Page 84 of The Failed Audition

Thora.

I can almost hear my own breath.Stop panting.

Five steps into the carpeted hallway, I’m about to try my hand at small talk again, just to break the quiet. He drops his gym bag though. And he clasps my hips, his gaze peeling off every thin article of clothing, stroking my skin.

I keep him at a foot’s distance, even though I can tell he wants me closer. “I’m…sweaty,” I throw it out there.

He tilts my chin. “So am I, myshka.”

I let him tug me to his chest, one of his hands warming the back of my neck. The longer he just stares through me, the heavier my breathing becomes. He’s eye fucking me. My legs tremble, the spot between my thighs pulsing for a harder pressure. Forhim.I’ve never ached for that this much.

I lick my lips. “Why do you call me myshka?” I’ve known, but I want to hear him say it.

“Because to me, you’re little.” His hand drifts from my hip to my lower back, pushing me right up along his body. No room between us. He’s not even hard and the bulge in his shorts presses against my abdomen. He looks at me knowingly—knowing that I can feel him, knowing that he’s outsized me, knowing that his dominance is beginning to melt my bones.

With his height and size, compared to mine, I can’t even begin to fantasize how big he is fully erect. How small I’ll be.

He lowers his head to kiss me, pausing a breath away. I unconsciously buck against him, and his chest collapses in arousal. When his lips touch mine, the intensity bursts, and he grips me hard, pressure building everywhere as his tongue dances. As his hands roam. His thumb skims my nipple, the leotard thin, and he continues the back and forth rhythm over the barbell piercing.

My nerves prick, and I stand on the tips of my toes, aching to be even closer.

He hears my silent plea, lifting me up around his waist, my legs split. He’s right. Every part of me is little to him. My limbs, my size, my lips, my eyes—and every part of him is large to me. His arms, his shoulders, his jaw, his thighs.

I feel myself become wet.

My lips swell behind the force of his aggressive, non-stop kiss, the kind that blinds me. I want his hands everywhere. All at once. He explores the bareness of my arms, of my neck. My mind is combusting into a million thousand shards. I can’t…I break the kiss and rest my forehead on his shoulder, panting for breath.

“I just…” I try to collect myself.

He holds the back of my head protectively, caringly. His breathing is as heavy and staggered as mine. I feel him studying my movements, fluent in body language. I’m still a novice, but if anyone is going to teach me, I’d want it to be him.

I can’t stop thinking about our size difference. “We’re not going to fit together,” I sayaloud.

He cups my face to look at me. By his strong, unshaven jaw, I’m deeply aware of his age again. “Physically or metaphorically?” he asks with raised brows.

My lips part, slightly wishing I kept my thoughts to myself.

“Physically,” he answers off my expression. “I’ll be able to fit deep inside you. And when I do, you’re going to be entirely full of me.” Sex. His voice is sex. Everything is liquid sex. He kisses my forehead, my body shuddering one last time before he gently sets me on my feet.

I’m rethinking my “slow” proclamation, but I remember the last time I had sex. After the fourth date. It was lackluster, and while I doubt that word belongs to the attraction I have for Nikolai, I want to solidify something more permanent before we take that step. I want this to be different. Better than that.

He leads me to the elevators, arm around my shoulders. “Can you be back here around seven?” he asks me.

“Yeah. Are we practicing again?” I frown as he pushes the button on the wall. It lights up while we wait.

“No,” he says. “I’m taking you out.”

My body responds with those anxious flutters and tightened muscles again.A date, I realize. I’m going on a date with the devil.

ACT TWENTY-THREE

“Sorry about that,” Nikolai states. He pockets his cell, one that has been buzzing since we sat down. We’re on the balcony patio of Rush, metal torches flaming along the railing. It adds to the heat of the summer, my hair down, the pieces curling by my face, the rest probably frizzing.

Despite the view of Vegas being gorgeous tonight, I feel dazed by my surroundings and my own body. Camila helped me pick out a teal empire dress with a silver ornamental necklace, and so that’s what I’m wearing.

“It’s okay,” I say. “My phone isn’t behaving any better.” Just as I say it, another text pings. This one from my mom.

Tanner placed first in science wars! Be sure to text him.– Mom

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