Page 37 of You Rock My World

DORIAN

We stumble into my dressing room and I push the door shut behind us, the thud cutting off the sounds of the ceremony.

Josie is hugging herself, her back turned as she scans the limited space.

In the vanity mirror, her face looks like she’s questioning every life choice that brought her here.

She’s maddeningly innocent and sexy as hell.

My pulse is loud in my ears. I should have thought this through.

I stay with my back pressed to the door, afraid of what I might do if I get close to her. “Sorry, no free alcohol back here.”

She lets out a breathy laugh, shaking her head as she turns to me. “As long as there’s a floor show, I’ll survive.”

I adore her sass, but I also enjoy calling her out on it. So I unhurriedly detach from the door and drag off my vest. Her cheeks flush, but she doesn’t avert her eyes.

Her gaze follows my hands as they slide over the fabric, her lips parting in anticipation. I take my time, savoring being the sole focus of her attention.

I shrug one shoulder off, then the other, letting the vest hang loosely. Her eyes are drinking me in with a thirst I recognize too well—because I share it.

“Have I earned a twenty yet?” I go back to her joke of last week when she told me I was only worth one-dollar bills.

“Keep going and I’ll slip you a hundred.”

I give her a slow, seductive smile and get closer, invading her personal space a little as I shake the vest off.

I catch it with a quick flick of my wrist, then break the tension with an exaggerated hip roll.

It should be ridiculous, but she soaks it in, biting her lip.

I twirl the garment over my head and throw it at her.

Josie catches it mid-air with a swift motion, her fingers curling around the luxurious fabric.

She holds it, studying the intricate embroidery and the texture of the velvet.

Then she does the hottest thing I’ve ever seen: she pulls it to her chest, inhales deeply, and closes her eyes, letting my scent wash over her.

Her lips curve into a subtle, guilty smile. Watching her savoring something so intimately connected to me sends a rush of blood through my veins. I imagine her wearing the vest with nothing else underneath.

She’d be perfect, she’d be mine.

Her eyes flutter open, and she catches me staring. I don’t even try to hide it. She knows. We both know. But she has to be the one to decide. I promised her I’d wait. And I will, for as long as it takes.

“I’ll be passing with a tip jar later.” I wink at her and break the moment by bending to open the small suitcase pushed against the wall. I grab a fresh T-shirt and a pair of jeans. “I’ll wash up real quick.”

Josie nods. She drapes my vest on the chair behind her and turns to examine the stack of water bottles on the floor, as if half a striptease was already too much for her.

I take that as my cue and move to the small sink in the corner to wash off the sweat from the performance.

The cool splash against my chest is an instant relief.

When I’m done washing, I grab a white towel and drag it across my skin.

I glance behind my shoulder as I dry off. Josie is standing stiffly, her back turned to me as she studies the ceiling.

I smirk. “You know, I’m not naked.”

“That’s great news,” she says, voice more high-pitched than usual. “I was admiring the, uh, structural integrity of this room.”

I chuckle, shaking my head as I toe off my boots and swap out my leather pants for jeans. Once I pull my clean T-shirt on, I walk up to her in my socks, dropping my hands onto her shoulders. She jolts at the contact, spinning so fast she collides with my chest.

She narrows her eyes. “Are you a panther?”

I blink. “Come again?”

“The way you move, silent on your feet.”

I dip my head. “I only took off my boots, hardly makes me a ninja. Besides, it’s not my fault you’re so easily startled.”

“Maybe I wouldn’t be so jumpy if you weren’t so…”

She trails off, circling a hand over me as if to conjure the right word.

I take a step closer, our bodies almost touching. “So…?” I tease.

She shakes her head.

“Josie—”

“I’m just saying,” she cuts me off. “It would help if you warned me before you pounced.”

“I didn’t realize I was pouncing.” I so was.

Her gaze dips to my chest, and I don’t know if she’s relieved or devastated it’s covered now.

She tugs at my T-shirt, assessing my work. “Well, you put it on straight. You’re good to go.”

“Not so fast.” I rest my hands on her shoulders, feeling the tension in her muscles, the rigid anticipation. I slide my palms down her arms, catching the edges of her cardigan. “We’ve got five minutes. And I have something to verify.”

Her eyes widen, and her usual confidence falters. “W-what?”

I don’t answer right away. Instead, I let my fingers linger on the soft fabric of her cardigan, taking my time as I ease it down her left shoulder.

My gaze locks onto the strap of her dress—and the complete lack of any other band under it.

Josie shivers, I can hear her heart pounding, or maybe it’s mine.

My fingertips brush her skin as I let the cardigan slide down her arm. Josie doesn’t stop me, but she doesn’t encourage me either. Are we both waiting to see who will blink first?

Her eyes are searching mine, looking for clues, for intentions. Whatever she finds, I know what I’m feeling—an unbearable need to erase the short distance and taste the uncertainty, turning it into something real.

I lean in, catching the faintest hint of her perfume. “Josie,” I croak, my voice betraying the storm inside me. “Are you really not wearing a bra?”

“My dress has no back.” Her pulse jumps at her throat. “So, no.”

A low, involuntary groan rumbles out of me, and before I can stop myself, I drop my forehead against hers. “Are you trying to kill me?”

Her lips part, and in the gentlest, most cruel voice, she whispers, “You’re still breathing.”

Barely.

I lift my head, taking in every detail of her. The cardigan is skewed now, slipping seductively off one arm, revealing the smooth, tantalizing expanse of her back in the mirror. The sight wrecks me.

Her skin taunts me, flawless and exposed.

I spin her so she’s facing the mirror as I keep standing behind her. “Can I see?”

She meets my gaze in the reflection, her throat working as she nods. I lower the other side of the cardigan and let it slip down her arms, easing it off her until it pools on the floor. She grips the back of the chair for support.

For a beat, I just stare. At the knots of her spine, at the shadows that curl and play along the curve of her back. My fingers hover near her skin, trembling with restraint, aching to touch. When I finally give in, it’s the barest graze of my knuckle down her spine.

Josie shudders under the touch, her whole body reacting as if I’ve sent a current through her. Her head tilts back, her eyes fluttering closed on a sigh.

I push her hair to the front and trace the path again, slower this time, feeling the contours of her vertebrae.

I lean in and inhale the scent of her shampoo, savoring the sound of her unsteady breathing.

My hands itch to explore more, to slide around her waist and pull her close, to feel her heart beat against my chest.

I want to kiss her nape, to taste her skin, and hear her gasp. I want to undo her, but if I start, I won’t be able to stop.

Her eyes open slowly, meeting mine in the mirror. They’re dark with desire, but also swirling with a thousand unspoken questions. She’s letting me call the shots—decide whether we leap or stay on solid ground. The trust in her gaze is unbearable.

Her lips part as if to speak, but no words come out.

Instead, she leans into me, her back pressing against my chest, her warmth seeping through my T-shirt.

I wrap my arms around her, holding her gently, as if she might break—or to stop me from breaking.

Her hands soon cover mine, and we stand like that, swaying slightly.

I close my eyes and let myself feel everything: the tickle of her hair against my chin, the rhythm of her breathing, the dizzying pull of her presence.

We can’t keep playing this game without tumbling over the precipice.

I won’t have the strength to whip us back if we go any further.

Tomorrow, I’m leaving. I’ll be gone for the best part of the next three months.

I don’t want to force a step forward when we’ll have to take three back.

“Josie.” I open my eyes, looking at her in the mirror. “I don’t want to rush this. Rush us.”

She nods, her head saying one thing while her eyes tell a different story. She wants this as badly as I do, and knowing that makes it even harder to hold back.

“We’ll have our time,” I promise. “I need you to be sure.”

Her fingers grip me tighter.

“I know. I just…”

Whatever she was going to say is lost as a voice crackles over the speaker system, announcing that the Best Rock award is coming up soon and that I need to be in the audience.

Josie trembles in my arms. If her skin is burning like mine, then we’re both seconds away from going up in smoke.

I squeeze her to absorb some of that heat, that tension, as if holding her tighter could somehow make it easier to walk away.

“Saved by the bell again,” I murmur against the side of her neck, pressing a featherlight kiss below her ear before stepping back.

I force myself to be responsible. “I’ll see you later? ”

She nods, still staring at me in the mirror, her lips parted.

I beeline for the door, but as I pull it open, she calls me back, “Dorian.”

I turn, expectant.

She has kept her back to me, only watching me through the mirror.

She tilts her head, her expression unreadable, then pants out, “You might want to put your shoes on before you go.”

I glance down at my socked feet.

I curse. She smirks.