“RETIRÉ DEVANT! I said retiré devant, Anabel. Jesus Christ.”
“I did.”
“Then why was your leg still on the floor, girl?”
The argument continued on between the director and a dancer, but as long as it wasn’t her who was fighting with him, she found it easy to tune the man out.
Liliana fell from her position, thankful that at the moment, Gordo’s anger wasn’t on her. She felt bad for Anabel, though, because the girl had been in the correct move, and position. It didn’t matter—they were working on seven hours, and at the six-hour mark was about the time when Gordo’s patience ran thin when it came to training and rehearsals.
He couldn’t possibly have his eyes on twenty dancers at once, but he certainly thought he could. And thus, when his frustration or irritation with anything spilled over, he liked to take it out on the dancers.
Regardless if this was just another one of Gordo’s outbursts, or if the girl was actually missing her moves, Liliana was grateful for the break. It allowed her the chance to catch her breath, grab the towel hanging over the barre along the wall of mirrors, and wipe her face, neck, and shoulders down.
She was taking in her tired reflection when a familiar man stepped into the entrance of the studio. Her father was formidable on his good days—tall, dark, and brooding. Her mother liked to say Lucian could silence someone with nothing more than a glance in their direction, and a smart person could guess his mood just based on how dark the hazel of his eyes were on any given day.
Liliana knew it was all true.
She also knew that he was her dad. Lucian never scared her, and he certainly didn’t intimidate her, either. How could he when he was the same man who used to sing her a special bedtime song he made up just for her, or all the tea parties he joined in on when she was a little girl?
He was her dad.
That’s all she saw.
“Excuse me, but you can’t be in here,” Gordo said.
Lucian didn’t even grace the director with his attention as his gaze finally landed on Liliana across the studio. He pointed a single finger at her, and then hooked it as if to silently demand she, move.
Liliana didn’t know what was up, but a spike of dread settled hard and fast in her gut. Her father never showed up to her dance studio because, in a way, this was where she worked. She was here for that, and not for anything else. He didn’t get in the way of that kind of thing.
“I’ll be just a sec,” Liliana told Gordo.
As she was passing the director by, the man replied, “Tell your guest, he is not welcomed in my studio again! I won’t have these sorts of distractions for my dancers, Liliana!”
“Oh, would you shut up already?” Lucian barked from the doorway. “Jesus Christ, man, everybody can hear you yelling from the goddamn street. They dance for you, but they’re not your property. Treat them like humans, huh?”
“Dad,” Liliana hissed.
She pushed Lucian out of the doorway—although really, she just had to press her hands against his chest to make him move out of the way. It wasn’t like he put up any big fight to move, or anything.
Thank God.
“Don’t do that,” Liliana told her father.
“He sounds like a jackass.”
Liliana almost rolled her eyes, but settled on nodding instead. “Yeah, he kind of is.”
Behind her, she heard Gordo call out, “All right, take fifteen, but then get back to it. And Trent, I swear if I see you outside smoking again, I will cut your fucking lungs out.”
Lucian scoffed. “Right. That man is definitely capable of cutting something out of someone else. I’m sure.”
“Did you need something—or did something happen?”
Liliana figured the quicker she got her father onto the topic of why he showed up at the studio, the quicker she could get back to work, and be done for the weekend. It was Sunday, and she was looking forward to the next week for more reasons than she cared to explain.
A charity dance, for one.
And Joe, for two.
Her phone had been silent for the day, but he promised he would do something on Monday. Well, she already had something in mind, but he wasn’t exactly here yet to make the offer, so …
Lucian scowled at the dancers coming out of the studio. “Is there somewhere we could chat for a little bit—privately?”
Liliana gave her father a look. “Bathrooms, and locker rooms. A storage closet. Gordo’s office—don’t even ask, no one is allowed inside. And another studio. Take your pick.”
“Studio.”
Fine by her.
Liliana led the way, and her father followed close behind silently. Soon, they were in the studio at the end of the hall, but like with the other one, there was no door to close to give them privacy. It was just an illusion.
“Now, will you answer me?” Liliana asked. “Did something happen, or—”
“Why didn’t you tell me that Rich Earl approached you a while back during opening night of The Sleeping Beauty?”
Liliana blinked.
Her throat tightened.
Her chest ached.
She felt the shake in her fingers, and the tremor that worked its way up her spine at just hearing the man’s name spoken out loud. It made her sick to her stomach, and her head feel a little too light. A fear landed dangerously hard in her stomach—like a balling, tight knot there that she couldn’t get out no matter how hard she tried.
Yeah …
That’s what Rich’s name invoked.
Liliana had taken great pains to teach herself not to react outwardly, though. Especially not when it came to Rich fucking Earl. The man did a lot of things, but she refused to let him terrify her for one more fucking minute.
What he had done once was enough.
No more.
“Sorry,” Lucian murmured quickly. “I didn’t mean—”
Shit.
“I thought I was getting better at it.”
Her father cocked a brow. “Pardon?”
“Hiding how he … bothers me,” she said dumbly.
Lucian shook his head, and wrapped an arm around her shoulder. In a blink, she found herself dragged close into her father’s comforting, warm embrace. It was safe there—nothing ever hurt her there.
Just like she was a girl again.
Resting his chin on the top of her head, Lucian said, “You do hide it well, and that’s admirable. But I’m also your father, Liliana, and I can see when things are affecting you in a bad way. Although, I’m sure it pissed him off like nothing else that he didn’t get a reaction out of you when he approached you. We both know how men like him enjoy seeing the hell they cause.”
Liliana swallowed the ball of emotions in her throat. “Maybe—I don’t know. I just wanted him to get the fuck away.”
“But why didn’t you tell me?”
“There was nothing to tell. He hasn’t approached me since, and Gordo was made aware that he shouldn’t be allowed back into any showings. What else can I do, Daddy?”
“Tell me.”
The pain in her father’s voice mixed heavily with his anger. Liliana knew the anger wasn’t for her, but rather, at a man who had not yet gotten what he deserved for the things he did.
“And what would you do?” Liliana asked. “You tried to do something once, and it—”
“This time is not the same.”
Liliana stiffened, and glanced up at her dad. “What does that mean—what are you doing now?”
Lucian shook his head. “It’s not for you to worry about.”
“I think maybe—”
“If he approaches you again, I need to know.”
“How did you know this time?”
“Someone who saw what went down from afar, I suppose.”
Liliana only struggled for a couple of seconds to put together who exactly that might be. There was, after all, only one person she knew who had been at the show that night. Only one person who would have contact with her father.
Joe.
But why would he be giving Lucian information?
And how much did he know about Rich?
“You have to tell me if this happens again—understood?” Lucian asked.
Liliana nodded. “Yeah, I got it.”
Now, though, she had more questions than answers.
On her back staring up at the ceiling of her studio apartment, Liliana heard nothing but the lyrics of her favorite artist in her ears coming through the earbuds. A warm soak in Epsom salt kept her feet from aching too much, and the music let her relax enough not to care about the slight stinging in her toes.
Nobody said being a ballerina was easy.
Nobody said they didn’t sacrifice for it.
Closing her eyes, Liliana mellowed out in the sounds of the artist belting out the final chords of a song about a woman missing out on a man she never even got to know. How strangely appropriate that felt for her.
In more ways than one …
Once the song was over, she tugged the earbuds out, and released a hard sigh. She moved her arm from where it had been resting over her eyes, and damn near screamed at the sight of the man standing right beside her.
The shout died in her throat.
But only because it was Joe.
Still, her fucking heart pounded.
“Jesus Christ, you can’t make some noise?” Liliana demanded.
Amusement danced in Joe’s gaze as he looked her over. “I came to see you earlier than I said I would, and you want to fault me for it?”
He looked so fucking smug.
She glared.
A little.
“How did you even get in here, Joe?”
“I knocked several times.”
“That’s not what I asked,” she pointed out, “and I was listening to music.”
“You have a stereo system. Put it through the speakers.”
Liliana shrugged as well as she could on the floor. “Sometimes, I need music delivered right to the brain, or as close as I can get to it.”
Joe tipped his head to the side. “What are you doing down there, anyway?”
“Nice deflection on not telling me how you got inside my apartment.”
“I picked the lock because I got worried. Now, what are you doing?”
“Relaxing.”
“That doesn’t look very relaxing.”
“Something flat and hard against my stiff back, and a good soak for my feet?” Liliana sighed happily. “It’s perfect.”
“I will take your word for it.”
Liliana side-eyed Joe, and took in the suit and tie he wore. Usually, he was in a leather jacket, and jeans. This was new.
She liked it.
A lot.
“Why the attire?” she asked.
Joe dropped down on the floor beside her—gracefully, despite his large size. It was almost cute, but she didn’t think he would appreciate her telling him that. “Came over here right after I finished something else. Didn’t take the time to change.”
Her heart stuttered.
She grinned.
“What, couldn’t wait to see me, or something?”
Liliana was only half-teasing.
A part of her wanted him to say—
“Yes, exactly that,” Joe murmured.
She abused her bottom lip with her teeth, trying to discern how all of this made her feel. A little light-headed, but not in a bad way. Overwhelmed, definitely.
“I’m not really sure what to do with you, Joe Rossi.”
He flashed his teeth in a sinful smile. “Yeah, me either.”
“So, where were you, anyway?”
“Out of town.”
He offered nothing else.
Liliana chose not to push. “I should warn you, I don’t plan on doing very damn much tonight. I was on my feet for nine hours in rehearsals, and I don’t plan on being on them any more today.”
Joe didn’t bat an eye at her statement. “I didn’t come over to do something. I came to see you, sweetheart.”
“Oh … well, okay.”
“Are you nearly finished?”
“With what?”
Joe gestured at the extra-large plastic tub she was using to soak her feet in hot water, and Epsom salt. “This.”
“Yeah, just let me dry off.”
Liliana moved to sit up, and grab the small towel she had set aside for when she was done. Joe was a little quicker than her, and his large hand wrapped around her left ankle with a soft touch. He grabbed the towel with his other hand, and lifted her foot from the warm water.
Her immediate reaction when someone might touch her feet or see the abuse they suffered was to pull away, and hide them.
And yet, she just … didn’t.
Joe was silent as he dried her feet with careful pats of the towel, and grew still as his fingertips grazed over her bruised toes, split skin, and cracked toenails. The discoloration and swelling in her feet could be better or worse depending on how much dancing she had been doing, or other factors.
It wasn’t a pretty sight.
Truer words had never been spoken. Liliana was sure she wouldn’t hear anything more honest than that for a long while.
“Hazard of the job,” she replied, glancing at her feet.
Silently, he moved her feet into his lap with careful hands, and then he was reaching for her, too. His fingers locked tight around hers before he pulled her up from the prone position, so she could sit across from him.
“I think I might have missed you since the last time you were here,” she admitted.
Joe laughed. “You think?”
“It’s still up for debate.”
“Oh, I think I could remind you of exactly why you missed me, Tesoro.”
The suggestive dip in his tone couldn’t be missed. Liliana was all too willing to indulge his suggestion, too.
“Maybe you should do that, then,” she whispered.
Joe cocked a brow, and glanced up from her feet that he had been rubbing soft circles into. The blues of his eyes pierced into hers, and instantly, a shot of heat curled deliciously in her stomach. Oh, good things were about to come from this man.
She knew it.
He didn’t disappoint, either.
Liliana found herself leaning back on her arms when Joe suddenly loomed over her in the blink of an eye. His gaze drifted over her face, and lingered on her lips just long enough to make her breath catch. Then, he kissed her. A hard, hot kiss that spoke of just how much he might have been missing her, too, without actually saying the words.
Not that she minded.
This was good, too.
So good.
Joe’s fist clenched into Liliana’s loose T-shirt, and he pulled her up higher, and then into his lap once they were both sitting. She heard something hit the tub of water, and the splash as liquid spilled to the hardwood floor. She really couldn’t find it in herself to care that she was going to have a mess to clean.
All she really cared about in those moments were the way Joe had locked her legs around his waist in such a way that his erection dug into her core. With every shift of her hips, the length of his cock pressed against her a little more.
Teasing …
Promising …
One of his hands slipped up her shirt to palm her naked breast beneath, and tweak her hardened nipple with his fingertips. The other slid between her thighs, and snaked up the leg of her small, cotton sleep shorts. Almost right where she wanted him.
“These clothes are making things easy on me, so thanks,” he muttered against her cheek.
Liliana laughed, but it quickly melted into a low moan when two of his fingers slipped between her folds. Instead of filling her pussy with his fingers, he stroked her slit, and then dragged the wetness he found there up to her clit. Pressing small, fast circles into her clit, he worked her body into a fast fever, and whispered dirty words to her all the while.
His lips moved against her throat, and then along her jaw. His words never stopped, not even when she started to shake, and got a little close to the cliff he was dragging her to. Jesus. She couldn’t wait to jump off it.
“Aren’t you going to come for me?”
“Please.”
Joe chuckled. “You like this, don’t you? A little greedy, I think.”
To say the least.
He pulled back enough to catch the way her mouth fell open as the orgasm started to creep in on her. And then he caught her bottom lip between his teeth, and nipped just hard enough to send her flying over the edge with a broken whine.
“Joe.”
“There it is,” she heard him whisper. “Now fucking give me the rest, too.”
She hadn’t even finished catching her breath before he had pulled her shirt up over her head, and tossed it somewhere to the side. His jacket, tie, and shirt quickly followed the same path.
Liliana found herself picked up from the floor, but her legs still stayed tight around Joe’s waist.
“And don’t even try to tell me you don’t have the balance,” she heard him say.
What?
“Show me how well you can stretch, ballerina.”
Liliana blinked when her bare feet were set back down on the floor. She realized then that he had brought her over to her barre against the windows. Without coverings, although her place was dark with the lights turned off, just about anyone could probably see at least her naked silhouette if they stared hard enough.
“Joe,” she said in a whine, glancing back at him.
He shook his head, grinned, and took a step back. “Show me—and take off those shorts, too.”
A heat climbed up Liliana’s throat. She was sure her cheeks turned red with the color, too.
Joe didn’t miss it. “Don’t get shy on me, sweetheart.”
Liliana swallowed hard, and glanced out the windows again. Just as quickly, her embarrassment washed away when she turned back to see Joe discarding the rest of his clothes. He snatched a condom from his pants, and made quick work of sliding the latex down his cock. Only he could make the sight of putting on a condom sexy.
Fucking hell.
Naked, with nothing but his black rosary hanging around his throat, and the backdrop of her wall of paintings behind him, he looked like every inch of sin.
Delicious.
Dangerous.
And perfect.
He would test the morals of a nun.
Fisting his length, he flashed his teeth in that teasing way, saying, “Stretch for me.”
If that’s what he wanted …
How could she say no?
Liliana was quick to drop those shorts of hers, and didn’t miss the way Joe’s gaze drifted down to her bare sex. She had to keep her eyes on just about anything but him in order to focus on at least doing what he told her to do.
She remembered what he said that first time.
Listen.
Listening got her everything from Joe.
Liliana went through the motions of stretching against the barre—her arms, core, and back. Nothing too strenuous. It was only once she lifted her left leg high to lay flat against the bar, and bent her entire body to the right, that a sound from Joe made her hesitate.
Or shit … anticipate.
A grunt, maybe.
Or it could have been a groan.
Either way, it was by far one of the sexiest sounds she had ever heard in her life. Like he hadn’t even been able to contain it coming out of his mouth.
“Do you know how fucking good you look like that?”
Jesus.
Liliana twisted just enough to see Joe had come to stand right behind her, and he’d barely made a noise.
“I’m going to get you a bell to wear,” she told him.
“Fuck the bell.” Joe’s gaze darkened, and his hand finally left his cock, then. He stroked the curve of her back, and down over her ass. His touch left her skin on fire, and shiver racing through her blood. “Keep hold of the bar, Tesoro.”
Liliana laughed. “And don’t drop my leg?”
“Don’t even fucking think about it.”
He fitted his body in behind hers, and slid into her pussy with one long, deep thrust. The force was enough to send her flying up on her tiptoes with a gasp. The head of his cock hit something wonderful inside her cunt, and she wanted him to repeat it.
“Again,” she demanded.
Joe chuckled darkly, and his hand pressed hard into her lower back. “Liked that, did you? Fuck, this is a nice sight. I’ve got the best view of your cunt swallowing my cock, babe. You’re so damn wet—soaking me to my balls.”
His filthy words were a drug.
She wanted more of them.
And more of him.
“Do it again, Joe.”
Liliana barely got her demand out before he was pounding into her. A hard, brutal rhythm that sent her resting back over the barre, making her hold on for dear life. But damn, it was good, too. So fucking good.
He fucked her fast—relentlessly.
He fucked her wild—breathlessly.
She couldn’t think beyond the sounds of her own moans, the way his fingers felt digging into her skin hard enough to leave marks behind, and the noise their bodies made every time they met.
And Joe …
God, Joe.
Take my cock, Liliana.
Give me that pussy, girl.
And her personal favorite … Don’t you want my cum, ballerina?
She was a shaking, breathless mess against the barre after her third orgasm. And it was only then that Joe finally pulled out of her body, and yanked her leg down. She felt the loss of him instantly, but the deep pulsing between her legs only made her sigh.
Joe put her on her knees.
The condom was gone, then.
“Get my cum, ballerina,” he told her, “and don’t waste a fucking drop.”
Yes, please.
She sucked him off, and smiled at the sight of him losing control above her. So, maybe nothing was hotter than that.
Except the sight of him coming.
And the taste of him sliding down her throat.
Yeah, that was pretty good, too.
Taking a deep breath, and trying to regain her bearings, Liliana leaned back on her heels, and used her hands to hold onto the barre as she stared up at Joe. “About tomorrow—you did say we could do something Monday, right?”
Joe cleared his throat, but a huskiness still remained when he replied, “Depends on what it is, really.”
Liliana tried not to take that personally.
It was a little hard when his cock was still semi-hard, and this close to her face. It was even more difficult because she could still taste his cum on her tongue.
“There’s a charity event—I was hoping you’d come with me,” she whispered.
Joe glanced down at her.
Liliana knew his answer before he even said it.
It still fucking sucked.
“I can’t, Liliana.”
Not, I would, but …
Not even, It’s not my scene, sorry.
No.
Just an, I can’t.
It shouldn’t have felt like a rejection, but it still kind of did. Mostly because she didn’t know what in the hell the deal was with this man, or what he was trying to do with her. But she didn’t like the way this left her feeling a little too used.
No woman wanted to feel used.
“So, is this all we’re doing, then?” she asked him. “We fuck, and meet up at night, or whatever. Nothing else, though?”
Joe’s brow knotted together. “I didn’t say—”
No, she got it.
“Thanks for letting me know, Joe.”