Page 81 of Dance with the Devil

“I need my pen.” I pat my pockets, reaching up to my ear to check if I’ve kept one there. Shit. I’m empty-handed. “Let me go grab my iPad. I have to sketch something real quick.”

Genevieve knows that that’s the highest compliment I can pay her. This sudden need to draw my butterfly swaddled in clouds, wrapped up in a cyclone made up of golden threads… I have the image in my head, one I’m suddenly desperate to get down.

I have room on my thigh. It would be a perfect spot to ink it once I have the design just right?—

“Wait.”

I’m sure my eyes are wide and frantic. My fingers are twitching like they used to when I over did the caffeine. I need to draw?—

Genevieve wraps her arms around my neck again, pressing her tits against my chest, taking all of my need to draw and, just like that, transferring it straight into a need forher.

“What’s the rush?” she asks. “Stay here. With me. Draw later.”

If I stay in the studio with her, I’ll fuck her, and we both know it.

“Genevieve,” I groan.

“What’s the matter, babe?” she whispers against my lips.

“I’m trying so hard to behave, mi amor,” I whisper back, brushing mine against hers. They’re so lush and plump, and her taste… God, her fuckingtaste… “You have an audition tomorrow. You need to eat, to hydrate, and then get a good night’s sleep.”

“Do you know how often people tell me to behave?” Her eyes twinkle mischievously. I never thought I’d see that spark again, but then it came back the night I bent her over my motorcycle—and I’m so incredibly grateful it never left again. “Well?”

“Just as often as you tell them to fuck off?”

Her chuckle is warm on my skin. “Exactly. And speaking of fucking…” She drops her hand, cupping my cock possessively before letting out a sound of pure approval. “I think you’re more than ready for me.”

I squirm under her forceful hold, doing everything I can not to buck up against her palm as I grate out, “I mean this with all my love, Genevieve, when I tell you that I don’t think anyone is ever truly ready for you.”

“Maybe not,” she says, a hint of a tease in her voice, “but it’s always fun to see you try.”

Such a tempting minx. I shake my head, hair falling in my face. Genevieve likes it long, and I’ve been growing it out these last couple of months. It’s nowhere near the length it was before I cut off most of it last winter, but when she can’t keep her hands away from it, it’sperfect.

She runs her fingers through the strands, pushing it out of my eyes so that I can look dead into hers.

I see the lust there. The desire. The temptation…

“You need to prepare for your audition,” I tell her, not sure if I’m trying to remind her—or convince me.

“No, I don’t.”

“Genevieve…”

“No. Really. Wait.” She bites down on her bottom lips for a second, hiding a teasing smile. “Did I forget to mention that my audition was canceled tomorrow?—”

My stomach goes tight. After all her hard worK this past week, it was canceled? Or did she cancel it? “Butterfly, no?—”

“—because I already got the part.”

My stomach lurches, then calms. “What?”

She nods. Then, a wide grin on her gorgeous face, she uses her hands on my shoulders to brace herself before jumping up. Her long legs wrap around my waist, and though she has phenomenal core strength and can hold herself up, I’ll never miss the opportunity to get my hands on her ass.

I kiss her quickly, then nuzzle her neck. “I’m so fucking happy for you. But, wait…” I lift my head, searching her face. “Without auditioning at all?”

She shrugs, still holding tightly to me as she does. “Of course. I mean, I’m Genevieve Libellula, after all.”

I’ve never forgotten that for a minute.

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