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She’s so close, if she could stand on top of me, she would, and still, she huffs like a bull ready to be let out of its gate.
Unable to stop my buzz, I trail one finger up her leg, watching as she follows it slowly.
“Dance for me, Sofia.”
CHAPTER 20
FIA
“I’m not fucking dancing for you,” I practically growl, furious with Jett’s suggestion.
Furthermore, I’m even more pissed that my stupid body is betraying me with such a strong reaction. I’ve been here for hours and not once have I had a sliver of inspiration.
Sure, I’ve tried to place moves with certain lyrics, but nothing felt right.
Frankly, nothing has felt right in my body for some time.
Dance used to be my escape. The release of everything I’d wanted to let go of. The outlet that worked for me, even when I didn’t feel I needed one. Now, the second I beg for a little less pressure, nothing helps.
“Why not? Look at you. How else are you going to release all that anger?”
Jett’s smug stare travels up my body, along with the finger that’s burning through my clothes. With every inch, my skin feels like it’s going to shed a layer. As much as I hate that look on his face, hate the reminders that tell me things they shouldn’t from my one night with him, I can’t avoid how he lights me up inside.
The worst part is, he knows it’s exactly what I need right now.
“You’re in my way.”
Backpedaling to set my phone and bag back by the mirrors, I center myself in the middle of the dance floor. Determined to release some of this built-up aggression, this may be the only thing that can make me feel like I made progress tonight.
“Just pretend I’m not here.” His voice lowers in a dark way that I haven’t heard from him before. The sound of it peppers my skin with goosebumps. “Move,” I grit out, now pissed at his persistence.
“Not happening.”
Turning my back on the insufferable man in the middle of the room, I gather myself and quickly move to tap the screen of my phone.
Once I see what time it is, I can only credit the fucked-up decision I’m about to make to exhaustion. I’m feeding an animal that’s sleepless and hungry, but I can’t convince myself to stop.
Clicking replay on the singular track, I gently place it on the ground and mark a position facing away from Jett.
The slow intro blares through the speakers, and my body finally releases for the first time all night. Languid movements flow out of me. Moves from way deeper than I could’ve dug out on my own claw to the surface, fighting for the attention they deserve.
On the plane, I had pages of notes for what I envisioned for this dance.
With his eyes on me, my body isn’t doing any of that.
What’s coming out of me is sensual, passionate, and progressive with the music and my audience.
When the song builds and the chorus finally blossoms, the words “take it all back” echo through the room, and something unleashes in me.
Moving from my feet to the ground, my ass hits the floor, legs opening wide as my head lurches backwards. My hands keep my body propped up, while my head dangles between my shoulder blades.
I feel sweat pouring from my skin, my body heated and my breaths shortened by the man sitting above me.
Jett sits in the same position he’s been in, but his expression is lethal. His hands grip his kneecaps, his fingertips purple from his forceful grip.
Beyond the thumping of my heart and the volume of the speaker, I keep hearing deep groans that feel better than any applause I’ve ever received.
In place of Jett’s usual playful demeanor is the face of a man who does things with intention.
