Page 135 of The First Taste

I look up at him, my eyes going wide. “He is?”

He nods. “Yup. He just headed up to the platinum room with a bottle of our most expensive whiskey. He asked that you entertain him again.”

My heart gives a little flutter in my chest. “Oh! Well… I will head upstairs now.”

Sam holds up a black pair of pointe shoes. “He wants you to wear these.”

My cheeks flame scarlet as I pluck them from his grasp. “Thank you.”

I climb the stairs, my heart in my throat. A giddy little voice in the back of my head is babbling about how Mr. X is here to see me.

But no. He’s not.

I have to remember that he’s here to see Cerise, who’s more confident and self-assured than me by a mile. It’s a show I put on, a diversion.

No one is interested in plain little me and it’s best that I remember that.

Swallowing tightly, I climb the last step to the Platinum room. Lifting my chin and planting a demure smile on my face, I see Mr. X’s dark figure through the open doorway.

He’s a little more disheveled this time. His tie is loosened at his neck, his dark suit jacket is thrown aside casually. When he sees me, his eyes light up like twin sapphires, sparkling dangerously.

I step into the room, closing the door behind myself. “Hello, you.”

He smirks, his eyes dropping to take in my whole body. “I couldn’t stay away,” he husks out.

The deep timbre of his voice gives me goosebumps. I press a button near the door to turn on my music. It’s low and rhythmic, making me sway along.

I smile and bend down, making quick work of swapping my stripper heels for pointe shoes.

When I finish tying them on, I stand, giving them a test. I lie and then do an arabesque. The slippers fit perfectly. Because of the variability of sizes and shapes, it’s nearly impossible to guess what size slipper someone is by just looking at them.

“How did you know what size to get?” I ask, walking across the room in slow steps.

He smiles coolly. “You ask too many questions, beauty.”

I stop when I’m inches away from him, tossing my hair and posing. “Did you miss me?”

Mr. X leans forward, looking me right in the eye and running his fingertips oh so lightly up my knee toward my hip. I sink my top teeth into my bottom lip.

I should push his hand away just as I did to the boy downstairs. I should put up hard boundaries and stick to them, be firm like Mia taught me.

Yet I don’t. I just let him touch me, throwing back my head and swaying my hips to the music. He slides his hand around my back and gives me a tug.

I have to take a little of my power back. So I pluck his wrist up and drop it by his side. “You’re just supposed to sit back and enjoy this,” I say sweetly.

His eyes narrow on my face and his lips twist. But I shut him up by moving closer, putting my legs just inside his, and lifting my leg high over my head. His breath all leaves him in a soft grunt as his eyes travel up my body.

“Fuck,” he mouths quietly. He reaches down to adjust his cock, leaving his hand on his lap. “You’re killing me, Cerise.”

The rush of emotion that I feel when he tells me that is addictive. I let my leg come down and kneel, my knees going wide as I straddle his lap.

He grabs my ass and pulls me down, grinding his cock between us. His eyes darken with need.

“God damn,” he grits out.

I lean forward, placing my hands on either side of his chest and pushing him back. As I push him back, he lifts his hips, grinding against me again.

I know I’m not really meant to get turned on. But he does briefly brush his cock against my pussy in a way that makes me tingle. Without thinking I let out the softest moan, pressing my hips down as I gyrate against his lap.