Page 41 of Stolen Voices
The tech backs away, and her shoulders relax at the distance he puts between them. That doesn’t stop me from getting to her. I’m out the door and on the road to the hall in seconds. No one touches her without her permission. He’s going to learn quickly that if he fucks with her again, he’s fired, and I will personally throw his ass out on the street.
My earlier anger has lowered from a boil to a low simmer when I arrive and find Callie exactly where she was when I was watching her on camera. She nods as she listens to the choreographer, then mimics the choreographer’s movements with the long pieces of fabric hanging from the ceiling.
Everyone steps away from Callie as the stage darkens. The first notes of her song begin, and the spotlight turns on. The look on her face when she’s hoisted into the air has my chest tightening and my protective instincts kicking in.
How can nobody tell she’s scared? Fear is written across her face, plain as day. She does not want to do this.
I can’t help wondering if that flimsy-looking harness is safe. My heart leaps out of my chest as she hangs fifteen feet off the ground and somersaults. There are no nets below her, only old gymnastics cushions and pads.
Callie grips one of the aerial silks hanging from the ceiling, and my heart leaps into my throat as she spins, legs wrapped around the fabric as her head dangles down towards the ground. She looks like a lilac studded disco ball, sparkling overhead like a star captured out of the night sky and placed here for us mere mortals to worship.
The song ends, and they lower Callie to the stage. When her toes hit the ground, the breath I didn’t know I was holding whooshes out of me.
“That’s a wrap for the day, everyone,” the stage choreographer shouts.
The room erupts in chatter as Callie’s eyes find mine. All rational thought leaks out of my brain as a slow smile spreads across her face, and like a moth to a flame, I make my way towards her. Her eyes never leave mine as she tucks a lock of her hair behind her ear and her pink tongue swipes across her plump bottom lip.
“Hey.” My voice is way too gruff. I place my hands on the stage and look up at the bombshell above me.
How is she even prettier after eight hours of working her ass off, dancing and rehearsing?
“Hey.” Callie half kneels to the ground before getting pulled back by the harness still attached to her hip. Her face turns beet red as she fumbles to unclip the carabiners holding her back.
“Need some help?” I raise my eyebrows at her, fighting off a laugh. She’s so fucking cute when she’s flustered.
“No, thanks. I got it.” She unclips the harness and falls to her knees, which brings our faces closer.
Visions of her on her knees, for other reasons, have my dick going half-mast in my pants.
“I thought you had to work at the office today.”
“I finished early.” The lie slips easily off my tongue. Callie doesn’t need to know I was watching her through the security camera, turned into a jealous overprotective beast, and rushed over here instead of doing my job.
“Does that mean you’re driving me to the recording studio again?” She bites that plump, pink lip of hers.
A lip I want to suck on, feel wrapped around my cock…
“If you want,” I grit out, willing my cock not to move.
What is wrong with me? I sound like a gruff, moody douche.Knock it off.
My tone doesn’t bother Callie as her lips turn up into a shy smile. “I’d like that.”
Without permission, my chest puffs. She wants me to drive her. I wonder what else she wants.Don’t go there.
“Did you eat?” I ask, unable to help myself. She brings out this protective, nurturing side of me that wants to take care of her all the time. Spoil her and never let her out of my sight.
Callie playfully rolls her eyes. “Yes, sir.”
My cock hardens to steel at being called “sir”.By Callie.
Fuck, I want her to say that again, only breathier. As she…
Nope. Stop it. Right the fuck now.
“Good.”
“I’ll go shower and meet you in thirty.” She brushes a strand of her blonde hair back into her messy bun.
