“When they know my father and I have no graceful way to decline, I do. And where did you learn to dance?”
“My cousin liked to play cotillion when she was five or six, even though there was no way in hell she’d ever be going to one because we were all dirt poor. She never would’ve even heard of cotillion if not for Old Lady Able across the street telling stories about how her mama had gone to one. She had these footprint sheets showing the steps, and tapes of Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers, and told my cousin she needed to learn like a proper young lady. I got roped into being her partner. I was all of eight or nine at the time. One whole summer, my cousin wanted to practice every day.”
I pictured a young boy, probably lanky and tall, if Rix’s height was any indication, stepping from footprint to footprint with a small girl. It was an endearing image.
“Guess there are some things you just don’t forget. Can’t say I haven’t used it to my advantage before.”
His last comment got my attention. “You like to take the ladies dancing? Wow them with your skills?”
“Don’t need to wow them with my dancing skills. You know the others are better.”
This entire moment was surreal. We shouldn’t be having this conversation. We shouldn’t be dancing to this song. He shouldn’t even be here. And yet, I wouldn’t trade this moment—even with the possible consequences—for anything. Every glimpse into Rix’s past was precious.
He spun me into another turn that took us right to the doorway, and pulled me out of the room.
“What—”
Rix didn’t respond, just crossed the lobby and stepped around a white curtain blocking one of the few sections closed for tonight’s event. It was a sign of how much I’d changed that I followed him without question or hesitation.
The room was lit only by the glow coming through the white curtain, and was empty of people. Scaffolding and white sheeting indicated this was the section currently being remodeled, and the lack of art on the wall confirmed my assumption. My mother had mentioned it before.
But thoughts of my mother evaporated when Rix’s hand slid through the slit in the back of my dress and he palmed my ass.
“Fuck. I knew you’d be wearing a thong with this.”
“I almost wore nothing under it.”
“Not unless you’re with me.” His words were pure alpha decree.
I could have pretended otherwise, but instead I went for the truth. “Why do you think I didn’t?”
Rix groaned and I shifted, already wet and eager for him to touch me. We could hear the band playing from rooms away and the sound of the party, but it didn’t occur to me to care. When he touched me, I lost all sense of reason.
His lips found mine, tasting, taking, spurring me on. Heat bloomed over my entire body. I wanted him. Now. Here.
Insanity. But I didn’t care. The urgency wasn’t only in me.
Rix pulled away and spoke low. “Turn around and grab the scaffolding, duchess. Bend forward.”
The newly found scandalous side of me reveled in his order. I gave no thought to anything beyond him, his touch, and how much I wanted him.
I turned and grabbed the scaffolding. “Hurry,” I said over my shoulder. My voice was barely a whisper.
“You gonna be able to stay quiet?”
Quiet? I’d have to be. I had no choice. But the reminder was a forbidden thrill of what we were doing.
Who am I?
A whole new woman. One who wasn’t afraid to push boundaries and take chances and live. And I really liked the new me.
Rix pushed my dress up, the slit up the back making access easier. Who knew I’d picked the perfect dress for tonight? His touch sent prickles of sensation across my skin as he slid my feet apart and tugged my panties to the side.
Wasting no time, Rix plunged one finger inside and groaned.
“Always ready for me. Fucking love that.”
I pressed back against him, loving it just as much. His finger slid out, swirled around my clit, and then disappeared. The quiet clink of a belt buckle met my ears, followed by the hiss of a zipper.
I can’t believe I’m doing this. But there’s no way I’m stopping.
The insanity of the moment ceased to matter when Rix pressed inside, filling me completely. A moan rose to my lips, but I bit it back.
Quiet. Be quiet.
As much as the thought of potentially getting caught was adding a forbidden edge to the pleasure thrumming through my body, I didn’t actually want to get caught. So I stayed quiet.
Rix shoved my dress further up, reaching around to cover my clit with his fingers. In this position, he hit my G-spot with every thrust, and there was no way I’d be able to hold on. My orgasm was already building and Rix increased his pace, silent as he pushed me to the edge.
I bit down on my bottom lip hard enough to sting as the pleasure overwhelmed me. I wanted to scream. Instead, I fractured from the inside out, shaking as the orgasm rocked through me. My body clenched down on his, and Rix’s low groan signaled that he was close. A few more thrusts and he stilled.