Page 4 of The Dancer

I glare at Abel one last time before I school my features into the sultry smile I perfected over time and push open the heavy wooden door.

The lighting in the room is low, but my eyes adjust easily to spot a large man reclined on a black leather couch. The moment my eyes land on him, I know this is a bad idea. He is the perfect specimen of a predator. His body is massive and dominates the space even when he tries to seem relaxed.

It takes me a moment to gather myself before I can speak, his presence messing with my senses.

“I’m The Dancer,” the words leave me in a husky whisper. “You requested a private dance?”

“Come here,” he commands, his voice low and sexy, sending goose bumps skittering across my skin.

I want to protest, but my legs are already moving. I would love to say he used his Alpha compulsion on me, but we both know that isn’t true. My body is reacting to him of its own volition. I’ve never felt this strange draw to another person in my entire life.

He shifts his legs, widening the space between his thighs and making room for me to stand. His gaze is like a physical caress as he watches every step I take toward him until I am directly in front of him.

“Turn around. Slowly.”

The pupils of his dark eyes are blown out, and I can see the ring of gold around the iris, betraying his beast lurking beneath the surface. He is working hard to keep his animal at bay. The thought should terrify me, but knowing I have this effect on him is a heady feeling, and I comply to fulfill his wishes. I turn in a slow circle hoping I look as sexy as I feel beneath his gaze.

I can feel the dark energy rolling off him in waves. He is holding back from touching me, and even though I have never allowed it, I honestly think I might let this man.

Once I face him again, I can see his clenched jaw, the strain in his shoulders, and his fisted hands beside him. But the thing that has my full attention is his massive cock straining at the front of his dark suit pants. I lick my lips like a wanton whore before gazing back at his face.

“Dance for me, Beautiful,” he all but growls the words.

I slowly make my way over to the docking station in the corner and select one of my favorite songs. The moment the music filters through the speakers, I sway my hips, running my hands up the side of my body until they are tangled in my hair. I let the rhythm sweep me away from this room and the man in it, and I do what I do best.

I dance.

The rustle of clothing draws my attention, and my gaze flicks to him. He removed his jacket and rolled his white dress shirt above his forearms. The dark ink that covers his flesh intrigues me, and I want to see it up close. My feet carry me closer to him once more, all while keeping to the song’s beat.

He leans forward, resting his forearms on his knees.

“Who are you?” he asks darkly.

“The Dancer. I already told you.” My words are husky, with the unexpected lust running through my veins. “Who are you?”

“Elias Anderson. Now tell me your name, Beautiful.”

His gaze locks with mine, and I feel entranced. I lose myself in his dark eyes and it takes me a moment to break out of the trance he has put me in.

“Quinn,” the word slips from me before I even have the chance to think about it.

Chapter Four

Elias

“Quinn.” Her name falls from my lips, and I see her miss a beat of the song, a full-body shiver working its way through her curvy frame before she resumes. “A beautiful name for a beautiful woman.”

Where the hell did that corny line come from? Maybe Madden is right, and I am out of touch with the world.

“Thank you, Elias.”

My name falling from her lips has a strange surge moving through me, and I swear I would give anything to hear her moan it with my knot locked deep inside her cunt.

Where the fuck did that thought come from?

Never in my life have I ever wanted to knot a female. The women I have fucked in the past have always been simply a distraction, a one-and-done type deal. But this woman? I want to knot and breed and keep. Pushing the thought aside, I run my gaze along her exposed skin.

“Dance for me, Quinn.” It seems to be the only other thing I can say right now except my corny lines.

---