillian,” she whispered again.

In reply, he stroked the skin of her thigh again, running his fingers from the top of her quadriceps down to her knee and back up. He swept his fingers from her outer thigh inward and gently pulled her top leg back toward his hip, keeping his movements very slow and deliberate.

You can tell him to stop anytime...but do you want to?

She didn't want to, but she couldn't help jumping when his fingers slid up her inner thigh and a fresh wave of panic set alarm bells off in her head. Fear blazed intensely, surging through her veins, pushing the desire back.

“Wait.” Her voice shook and she grasped for his hand.