Falling for Heaven (Four Winds)

chapter 21



When Heather awoke, she looked over at Uri. He was hopelessly beautiful. She ached when she looked at him, his blond hair falling over his forehead, his large, full mouth opened slightly in sleep. Looking at him now, she could hardly reconcile the angelic beauty with the fierce warrior she'd seen last night. She remembered the hate and fear in his eyes and the strength radiating from his form, as she watched him sleep in her bed, healing his wounds.

Tentatively, she leaned over him and kissed him softly on his mouth, reminding herself of the feel of his lips. Warm and soft. Leaning back, she remembered the kiss they had shared in the park, when he had told her about God’s offer.

The truth was, Heather had fallen in love with Uri the first time she had danced for him.

Speaking of dancing, she had to get to work. She had slept longer than she realized, and needed to get into the shower. Uri was still asleep, so she left a note telling him to make himself comfortable and that she would be home as soon as she could after work. She wanted to talk to him.

Heather had been at the club a few hours and was up on the stage for her second performance, when she saw Uri walk over to a spot in front of the stage to watch her. She was surprised to see him, thinking that he would wait for her to come home after she finished tonight.

He looked awful. His ordinary healthy complexion was waxy and gray. Dark shadows colored the skin under his eyes, which looked at her with anxiety. She tried to convey the question “Are you okay?” to him silently and was rewarded with a slight shake of his head.

After her dance number, she went straight to him.

“Can we go someplace private?” He asked her with a desperate tone in his voice.

“Sure, give me a minute, let me talk to Mama.” She replied, gently squeezing his uninjured shoulder.

When she found Mama in the back room, she asked, “I have a client who wants a private room. Is there one available?”

Mama turned to look at her squarely, her mouth turned down at the corners. “Heaven, I know who it is, and if he’s a client, I’ll eat my shoes. You watch yourself, girl. You’ve been pretty good the entire time you’ve been here. Now isn’t the time to start breaking the rules.”

“Yes, Mama.”

She looked at Heaven, sadness in her eyes and said, "You've been a wonderful dancer, Heather." The rare use of her given name brought Heather up short.

"Are you firing me?"

"No, I can tell when I'm about to lose a girl, and I'll be sorry to lose you. But you'll go on to better things than this. I just know it."

Heather was dumbstruck; she didn't have a clue what to say.

“Room six.” Mama said simply and turned her back to Heather.

“Thank you, Mama.”

Heather led Uri by the hand to the nicest private room in the place. It was larger than the rest and had a couch in addition to a stool. It was generally used for high rollers, or bachelor parties, times when there would be more than one girl in the room with the men.

“I don’t know what’s happening to me.” He impulsively clutched her to him, holding her close. “I hurt. I can’t keep my eyes open. I’m hungry, I think…I don’t know. I’ve never felt any of this before.” He was still holding her, talking into her hair. “I’m so heavy…I ache…inside…"

She didn’t know what to say to him. Her first impulse was to comfort him, somehow, so she just held him around his neck, pulling him closer. She stroked his broad shoulders and back, trying not to feel his rippling muscles as his arms continued clutching her.

“Heather…”

She looked up at him, his arctic blue eyes intimately close to hers. “What, Uri?” She was suddenly breathless, her voice was unrecognizable.

As was his. “Dance for me. Please?”

“Sure.” She stepped away from him, and he sat on the couch. “Are you going to hum again?” She had loved showing him her ballet, even though she hadn’t danced like that in years. It wore her out, but she was ready to do it for him again.

“No. Dance…regularly. The way you do for your…customers.”

She swallowed hard. “Okay.”

A Christina Aguilera song came over the loudspeakers, and Heather began to dance for Uri. Somehow, tonight was different. She put feelings into her dancing that she hadn’t put in since she first started doing it, before it got automated for her. Trying to convey all of her thoughts about Uri into her movements, she danced. She danced for him and him alone.

Watching his eyes, she touched herself, as she writhed around him, showing him her desire for him, as his eyes darkened. She could almost feel his gaze on her, scorching her with heat, as she dropped to the floor, and crawled away, slowly, showing him her backside. When she turned and pranced back, she could see that the view had brought a panicky look to his darkened eyes, as the bulge in his pants grew. She began rubbing her hands against Uri’s solid chest, transmitting her need for fulfillment with him, as she wriggled her hips. Her movements weren't any different than for other clients, but Heather felt something dancing for Uri that she didn't feel with the others. Desire. Longing. Love.

Turning her back to him, she leaned against his chest, rubbing her bottom against the hard ridge of his erection.

Abruptly, he groaned, and he reached for her waist. Stroking her skin, he whispered raggedly into her ear, “What are you doing to me, Heather?” He sounded close to tears, so she turned to look at him.

Straddling his lap, she gently nibbled his earlobe before answering, “I’m dancing for you, Uri.” Then she pulled back a little to see his reaction.

It wasn’t good.

He was sweating and flushed with desire. Where most men would look at her sheepishly, though, Uri’s face was filled with horror. Heather realized then, that he’d never felt lust before and didn’t know what to do with it. She sympathized with him but didn’t know what to do either.

“What do you want me to do, Uri?” She asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

He didn’t answer, but his hands went to the back of her head and pulled her face to his for a crushing kiss.

It wasn’t like the kiss from the other night, which was sweet and tentative. This kiss was desperate. His tongue swept into her mouth, then retreated. So, Heather used her tongue, teasing his teeth, until his tongue swept back into her mouth, tasting her again. She sucked on his bottom lip, eliciting a frantic moan from him.

His hands tangled in her hair, drawing her closer. Heat infused Heather, the white-hot heat she'd become accustomed to, radiated between them, and she lost herself to the sensations, the smells, the feel of Uri.

Heather almost couldn’t stop herself, she ground her nearly naked pelvis against the fly of his jeans, moaning in response to his kisses, feeling a heat build in her core. His hands stroked her back, running down to her butt, squeezing the bare cheeks, kneading them.

“Oh…I have to…” Uri panted.

“What?” Heather moaned into his mouth.

“Stop. I don’t want this.”

The words were like a bucket of cold water dumped on her. Heather jumped up, and grabbed for her robe.

“I’m sorry, Uri. I thought you did.” She turned to leave the room.

“No. Don’t go. It’s not that.” …” He grabbed at her arm, flinching at the flare of heat that she realized he must feel too. “I do…I don’t know…” He raked his hand through his hair, wretchedly.

“Then what is it?”

“I just don’t know how to deal with this…” He waved his hands airily at himself. “All this stuff.” Looking at her, anxiously, he pleaded. ‘Please understand, Heather…this isn’t because of you. Well, it is because of you.” He dropped his head. “I don’t know what to do now.”

Heather wanted to hug him but didn’t dare touch him again. Touching him set her skin on fire, and she didn’t know if she could hold back, and he certainly wasn’t ready for it. “Go home. I’ll call you tonight. Okay?” She took a tentative step toward him. “Uri?” He looked at her, and the pain in his eyes tore at her. “Eat something. That’ll make you fell a little better. Stop by Burger King on the way home and get a whopper. You’ll like it. I promise.” She winked at him, before motioning towards the door for him to leave.

With a long backward glance and a supremely regretful look, he left. Heather went to finish her shift. She was only able to make it through by remembering his scorching gaze on her body as she danced for him.