Page 76 of When Hearts Awaken

He’s mad—Ian Vaughn’s performances are never mediocre, they are always spectacular.

“The company has undergone a lot of changes recently, with me joining as the director and with our lead dancer getting injured. A slow warm up is to be expected, so no, I’m not disappointed. I’m actually…”

I don’t pay attention to the rest of his words. My gaze trails to the woman next to him, her lips in her signature dark purple, her thick glorious hair in loose waves—hair that I finally got to wrap around my wrist as I made her come and shatter in what was the most erotic experience of my life.

I don’t even want to think why that is the case when I typically prefer sex to be rough and raw, pain and control.

Taylor’s shoulders are hunched forward, like she’s weighed down by Ian’s disappointments. She’s fiddling with the silver bangle I’ve seen her wear often. I wonder what the story is behind it and if she’ll tell me someday.

I frown. Something tugs at me in my mind, but it disappears before the thought crystallizes.

Look up, minx. Where’s that badass I don’t give a fuck ballerina?

As if she heard me, she glances my way, and her gray eyes widen before she quickly looks away.

Taylor did ask Maddy what happened in Paris. Maddy said she promised to perform for a private event for some businessmen to earn money on the side, but decided not to do it at the last minute. There were some arguments, but she was fine. Taylor was obviously relieved and gave me an update, knowing I was concerned as well.

But other than that, she has been avoiding me since that night in the alcove—darting in the opposite direction when she sees me walking down the corridors of the hotel or the rehearsal studios, or leaving the room when I enter.

It’s maddening as fuck.

“Why are you doing this, Taylor?” I cornered her in her dressing room after the last performance in Paris.

My patience was running low after yet another TV interview about the bank’s re-haul efforts, but at least I hadn’t seen any more picket lines. Ironically, the public seemed to have warmed up to me after my unhinged outburst in front of ABTC over the Patterson trial, which was still ongoing. I shredded the invitation from The Association, deciding to heed Grandma and Maxwell’s warnings. We’d weather the trial the old-fashioned way. We Vaughns lived with honor, and I was sure anything to do with that mysterious organization was anything but honorable.

“Doing what?” She moved about the room, her hands fiddling with makeup brushes and random items.

“Avoiding me.”

“I’m not. Just because of what happened doesn’t make you the boss of me. Don’t get your panties all up in a twist.”

A muscle pulsed in my jaw. “I never took you for a coward.”

She whirled around and faced me, her eyes narrowing. “Fuck you. I’m not a coward. I just had a moment of weakness and you happened to be there. Nothing more, nothing less. Don’t think so highly of yourself, Charles Vaughn. Nothing happened—nothing important, anyway.”

I stepped toward her and watched her throat rippling as she swallowed. “Nothing important, huh?” A bolt of heat shot up my spine and I wanted to reenact that night to see if she’d say the same thing after she came apart in my arms again.

She backed up a few steps as I continued my pursuit.

“So you didn’t come and leak all over my fingers that night?” I rasped, the fury in my veins slowly turning into something else as heated blood gathered in my cock. “I still remember all your whimpers and moans when I flicked your little piercing, minx. Your sweet smell and taste as you asked me to help you forget the past. Then I wiped your tears away and every inch of me wanted to murder the man who put them there.”

Taylor pressed her back against the vanity table, her pulse fluttering wildly in her throat. Her lips parted, beckoning me to kiss them, to bite them, to get another fix of the addiction I was never supposed to have.

I leaned in and whispered, “Do you remember that? I do…every night before I close my eyes with my hand wrapped around my aching cock, wishing you were there with me, because I knew it meant something to you that night, just as it did for me. And fuck if I know why that is, but at least I’m not a coward about it.”

Our lips were inches apart. I could almost taste her honeyed sweetness. I wanted to give her more pleasure, to chase out the pain of her past.

Suddenly, she pushed me away and pointed toward the door. “I need to change and I’d like to do it alone. Please leave.”

“Mr. Vaughn, what are your thoughts on the matter?” a reporter’s voice draws my attention back to the present.

Heat rushes through my body and I fight the impulse to tug on my tie as I reply, “Sorry, can you repeat the question? I’ve been thinking about our successful tour and how meaningful the donations will be for the organizations—always multitasking.” I finish my remark with a grin and a wink.

The reporter flushes before speaking, “Sir Ian mentioned some hiccups at the beginning are to be expected. What are your thoughts?”

I clasp my hands together. “I completely agree. I have one hundred and ten percent faith in Sir Ian’s direction and Ms. Peyton-Anderson’s abilities. The best is yet to come. Mark my words.” I feel the weight of her stare on my face.

“Is the Bank of Columbia still firm on their commitment that all proceeds will go toward victims’ rights organizations?”

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