Page 84 of The Dance Deception
It’s nearly two by the time my own phone pings – this time with the news I’ve been waiting for all day. I whoop as soon as I see the text from Olivia.
‘We’ve got it,’ I read out to Aleksis. ‘Your sister’s really gone the extra mile. We’ll organise a little something to say thank you.’
‘Thank goodness for that,’ Aleksis laughs, high fiving me then pulling me in for a kiss.
‘I think I might cry. It’s such a relief.’
‘Don’t do that,’ he says. ‘Let’s celebrate with a quick lunch break, then we’ll switch to the salsa again. You’ve been brilliant this week by the way, in case you didn’t already know. Despite all the disruption, you’re picking up both routines really well.’
‘It’s because I’m enjoying it. This salsa might even be my favourite dance. I wouldn’t have said that four weeks ago.’
Four weeks ago, I would have dug my heels in and flat-out refused to dance it again in the final. How different things are now. How different I am.
Sofiya arrives bang on time, and drops off a suitcase full of the things we need to get ready. After we’ve splashed ourselves clean in the sinks, got changed and I’ve speedily done my hair and make-up, we check ourselves out in the mirror – and I have to admit, I’m impressed. You’d never guess we’d thrown it all together in under an hour.
I’ve selected a short white prom dress with a sheer embellished layer over the top. The white underlayer has a strapless bodice and a flared skirt, while the sheer layer adds delicate streaks of silver to the skirt and an intense swirl of silver to the bodice that creeps up onto each shoulder. It’s stunning. Aleksis has opted for pale greytrousers and a crisp white T-shirt, which complement the dress perfectly.
‘Your sister has such good taste,’ I smile.
‘It runs in the family,’ he says and pulls me towards him for a kiss.
It’s only a ten-minute walk to the gig and when we arrive we’re instantly swept up in a flurry of camera flashes and fans calling out to us for selfies. We pose with a few, then stop in front of the waiting paparazzi, who ask us to turn this way and that so they can all get their shots in.
There are more than I expected, but when I later spot high-profile models, Premier League footballers and TV stars inside the pub, I realise why. We’re among red-carpet royalty. I can hardly believe my luck.
I catch a brief glimpse of Merle and Emilia on the other side of the room, but it’s a big enough venue that we don’t cross paths. And once Eden Shay walks out onto the makeshift stage, no one is looking anywhere but at her.
There’s something mesmerising about her as she thanks everyone for coming along. It’s that stage presence you just can’t explain. And even though she only sings six songs, chatting in between about what inspired each one, it’s one of the best gigs I’ve ever been to. I’ve never been so close to the front before. I could almost reach out and touch her.
I can’t stop raving about it when we find ourselves back out on the street just over an hour later. ‘I wish we could go back in and watch it all again. That last song has brought me out in goose bumps.’
Aleksis puts his arms round me when he sees me shivering.
‘I don’t want to go home yet, do you?’ I ask, as we watcha soap actress slip out of the venue and climb quickly into a waiting car.
‘Not really. It’s too early for bed and we won’t gain anything by trying to squeeze in any more dance practice now.’
My eyes follow the car as it speeds away. ‘Where do you think she’d go, if she fancied an after-party?’
‘Mayfair?’ he suggests. ‘We could always head that way too and treat ourselves to some fancy food at Nobu.’
It feels like a fitting way to round off such a brilliant evening.
But there are no free tables at short notice on a Friday night, so we end up squeezing into an Italian restaurant close by, for a less extravagant but equally tasty feast.
Still on a high, we kiss all the way home in the taxi. And back at the apartment our upbeat mood continues. We pour ourselves a nightcap and take it to the sofa, still jabbering on about our favourite parts of the evening, as well as the other bands we’d like to see in such an intimate setting.
Aleksis idly traces the hem of my skirt with his fingers while we’re talking, until eventually they find their way under the folds of material. A knowing look passes between us and we both put our drinks on the coffee table without another word.
We move closer together and he runs his hand up my thigh. When he reaches the lace of my knickers, he hooks them to one side and reaches inside. I lean back and smile, impressed that he always manages to find just the right spot.
After I’ve raised my hips so he can help me wriggle free of my underwear, he swings me up onto his lap so we can kiss while he touches me. As our tongues meet I can feel him stirring through his trousers beneath me.
He tucks his hands under my bum and lifts it until I’m kneeling in front of him, his mouth now level with my clit, and I pull my skirt out of the way so he can open me up with his tongue, the waves of pleasure instantly making me light-headed. He grips the backs of my thighs to hold me steady.
I lean my arms on the back of the sofa so he can let go of my legs to undo his trousers, and somehow he manages to push them just far enough out of the way with his mouth never leaving me. I lower myself onto his lap and he enters me from below, his hands caressing my breasts through the material of my dress, his trousers caught up round his ankles, neither of us wanting to interrupt the flow to finish undressing.
As we rock against each other he brushes his lips across my cheeks and I kiss his neck. Then our mouths meet again, his tongue seeking mine hungrily.
