Page 39 of Slow Burn
Lira James is the most phenomenal dancer I’ve ever worked with.
I kept catching Lira’s eye as she worked the room, hanging mainly with Luca, but occasionally Carlos would pull her across to talk to a producer or a particularly influential member of the press. I wondered what she was saying about me. Was she as complimentary about my dancing as I had been about hers? I guessed I would find out when the reviews came out.
When we finally had a moment alone together, I wanted to keep hold of it.
‘Come to my dressing room,’ I said to her on a whim.
She nodded, following me to my room, stepping inside after me. When I turned, it was like she had been frozen to the spot; as though she was unsure about being here in this room with me. I was not sure, either, given our track record for being alone together, but I decided for her, reaching past her to press the door shut. She looked at me, her face shinyfrom the exertion of the last couple of hours, her eyes bright and animated, as though maybe she had never had a night as wonderful as this.
Physically, we were close. Closer than we had been for a while, if you did not include the dancing; if you did not include that night at her studio.
She pressed her back against the door, although her eyes never left mine. Before I could stop myself or think better of it, my mouth was on hers. She responded quickly, deeply. It felt… like nothing I had ever experienced. Her lips were so fucking pillowy and satin soft, like I could just fall into them and never come back out. A moan coursed through my body; I could not hold it in. She must know now how much I wanted her.
‘Lira,’ I said, enjoying the way her name bounced around my mouth, kissing her neck, running my tongue all the way up to her earlobe. She arched her back away from the door. She wanted me too.
Good. A relief.
I found her mouth again because it was just too delicious not to. She parted her lips and I slid my tongue inside. Jesus, it felt so good. Everything about me felt more alive than it ever had; every cell inside of me was begging for more. Whatever it was she was doing to me, I needed her to keep doing it.
Suddenly she put her hands on my chest, pushing me lightly away.
‘We shouldn’t—’
I hesitated. Nodded. ‘I know,’ I said.
There were a few painful moments of longing before I plunged my mouth onto hers again. It was no good; I could not keep away. I was frantic with longing. Threading my fingers through hers, I pinned them above her head as she ground against me.
Of course we should not do this. It was a terrible idea, especially after the conversation I had just had with my mother. Much like our first meeting, there would be a definite ending to whatever this was. I would be in Italy after the tour had ended, most likely, and Lira would be beginning a new chapter of her life elsewhere.
And yet, still I wanted her.
I let her arms drop, sliding my hands into her hair, gasping with pleasure as my fingers became tangled in her soft curls. For the show, she had worn her hair slicked off her face and held in place with a shiny bun, but now strands of it were breaking loose and I buried my face in it, breathing in the scent of her. I moaned again, completely involuntarily, and this time I did not care how loud I was, or who might hear us. She cried out, too, seemingly not caring either.
I pulled her towards me. Effortlessly, she wrapped her legs around my waist. I carried her across to the dressing table, gently placing her down on the edge of it. Removing one hand from her body, I swept all my things off the table, sending everything clattering onto the floor.
She was still wearing her final costume, a red satindress that clung to every curve. I eased the thin pieces of fabric off her shoulders. She found the zip herself, reaching behind her back, letting the dress fall forward to reveal a black lacy bra that barely contained the full, round breasts I had thought about repeatedly over the years. I unclipped her bra, wanting it out of the way, throwing it to one side, and then I ran my thumb over one nipple and then the other.
She threw her head back, laughing with delight. How lucky I was to have found her again when I had thought that one night was all I would ever have.
I was so caught up in how beautiful Lira looked half-naked, the baby-soft skin of her back pressed flat against my mirror, that it took me a moment or two to register the knock on my door. And Carlos’s voice outside in the corridor.
‘Gabriele? Are you in there? There is somebody you must meet!’
Lira looked at me with fear in her eyes – she knew as well as I did that Carlos would not be happy to find us together. With no words needed, we instantly began scrabbling to get dressed, to right ourselves, to put on the clothes that had been peeled off and flung aside. She put the back of her hand against her cheeks, hoping, presumably, to calm the flushed skin there.
I ran my thumb under her chin, desperately wanting to kiss her again but knowing I could not.
‘Rain check?’ I whispered.
She nodded, an unreadable smile forming on her full lips as I sighed, straightened myself up and headed for the door.
CHAPTER FIFTEENLira
Two days later, it was unusually quiet in the house when I woke and padded downstairs for breakfast. Mum and Dad had left for their trip, their ship setting sail from Southampton and heading for sunnier climes.
We’d only spoken once since our argument at the studio, and the conversation had been stilted and tense, not helped by the fact they were rushing to finish their packing, and I was obviously anxious about my performance. I hadn’t wanted to admit it to myself, but the truth was, I’d sort of expected Sedi to make the effort to come and watch the show instead of wasting the ticket I’d put aside for her at the box office. Sure, she had a temper, and was definitely one to storm off and sulk on occasion. But we’d always been close despite our differences, one of which was that usuallyI avoided conflict at all costs while she waded right into the middle of it, all guns blazing. Nolo was more like me in that regard, although even she wouldn’t shy away from speaking her mind when she had to. I wasn’t sure where this need to be perfect all the time had come from – was it something my parents had done differently with me, or was it just part of my personality, something I would have to work hard to change?
Whenever we’d fallen out in the past, always over something relatively small, I’d been the one to approach Sedi; to say sorry first. But I hadn’t done that yet because, well, I didn’t think I needed to. What exactly would I be saying sorry for? Okay, I definitely could have told them earlier, when it first happened, the night Carlos had returned to the studio and asked me to audition. But wasn’t I allowed to keepanythingto myself? I’d never imagined it would go this far, and hadn’t thought in a million years that I’d be cast, so I hadn’t exactly felt like broadcasting it to my entire family. Also, I knew their reaction would have put me off – they’d have been keen to remind me that it had been years since I’d set foot on a proper stage, and that it took time and practice to be a professional dancer, neither of which I had in their opinion. They were right – I definitely didn’t have the time, what with running the family business for them 24/7.
