Page 9 of Power Play

“I got injured. Pretty badly,” I answer. “It ended any chance of me going professional.”

“What happened?” Rex asks, surprising me again with his curiosity. He has a look in his eye I can’t quite discern, but I can tell he’s interested in hearing my answer.

“I tore my Achilles the week before a performance, which happened to be tryouts for Juilliard. After that, I had surgery, but never quite got my full range of motion back. I can still dance, but not like I used to.”

“Oh.”

That’s all he says. “Oh.” Like I didn’t just pour out my sob story to him. What a prick.

Trevor acts surprisingly quick, picking up on the tension building between us.

“Harris, don’t I still owe you a birthday present?” he shouts down to the table.

“Yeah, we were supposed to go to Hawaii.”

“Well, here, I’ll buy you your first dance tonight. Miss Sawyer is going to help us out,” Trevor says with a smile.

Harris looks alarmed for a moment, watching Rex, but he must see Trevor’s smirk because he goes along with it.

“I get to take Miss Sawyer’s lap dance virginity?” Harris asks with a smile. “Come over here then. Come to daddy.”

The little shit has the audacity to wink directly at Rex.

Rex looks like he’s about to throttle one of them. His knuckles are white from how tight he’s gripping his glass.

Realizing he’s not going to say anything, I start to walk towards Harris, who looks just as confused by Rex’s reaction as I am. It’s obvious he is somewhat interested, but not enough to follow through.

“Stop,” he growls, with more passion than I’ve heard from him so far.

I freeze. Refusing to move, to blink, to even breathe. In fact, I don’t think any of us are breathing right now.

“Come here. Now.”

I’m not sure who invaded my body, or when I started listening to commands, but my body obeys that man like I’m in the military. Before I know it, I’m standing in front of him, his legs spread out, but not enough that I can’t straddle him.

“Come. Closer,” he growls, gesturing for me to get on top of him.

I have no idea what I’m doing as my legs straddle his, and he must notice this because he whispers something only I can hear.

“Closer,” he says gruffly, like he hasn’t used his voice all day.

Pulling me towards him, he leans in closely before whispering in my ear again, “I know this is your first time, so there is no way I am letting Dirty fucking Harry get ahold of you. Now, I’m going to touch you, as long as you’re okay with that?”

Too nervous to respond with words, I nod my head yes.

“Use your words, baby girl.”

“Yes,” I respond, shocked by how breathless I sound.

Something well past excitement flashes in his eyes, but again, I can’t decipher it. It’s fleeting, hidden under his broody, prickly exterior, but there’s a heat in his eyes. It’s like he wants this. Wants me.

Without another word, Rex moves his hands from his side up to my legs, slowly gliding along my skin until he reaches my hips. Every place his fingers touch is on fire, like electricity is flowing between us.

Swallowing roughly, I look down to where he’s gripping my hips, his knuckles white from his intense hold. If I didn’t know any better, I would say he’s close to losing control, but what he’ll do next is still a mystery.

“Sit.”

“But,” I start trying to explain how this is a horrible idea, but his demands leave very little room for debate. If I sit on his lap, there’s no chance he’s not going to feel how turned on I am or that I won’t feel his arousal.

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