Page 15 of Allured
I’ve been staring at the bulge of our hands beneath his white shirt, lost in thought while this spectacle of a man sits in my lap. I hope I didn’t offend him by retreating into my own contemplation.
Alek is staring at me like he can read the thoughts running through my mind, the ones that I am unable to understand, myself. His face is warm and kind and I am overcome by it. There’s promise in it and it’s more than I deserve after failing to communicate with him for a whole week.
Gently removing our hands from his chest, Alek keeps ahold of mine as he places a tender kiss on my knuckles. The touch of his lips calms me as much as it pains me. As quiet and quick as the gesture was, it speaks volumes. His stare and the serene brush of his lips hold forgiveness, possession, and a pledge.
The movement was obscured by how close our bodies are to each other. I know the reassuring action was only for me.
Too soon, he’s lifting himself off my lap and my heart yearns to follow and stay in his presence for just a second longer. It doesn’t seem right to leave things as they were and I crave his company more than anything.
My hands lay numbly in my lap as I keep staring up at him, my revelation in a pair of pink cowboy boots.
His parting smile is more blinding than the beaming lights from the stage could ever be, and his parting words fuel the desire coursing within me.
“I’ll be seeing you later, angel.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
ALEK
Unleash.
In the near decade that I’ve been performing, I’ve never wanted to end a show early. Not even that time when I overdid it at the buffet during a pre—show group dinner. I couldn’t back down though, Benny would have bragging rights for life. In the end, I ate my weight in food, managed to put on a good show, and I got fifty bucks from that fucker.
Right now, though, I’m surprised I’ve made it to the end of the show with all my limbs still intact. I’m distracted and antsy as hell.
Ezekiel is in the front row and currently watching as we perform our closing set. I haven’t decided exactly how I’m going to approach him after the show but I know there is no goddamn way that he’s slipping through my fingers again. Especially not after that moment we shared at the beginning of the show.
Finally, the last note of our ending song plays, the stage goes black, and the crowd erupts in loud cheers.
All the performers start heading downstairs to wrap up for the night. Many of them will stay around and have a drink or get a quick bite to eat since the club turns into more of a casual bar vibe once the show is over. The crowd is invited to stick around and mingle too.
I can’t get down these stairs fast enough. In seconds, I’m in the dressing room and changing into something a little less festive. As I’m finishing up and pushing my way out of the room, I hear a couple of laughs or questions as to why I’m in such a rush, but I ignore them to quickly make my way back upstairs.
Shit. I pause at the top of the steps.
What should I say to him? What if he didn’t stay after the show?
He’s already forgotten about me once. I didn’t hear a damn peep from him since last weekend. What if he’s actually not interested?
No, no.
The look in his eyes as I climbed into his lap earlier and the shaking of his hands when they were on my body tell me the opposite. I don’t know exactly what’s going on in that beautiful head of his but I have enough experience to know that heisinterested, and so am I. So fucking interested.
Ezekiel’s got the whole ‘nerdy and proper looking gentleman, but secretly a freak in bed’ aura going on. And the dude is unintentionally funny as fuck, how am I not supposed to be interested? Ez is a walking wet dream.
My thoughts trail as I begin to walk out the side of the stage and into a hallway that leads to the common area of the club.
I’m not even five steps into the hallway when I spot Ezekiel holding a purse and leaning against the wall outside the bathroom.
His body is turned so I’m only seeing part of his profile. Those damn glasses of his are so slid down his nose thatI physically have to restrain myself from the temptation of pushing them back in place.
I know I’ve got to play it cool. By how he’s reacted in our last few meetings, he either doesn’t have much experience with dating or he’s straight—up shy. I’m still going to tease him, of course, but I might dial it back a bit.
“Hey, Ez,” I say softly, a couple of steps behind him now.
I swear I’m watching him turn in slow motion. The dude is a knock—out and nothing is better than seeing those brightazuleyes looking at me behind those thick glasses of his.
A few more steps and I’m standing in front of him, both of us tucked against the wall in this little section of the hallway. I meet his gaze, my head lowered slightly to find his eyeline.
