The Billionaire's Ballet: A Contemporary Billionaire Friends to Lovers Romance (Friends with Benefits) (18 page)

“Thank you,” I said.

Bennett still hadn’t spoken, but he nodded at me again as they turned away.

Mom walked with me back to the dressing room.

“I’m so sorry, Juliet. Bennett contacted me yesterday asking if it would be okay to bring his mother to your show.”

I pushed through the dressing room door, stripping off parts of my costume as I went. I didn’t have anything to say.

I picked up a soft blue T-shirt and jerked it over my head, then pulled my bodice off underneath it. Thankfully, this production didn’t have any required appearances afterward, just a cast party I could safely skip. I was not up for socializing.

“Are we still doing our traditional night at the Hyatt?” Mom asked.

I wrapped myself in a skirt so I could jerk the tights off and replaced my toe shoes with sandals. “Of course. I just didn’t expect to see him.”

Mother sat on the stool next to me. “You sure things are done between you two?” she asked.

“We haven’t even talked in two months. He didn’t even try.” I handed the wispy scarves and bodice to a costume assistant who was organizing the racks.

“Neither did you.”

“I wasn’t the one acting like an ass.”

I retrieved the bag she carried for me and shoved my tights and toe shoes inside. We meandered through the room to the back exit. The Hyatt was only a few city blocks down. And it was our tradition.

Thankfully nowhere on our walk was Sonbitch Bennett.

Chapter 24

When we got to our rooms, Mom came over so we could order our usual late-night room service. While we pored over the menu, she got three texts in a row but ignored them.

“Who is that?” I asked.

She shrugged. “Probably Carrie. I was supposed to sneak off with her if things went well with you and Bennett.”

“Mom!”

“Well? We thought you’d fall into each other’s arms. We were wrong.” She picked up her phone and scrolled through the texts.

“What does she want?”

She read for a second, then said, “Bennett didn’t want to go out, and she’s asking where she can grab a meal without feeling awkward about being alone in the city.”

Guilt stabbed me. “Why don’t you go with her?” I said. “It sounds like you hit it off.”

“I like her a lot. I did while she was Mrs. Claremont number three. I hated what happened to her after Bennett was born.”

I fell back on the bed. “I could probably stand to just go to sleep,” I said. “This time isn’t like the other opening nights, where you were only here a couple days. You’ve been here for weeks.”

She laughed. “I may be overstaying my welcome.”

I draped my arm over my face. “No, no. It’s not that. And it’s fine for you to go rescue Carrie. We can go out any night. I think I need to recover from seeing Bennett anyway.”

She sat next to me. “Don’t you think that if it upsets you this much, there is something there?”

“Sure there is. Animosity and disbelief,” I said. I moved my arm so I could see her. “Seriously, Mom. Go save Carrie.”

She stood up. “Okay. She’s not far. You text me if you need me.”

“I will.” I closed my eyes. I wanted some time alone. The image of Bennett standing among all those people in that perfect suit was burned into me. I wanted to sleep it off, like a bad drug. Or a hangover.

Mom kissed my forehead and slipped out the door. In the quiet of the room, I started to calm down. I wanted the Claremonts behind me. I might not ever get over Bennett, any more than I had gotten over Quinn as a girl, but I could still move forward.

There was a quiet knock at the door. We hadn’t actually ordered any food, so Mom must have forgotten something.

I forced myself up.

But when I opened the door, nobody was there.

On the floor was a silver box.

I wondered if Mom had left it for me. I glanced both ways down the hall. Empty.

I kept the door propped open as I lifted the lid.

Inside was a note.

“You really were saying good-bye that day. A ballerina should have both her slippers.”

Beneath it was the match of the shoe Bennett gave me the night of the party. The one we were supposed to give a proper fitting.

The elevator dinged. Bennett!

I didn’t even think about how angry I was or what had happened between us. I just knew he had come back a second time, and maybe I owed him the chance to talk. I could do that much. Listen.

I snatched the slipper and set the box on the ground to prop open the door. Then I ran down the hall and around the corner, hoping to stop him from leaving.

The elevator was still open, but inside was only an elderly lady who looked at me quizzically. “Going down?” she asked.

I shook my head and backed away. He was just here. Where had he gone?

We were on the tenth floor. I made a mad dash down the hall for the nearest stairwell.

I flung open the door and began descending in a panic.

When I got to the first landing, I peered down.

And saw a suited arm with a hand holding the railing.

“Bennett?”

The movement stopped and he leaned into the space to look up.

I kept going down. “Bennett!”

He waited for me, less granite now, managing a small smile. “Juliet.”

I paused a few stairs above him. I held out the slipper. “You can’t just leave it. You were supposed to try it on me.” I hesitated, not sure if I should say the next part. But I did. “We should at least find out if it’s the right fit.”

He had to clear his throat before he said, “Is that an invitation?”

I nodded and turned to go back up the stairs. He followed, catching up in time to open the exit door.

Our steps were whisper soft on the carpet as we returned to my room.

“Clever,” he said, bending to retrieve the box.

“I didn’t have an elevator opening directly to my Presidential Suite,” I said. “You’re seriously slumming it to be in a mid-hallway room with a view of an alley.”

The door closed behind us as we moved inside. I sat on the edge of the bed, the shoe in my lap. Now that we were here, I felt less certain about what would happen next. After a long silence I asked, “Bennett, why did you come? It’s been two months.”

He stood a safe distance from me. “I know what Quinn said to you. That I was just getting back at him. Revenge for Pamela.”

“Were you?”

He paused. “I was the one who tipped off the photographers.”

My head pounded. “So you were just trying to get even.”

“He was pretty taken with you,” he said. “But I did want to save you the sorrow. That was part of it.”

My anger threatened to spill out, scathing and hot, but I kept it in check. “And what was the rest?”

“You,” he said. “You came onto the estate like a breath of fresh air.”

I didn’t buy it. “You hurt me.”

“I didn’t think that was possible. You were in love with Quinn,” he said.

“No, Bennett,” I retorted. “I was in love with you.” I clapped my hand over my mouth. Why had I just said that?

God. I hadn’t even said it to myself.

Bennett moved forward then, carefully, slowly, as if I might startle away. And he knelt in front of me and held out his hand for the slipper.

I passed it to him, still shocked at myself for what I had said. My eyes pricked with emotion. I had never felt this painful combination of exhilaration and misery with his brother Quinn. It was true that I had wanted to be around Quinn. And I had not been happy after I had gone away.

But Bennett was an entirely different order of magnitude. I just hadn’t recognized it for what it was.

Bennett eased my sandal off my foot, taking a moment to cup his hands over the bruised, reddened toes from my long day of rehearsals and a performance.

“Ballerinas’ feet aren’t pretty when they aren’t in their shoes,” I managed to get out.

He bent to press a kiss on my bare ankle. “It just shows the hard work it takes to appear so beautiful and effortless.”

The shoe glittered as he slid it over my foot. My heel rested perfectly against the back. It fit. Of course it did. Bennett would have had it no other way.

“I don’t have the match for it here,” I said.

“Isn’t that it?” he asked, gesturing at the chair where I had set down the bag Mom had carried. Beside it rested the other silver slipper.

Oh, Mom. She’d been in on this all along.

Bennett took the three strides to the chair and retrieved the shoe.

The second one fit just as perfectly.

I lifted my legs to admire the pair. “They are exquisite,” I said.

He sat beside me on the bed. “So is your dance.”

My eyes wouldn’t quite lift to his face. I felt exposed after what I had said to him. But he was here.

“Do you remember that night in the stables, the night you left for New York?” he asked.

I nodded.

“You told your horse that you loved Quinn and you always would.”

I had nothing to say to that. I ran my fingers along the swirl pattern on the bedspread. I felt small on the big bed.

“I thought about that night all the time,” Bennett said. “That innocent but powerful pronouncement. How you believed it with all your heart.”

I could see the details of his suit jacket, the handkerchief folded neatly in his breast pocket. The gleaming buttons. I still couldn’t look into his face.

“And from then on, I judged every girl I met by the measuring stick of you.”

My head snapped up at that. I had done the same thing. But with Quinn!

“And even when I asked Pamela to marry me, I knew somehow this wasn’t it. She didn’t feel the way you felt about Quinn. And neither did I. So what Quinn told you was probably true. I wasn’t enough. I reserved the most important part of myself and kept it from her.”

He was so close that I could turn my face and kiss him. And I almost did, wanting to erase the pain he must have felt after realizing he’d made a mistake and that he was going to hurt someone.

But I didn’t have to. Bennett was already there and brushed his lips against mine, gently, as if he was just trying to see if it were okay.

I relaxed into him, my body resting against his shoulder. He kept the kiss easy and light, although one hand came to touch my jaw.

After a moment, I pulled back. I had to know where he was with this, what had brought him here.

“What about now?” I asked. “Where is the most important part of yourself?”

He picked up my hand and pressed it with his against my chest. “It’s all right here.”

This time I leaned into him first, and there was no gentleness to this kiss. It was more than a meeting of our lips, but a collision of need.

His mouth sought mine, hungry, devouring.

I wanted closer to him, so close. During a dance, my body was often tucked against my partner, and often we moved like we were one person. I wanted this with Bennett. To be that incredibly together.

He pulled me up against him and I turned to face him on his lap, my legs wrapped around his waist.

I tugged at his stiff jacket, pushing it off his shoulders and tossing it away.

His shirt was soft and silky, so well made. I ran my hands along it, my skin humming with the touch of the smooth fabric.

I unbuttoned it with speed and agility. Despite all that had happened in his office that day, I had seen nothing of him.

I wanted to discover him.

He also wore a thin white shirt, too fine to be cotton. I felt the muscles of his chest beneath the coolness of it, but impatiently grasped the bottom and pulled it over his head.

Now I had his skin. I could not stop touching him, the bulging shoulders, the corded neck, the ripple of his abs.

When I reached for his belt, he broke the kiss, his breath ragged. No longer content to let me do all the work, he twisted us around until I was on my back on the bed. Before I realized what was happening, the wraparound skirt was gone and my shirt had flown across the room.

I was down to panties and the silver slippers.

Bennett moved over me, his hands and mouth everywhere, branding my skin. I arched my back as he brought a breast to his tongue. I could think of nothing, nothing but the need and pleasure sparking through me like an electric current.

“I have thought of this every day since I last saw you,” he said, his voice low. “I’m going to do everything that’s tortured me.”

He jerked my panties down. His fingers slid between my thighs and his mouth soon followed, anguished, determined, hot.

I lunged upward on the bed, increasing the pressure, my hands in his hair. I was so lost. I could barely breathe.

He pushed me up just like he had before, expertly drawing me into the passion he was feeling, until I couldn’t take it anymore.

“Bennett, please,” I begged.

He withdrew only his hand, still nipping at me with his mouth. I heard his shoes fall off the edge of the bed, and his pants slid to the floor with a jingle.

Then he was over me, face next to mine. “Condom?” he asked.

“Pill,” I said.

And he was inside me, splitting me wide so hard and fast that I cried out.

He braced on one elbow, his other hand on my cheek, watching me. “I want to hear you again,” he said. “I’ve heard that sound over and over again in my dreams.”

I held on to his waist, the rapid motion of him over me making the world tilt. He reached between us, teasing the nub as he worked, and there was no holding anything back. I called for him as the orgasm rocked me, tears coming down, the world exploding.

Bennett slid his arm beneath me and held me tightly against him. His body rocked into mine, pressing more deeply, moving with me more perfectly than any dance. Then he groaned next to my ear and held still, flooding me with warmth and wet.

I clutched at him, breathing hard, trying to right my vision and find the ground again.

My braids were tumbling down, and Bennett released the pins, then laid me back on the bed. He fell beside me and I turned to curl into him.

We stayed that way a while, letting our breathing slow. Outside our room, doors opened and closed. The elevator dinged. The world intruded.

“I see why you buy out entire floors,” I said finally.