Page 32 of Dance with the Devil

Babe.

Holy shit, Genevieve called me her ‘babe’.

I’m thirty years old. I haven’t been young in a long time. But to be her ‘babe’…

I thread my fingers through her hair, tugging her close to me. “God, you’re amazing, butterfly.”

“I am,” she agrees, her voice finding a little of its usual sass. “But just wait untilthis.”

For a split second, I think she’s going to lean back on the cot, pulling me down with her. I mean,fuck. That’s what I want to do. Only the constant reminder that we’re under surveillance has kept me from doing more than stealing kisses from this woman. I’ll be damned if any of Genevieve’s first sexual experiences take place in a cage, with a madman watching our every move, but if she initiated… I’d like to think I’d be a strong enough man to put a stop to it, but I can’t honestly say that I’m positive I would.

But that’s not what she does. One more quick kiss and she shimmies out from under my arm. Flashing me a grin, she moves gracefully off of the cot, standing in the center of the floor.

And then she dances. Humming under her breath, her eyes closed, listening to music only she can hear, Genevieve dances—and I imagine her as a butterfly, flying free, far, far away from here.

Later that night,Genevieve’s head is in my lap, all that pretty blonde hair spilled over my jeans.

Since she laid down with me again, I’ve been careful to angle my hips back as far as I can so that my aching cock isn’t jabbing her in the skull. Instead, she’s using my thighs as her pillow, staring up at the ceiling, a thoughtful expression on her face.

I twirl a strand around my finger, admitting if only to myself how damn sick it is that I… I’m feeling pretty fucking peaceful. We’ve been trapped by a madman for a little more than two weeks now—fifteen days at last count—but despite the cameras, and the light, and the knowing that this illusion of safety can be shattered at any moment on Winter’s whim… holding Genevieve close, as if I have any right to this innocent creature, I’m more at peace than I have been for most of my life.

It won’t last. God willing, her brother will still rescue her. Sinners are loyal. Tanner is a bonafide genius. If we can be found through technology, he’ll figure it out. The world is huge. At this point, I’m sure we can’t be in Springfield or they would’ve found us by now. That doesn’t mean they won’t.

Right?

I’m staring down at her.

Her lips part.

My heart swells.

Her nose wrinkles. “Do I stink?”

I blink. “What?”

She angles her head so she’s looking up at me. “I mean it, Cross. Do I stink? I think I do—and,” she adds before I can say a word, “if you tell me I smell like roses or some shit, I know you’re full of it. It’s been ages without a shower, and that sink only does so much when we only have a sliver of bar soap to use.”

Part of me is amused by the way Genevieve’s mind works. The other part is actually relieved that, after her dance, she’s regained enough of her spirits that she can actually stop to wonder about her hygiene.

“Well, you did work up a sweat when you were dancing,” I tease.

She pokes me. “You wanted me to.”

“I did. I only wish Winter felt sorry enough for me to let me have some paper and a pencil. Maybe if I gave my word I wouldn’t stab one of his goons with it.” I raise my voice. If Winter was watching the dance meant for me earlier, the least he can do is listen to me bitch at him now. “Hear that? I want a pencil, Winter!”

“Cross!”Genevieve buries her face in my crotch. “I can’t believe you—oh.”

I suck in a breath. Yeah. There’s no way in hell she can miss my erection now. “Butterfly?”

Her voice is a little muffled. “Don’t mind me. I’m, uh, just getting acquainted with your friend here.”

Watching her dance has done something incredible: for the first time in weeks, I feel light. I feelhope.

I also feel like maybe… just maybe… we might have a chance. Only that would entice me to stroke her scalp as I murmur, “I’m sure he’d be very happy if you wanted to give him a little kiss.”

When Genevieve doesn’t smack me for my tease, I realize I might’ve pushed her too far. “Hey. You okay? I was only kidding.”

“No, no. I’m fine. I’m just reminding myself why it would be a very, very bad idea to give my first blow job while I’m trapped in a glass box with a pair of cameras on me.”

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