Page 2 of Cruel Steps

I’d been so consumed by his eyes that I hadn’t looked at the rest of him. He was tall and muscular, and every head turned when he passed. His dark hair was longer on top, just messy enough to fall into his eyes, and made his stare all the more brooding.

It wasn’t just that he was good looking that had people staring, but his confidence. It oozed out of him like a mating call, and my nipples pebbled with each inch he grew nearer. This guy—no, man—was someone who knew what he wanted and went after it.

Shock smacked me in the face that he’d chosen me. Out of all the girls dancing, I was the one he couldn’t drop his gaze from. If our eyes hadn’t remained locked, I would’ve assumed he was walking toward someone else.

But he wasn’t. He was coming for me.

Butterflies awoke in my belly as the stupidly gorgeous man stopped before me. The electrical current crackled hotter between us as we stared at one another. Neither of us said anything, our eyes locked in an unspoken conversation I didn’t know the words to. He finally lifted his eyes, narrowing them behind me, and gave me a reprieve. Hands dropped away, and I realized what he’d done—scared off the competition.

Geez oh Pete, that was sexy. He’d gotten rid of someone with a look. One fucking look.

“You forgot he was there, didn’t you?” He smirked, and I shuddered at the sound of his voice. It was smooth and commanding. The things he could get me to do with that voice were endless.

Shrugging one shoulder, I didn’t speak. Mostly because I was unsure if I could form words. His eyes sparkled, his smirk growing, and he closed the last bit of space between us. Large hands wrapped around my back and he pulled me into him. His eyes returned to mine, and our bodies fell into a natural rhythm that shouldn’t be possible.

Running my palms up his chest, I bit my lip at the muscles I felt beneath. Holy hotness! This man was stacked. Insecurity threatened to seep in, and I wondered why someone as hot as him would look at me. But his hand caressed me, and I forgot to be ashamed of my body.

That was another reason I loved dancing. Dance didn’t care if my hips were wider than other girls, my stomach pudgier, or my ass plumper. Dance valued the beauty your body created as it bent in time to the music to tell a story.

Dancing gave me the freedom to be me without the weight of judgment.

His head lowered and touched my forehead, allowing my fingers to thread through his hair. I lost track of songs as we entwined ourselves around one another. His thigh pressed perfectly between my legs and offered the slightest friction, and when he dropped his lips to my neck, goosebumps erupted. My skin was so sensitive and on high alert to exactly where his lips traveled, making my pussy throb in tandem with my heartbeat. I’d never been this turned on before.

My sexy dance partner lifted his head and his eyes found mine. The question was clear in his dark blue-green orbs. I nodded, but before I could suggest a place, I was tugged out of his arms.

“What?” I shouted, my brain slow to register Taylor’s words.

“It’s showtime, Emmy.”

“Show…time,” I repeated, the word not computing. She dragged me to the center of the dance floor and my brain cleared.

Oh, right, that showtime.

Taylor shoved me into position next to Sydney, with Matt behind me. Brook and Chris were on the right, finishing out our six-person crew. The music changed, and the notes blared over the speakers and we fell into our routine effortlessly.

When I arrived at Brighton, I’d tried out for the Wildcat dance team. I figured it was my shot, with Hope not here to bully me. But it didn’t seem to matter if she was here or not. Her cruelty lived forever on the internet. When I arrived at tryouts, I was reminded why I’d quit competition dance in the first place—mean girls.

Thankfully, I’d been given a roommate who had a passion for dancing as much as me and had dragged me to a dance crew meeting. Dance crew incorporated hip-hop and contemporary and was made up of people who danced because they loved it. On Friday nights, we showcased our routines at Orchid to close it down. It was a nice perk of the owner’s daughter being part of our crew.

Usually, I loved this part of the evening.

But tonight, I just wanted to be back in his arms.

Thankfully, the steps were muscle memory at this point, and I effortlessly fell into it with my crew members. The crowd cheered and chanted, spurring us on. It was bittersweet in a way since it was our last performance until the fall. So I put fawning over hot boys aside and gave it my all. My crew would be here for me after tonight, but the gorgeous guy wouldn’t. I was only a pit stop on his way to something greater. As long as I recognized that, I couldn’t be sad when he never called me afterward.

Hitting the last pose, cheers broke out as the crowd converged. Arms wrapped around me as Sydney and Brooke gushed about how much they would miss me and couldn’t wait to see what crazy routines I had for them next year. Matt and Chris gave me a sweaty hug and cheek kiss before moving on to their conquests for the night. Last was Taylor, who wrapped her arm in mine and leaned her head against my shoulder.

“It’s not too late to spend the summer with me,” she whispered.

“I wish, but you know the rules. My dad lets me go out-of-state for school as long as I come home for the summer.”

She wrinkled her nose. “Are you sure you don’t live under the stairs? Because that feels a little too Harry Potter to me.”

I laughed and pulled her closer. Taylor was a great friend, and I was lucky to have met her. “I’ll miss you too, Tay.” We both laughed-cried, hiding tears that wanted to fall at our separation. Last summer hadn’t been this hard, but we’d grown closer this year, and now it felt torturous.

“Fine, fine. Go and have hot sex with dark and brooding, and tell me all about it tomorrow,” she whispered.

“He’s still here?” I asked, looking around. Tay smirked, kissed my cheek, and spun me to where my sexy dance partner leaned against the bar, watching.

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