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“No,” she snips, sassy as ever, but her voice is strained.

“If friends is all you want to be, I won’t touch you.”

Pushing back gently in my chair, I remove my hands from her, hating how my mood sours without her touch.

Fia’s head flicks over her shoulder, why? written between her brows.

“I never said I didn’t want it,” she clips, so fast like the words hurt coming out.

“You didn’t say you did either.”

“You didn’t ask.”

Silence takes our time, our eyes boring into one another.

“I am now.”

She waits for my question, and I love the challenge.

“Do you want me, Sofia baby?”

Nearing closer to her again, I use my pointer finger to paint small strokes against her leg until she tells me what she knows I want to hear.

Her lips fidget between her teeth, words itching to fall out, and her trying so damn hard not to allow them.

I tilt my head, eyebrow quirked.

“Yes.” Her answer is hardly loud enough to hear, even with no voices around us.

Closer, I let my hand go back to where it just was on her ass, and she pokes it toward me like she’d never thought I’d come back.

“I didn’t get that, sorry.”

“I said yes,” she practically growls, and I fucking love it.

Back on her skin, we fall into the same lustful motions that we were just practicing.

“No sex,” she says after a moment.

“Those are the rules, yes, but is that what you really want?”

Light strokes of my finger trace up and down her spine as my dream girl considers my plea, squirming and chasing my touch.

“It’s not a good idea.”

“Give me three reasons why,” I counter, knowing I can bypass any bullshit answer she’ll give me.

“I need to stay focused on dance.”

“It’ll only happen outside of your studio time.”

If I can control myself.

“There’s no point in doing something like this if it’s only going to happen a few times.”

If I have any say, it’ll never end.

“We can deal with that when the time comes,” I quickly reply.