Page 72 of When Hearts Ignite

I won’t fall for anyone, or any man.

I won’t let myself be hurt again.

Clearing my throat, I reply, “We were never ever really friends, Mr. Kingsley. Can a bird ever be friends with a fish in the ocean?”

I hear his sharp intake of breath behind me, followed by a deep shuddering exhale.

My heart constricts, and I regret my words instantly, knowing I’ve inadvertently wounded him.

“We’ll never end well,” I whisper into the darkness in front of me, more for myself than for him.

A few seconds of silence is punctuated only by the sounds of our heavy breathing, as we’re no doubt embroiled in our own emotional turmoil.

The swirling madness threatens to pull us back into its grasp.

“I won’t rest until I find out what you’re hiding.” His voice is molten steel, the blade sharp and deadly.

It helps. His anger keeps me tethered to the deep waters, where I should be instead of daydreaming about soaring in the skies.

“Well, I can’t help you there.”

I take a few more steps toward the dressing room, my pulse pounding in my ears.

“I bought the place for the night, Genevieve,” he spits out my stage name like it’s a dirty word. “Is this how you treat your paying customers?”

The agony in my chest flares and throbs, his cruel tone slashing fresh wounds in my chest. Yes. Be angry, Steven. It’s better for us this way. It’ll never end well.

Pulling my shoulders back, I paste a fake smile on my face and turn around, finding Steven’s intense gaze boring holes into me. A muscle tics in his jaw, his lips flattening in displeasure, very much like the day he ripped into his team in the conference room, his control barely held together by the thinnest string.

“Why, Mr. Kingsley, that was remiss of me. I forgot you were my paying customer. Please forgive me for my oversight.” I stride toward the control panel in the corner, my fingers shaking as I hit play on the random shuffle mode for the music.

Walking back toward him, my feet falter as I hear the first chords of “You’re My Stars” radiating from the surround-sound speakers, every sultry beat and aching melody wrapping around my heart in a firm grip.

My eyes flash to Steven, finding his gaze impenetrable, a bottomless pool of black. His own chest rises and falls rapidly. His hands are clenched tightly, fingers digging into the plush seating.

I remember how he stood up on the stage at Lunasia, slowly rolling up his sleeves, revealing his sexy, muscular arms. How I wanted to trace the veins there and to kiss the tension out of his frame. Resuming my walk, my heart kicking against my rib cage, I approach him and gently push his tense shoulders back so he’s settled on the sofa.

Slowly, I crawl on top of him, my legs straddling his, and I take my first inhale of his intoxicating scent, which rushes in my veins like a shot of adrenaline, giving me an instant high.

The song plays in the background and I sway my hips over his lap, my hands finding purchase on his shoulders. His nostrils flare and the inky darkness of his pupils completely overtakes the amber hues. His lips part and our breathing mingle in the mere inches between us, cloaking us in a sensual haze.

An aching heat climbs up my body, my skin feeling fevered as I press closer to his hips, rotating my ass in a way I know men love, and a moan escapes my lips as my chest grazes his.

Everything is different with him. The heavy-lidded gaze, the harsh pants of his breath, from any other man would make me cringe with revulsion, but with him…it makes me feel alive in a way I’ve never had before. I inch my dress up and settle my bottom firmly on his lap, my core clenching as his hard erection hits my clit. He hisses, his hands finding my waist.

I throw my head back and thrust my breasts toward his face, my nipples pebbling under the crystal pasties I had on tonight. Everything feels so heavy, so sensitive.

Belatedly, I realize his hands are on my body, and I wrench them away and whisper, my voice a throaty moan, “You can’t touch me. Those are the rules.”

Gritting his teeth, his nostrils flaring, he gives me a terse nod and fists his hands to the sides of his lap. I slowly unclasp the fastening behind my neck. I’ve never done a private lap dance for anyone before. It wasn’t something I was comfortable doing, but somehow, when I saw him sitting here, all his coiled energy and banked tension focused on me, I couldn’t stop myself. I want to drive him crazy with need, like he has ever since I met him.

You have all the power.

Camille’s words echo in my brain, and for the first time, I believe her.

What else could explain the fevered gaze in Steven’s eyes, the way his lips are parted in a half snarl, the way his muscles are locked and tense, like he’s using all his remaining restraint to stop himself from reaching for me?

The thought gives me another rush of euphoria and I slowly let the top of my dress fall to my waist as I lean back on his lap, my hips ghosting over his steel rod in a rhythm driving me wild. I can feel my breasts swaying, mere inches away from his face.

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