Ripped (21 page)

“I froze. Then we were interrupted and he left, and I danced and came home.”

Bax was up and pacing the floor back and forth in front of the fireplace. “I’m going down there tomorrow to have a little talk to Pierre.” I could see even in this light that his body was a ball of tense muscle, his hands clenching and unclenching in rage. “He can’t get away with it, Jaz. You need to leave the show, and he needs to be exposed for the way he’s treated you. No one will work with him after this.”

“It’s not the first time, Bax.”

He stopped dead on the spot and turned to face me.

“He’s been doing it to new girls for ages. Nearly all the girls in the cast, I think, have had some encounter with him.”

“That doesn’t make it right.” Bax sat back on the bed and took my hands. “Someone has to speak up or it will keep happening.”

“I can’t.” My voice sounded frail and pathetic in my ears. “He can ruin me. As much as I’d like to believe in my ability, he could make sure I never dance again.” My eyes misted over. “What would I do if I couldn’t dance? No.” I shook my head and sniffed back the tears. “I just have to toughen up and not let him get to me. I won’t be alone with him again and eventually he’ll find someone else, someone weaker than me to target.”

“But, Jaz—”

“No, Bax. This is my one chance to make a name for myself, and I won’t let him take that away from me.” I squeezed his hands. “Please let me handle it.”

Bax curled up beside me, hugging me into his firm body. “I won’t let anything happen to you, Jaz. Even if I have to quit all my jobs and be your personal bodyguard day and night. He won’t get near you again, I promise.”

Snuggling in, I inhaled the faint remnants of cologne on Bax’s skin. “I would never … I couldn’t; you know that. You’re the only one I ever want to touch me.”

“I love you, Jaz, more than anything in this world.” He sighed. “If I’d been there it wouldn’t have happened. I’m so sorry …”

“It’s not your fault. If not tonight, he would have found another opportunity to corner me. The main thing is I know his intentions and I can be prepared.”

Soft butterfly kisses peppered my hair and down my cheek. “You’re mine.”

I turned my face upward to meet his lips. “And you’re mine.”

“Always.”

Bax’s hand slid down my body and grasped my hip. “These are the woolliest pajamas I’ve ever seen,” he murmured against my lips.

I giggled. “I was so cold before. I couldn’t get warm.”

“And now?” His fingers edged beneath the waist band.

“Now my body’s on fire. I wonder why?” My pants were guided down my legs until I could kick them off my feet. “Much better.” One dexterous hand flicked the buttons on my pajama top undone and that too was removed.

“Now that’s more like it.” Bax’s mouth worked its way from my earlobe to my neck, his soft lips heating the skin of my chest until they found one nipple and leisurely played with it. Teasing fingertips ran over my stomach, slowly circling as they went farther down until they settled at the apex of my thighs. My back arched as the pressure on my breast increased, and Bax sucked harder. His fingers stroked my heat, spreading the wetness around my entrance.

I loved the feel of his body, his soft skin stretched over the taut muscles of his torso. My hand ran down his stomach, feeling the contours of his rippled abdomen until it came to rest on his length. He was so hard. The heat radiating from him matched my own as I stroked up and down, spreading the liquid that had beaded on his tip.

From his slow, measured movements, I knew he wanted to play, but the only thing I wanted was to feel him inside me. His fingers danced around my core. I took hold of his hand and pressed it hard against me, at the same time bucking against it.

“Okay,” he said on a sigh. “I know what you want.” In one fluid movement he was above me, his breath on my cheek making every hair on my body stand to attention.

“I want you.” I nipped his jaw, making him groan. “I always want you.” My nails scraped lightly down his back until my hands came to rest on his firm, round ass.

He was lined up perfectly, pressing against me, then inch by inch filling me. With my legs wrapped around his hips, I lifted myself to meet him, holding him in place with my hands.

“More,” was all I could murmur, but it was all I needed to say. With the slightest thrust of his hips, he was buried deep inside, the sudden movement taking the breath from my lungs so it expelled in a short, sharp moan.

Our bodies became one, seamlessly joined by heart and soul as his lips once again found mine and breathed love back into me. This was what it should feel like to give yourself completely, and I would never have this feeling, or want this feeling with another. Bax rolled us over so I was in control, but I stayed lying on him, our bodies still connected from hip to chest. Bracing my hands under the pillow for traction, I moved my hips, my body rocking against his as he lifted his pelvis to match every stroke.

I was so close. The pressure inside me built with every subtle rock of my hips, the fire in my core heating my entire body. My muscles were like coiled springs as my movements became jerky and a wave of release washed over me. Bax, not ready to stop, grabbed my hips and held them down. He bucked up into me harder and faster until he groaned and dug his fingers into my ass, before he shuddered and I felt him pulse inside me.

We lay silently in the darkness, the fire long burned out, taking the last glimmer of light with it.

“I love you, Bax,” I whispered, my face nuzzled into his neck.

“I love you too, Jazzy, forever and always. Now that I’ve finally got you back, I’ll never let you go.”

The pulse on Bax’s neck drummed against my cheek, lulling me to sleep. The night had been a rollercoaster of emotions, from excitement for the fundraiser, to the nausea-inducing thought of Pierre’s expectations of me. But this was the only feeling that mattered now, as we lay here in our little apartment cuddled together, because this was real. This was the only thing that I cared about right at this moment—that I had the man who I love beside me, the feel of him inside me still tingling through my body, and I knew that he loved me as much as I loved him. Whatever life would throw at us, we would face it together, and as long as we were together, we would triumph.

B
AX HAD
already left for work by the time I arrived home, absolutely exhausted from a full day of dancing. Rehearsals still concerned me. Just because Mikhail had a Russian name didn’t mean he was the next Mikhail Baryshnikov. Bax had been right about him from the beginning. He wasn’t a strong dancer, either physically or metaphorically. His lifts were lackluster, and I quite often didn’t feel safe when he raised me above his head, unlike when Bax did it. Bax could lift me with one arm, his strength instilling such confidence in me that it allowed me to focus on my lines and positioning while in the air.

Dumping my bag in the coat closet, I went in search of the note I knew Bax would have written me before he left. Tonight, I found it attached to the old retro refrigerator.

Jazzy girl,

Dinner is in the fridge for you. Make sure you eat before you go drinking. You know what a lightweight you are
—
especially when you’ve survived on an apple all day.

Have a great time hitting the town, but remember to come home to me. I will always come home to you. You hold my heart.

Bax xx

Smiling, I opened the fridge to see what Bax had left for me. Surprise, surprise, it was pasta and calamari. He must have called in to see the Giancolis today and knowing Papa, he would have cooked the seafood especially for Bax.

As I showered and dressed, I pushed my nerves aside, convincing myself I’d have a good time with my new friends. It felt foreign for me to be going out with a large group of girls, having only been out with Tiff, Becca, and a couple of others to the dancers’ bar around the corner.

For years I’d danced all day and gone home. The people I had been surrounded by day in, day out, had been my dance partners and my troupe, but not my friends. Everyone had had their own lives, and had parted ways after rehearsals to see their families and loved ones, while I had gone to my apartment to eat microwaved mac and cheese.

At least once a week I had gone to see my mom, my only family, to make sure she was doing okay without Dad. For the first year she was definitely not okay, but over time she’d found her way and I’d started to think that maybe I would be able to go to New York after all. And now here I was, with Bax again and with actual friends.

The girls on
When the Ship Comes In
were increasingly friendly after Tiffany and Becca had led the way, seemingly unperturbed by the new girl stealing the lead in the production. I now felt like one of them, like I belonged, so much so that Louisa had invited me to her bachelorette party, my first ever. Life was good; in fact, it was better than good. It was fantastic.