Page 53 of Lust

“Yeah, I know I’ve been in here before, remember?” I grumble. “I’m one of the Inferno Games contestants.”

He shrugs as though he couldn’t care less. “Your time slot ends at ten pm.”

“Thanks.” I can feel Dade come up behind me. I can’t help it. I’m so much more attuned to his demon aura than I am to the other demons. Remy clears his throat. I turn and give the pair of them a wide smile, which neither reciprocates.

“Let’s get this over with,” Remy says, clutching my hand and pulling me to the doors.

I pull back, bringing him to a halt. “Wait. We need a plan of action before we go in. With three of us going in there, who knows what the Earthery will conjure.”

“What do you suggest?”

I shrug my shoulders, wishing I’d thought about this a bit more. “We know there’s going to be a ballroom, so I’m thinking that we might need to learn waltzes. But knowing Noémi, she’ll probably mix it up. She was a can-can girl at the Moulin Rouge. There are so many different kinds of music and so many types of dancing. This isn’t going to be easy.”

“Just pick one.” Remy says gruffly.

I’m flustered already and we aren’t even in there yet. “Let’s go with a ballroom. I don’t actually know any waltzes because, funnily enough, there wasn’t a lot of opportunity to go to waltzes when I was growing up owing to the fact I was dirt poor and, you know, born in the wrong freaking century. I’ve seen them in movies though and I think we can figure it out if we make the Earthery conjure up the steps marked on the floor.”

“Let’s do it,” Remy says, clearly irritated.

As we step through the doors into the darkness, I picture a grand ballroom. I’ve never stepped foot in one in real life, so I only have TV and movie sets to go on, but when I open my eyes I find myself in a room so grand and beautiful it’s perfect. There’s no orchestra, but the strains of classical music are playing somewhere. I hold my breath for a moment hoping that it’s not only me hearing the music in my head and it’s more trickery by the demons that run this place, but seeing as I’m not super horny and neither are the other two judging by dark looks on both their faces, I think we’re good.

I can’t breathe properly and for a second, a thrill of fear grips me until I look down and see I’m wearing a tightly laced corset under my dress. Why is it I end up in these devices of torture every time I come in here?

I look up to see both men staring at me, anticipation coating their features. I’ve never particularly been into period TV shows, but I think I have a new found love of them as I take in the pair of them. Both are dressed in white high colored shirts and dark pants and both have long dark jackets on. Beneath Dade’s is a black waistcoat. I swallow at the sight of them. Their hair is styled in the style of the era, but where Remy doesn’t look much different with his floppy hair, Dade now has sideburns and his hair is swept back from his face.

He looks gorgeous.

I take a few deep breaths and point to the foot markings in the parquet flooring. “You stand here and take my waist.”

Dade barely has time to move before Remy jumps into the position. “How about you dance with me and Dade watches? He can learn that way. I’m guessing Dade knows more about grand balls than we do, anyway.” He shoots him a warning look. “Isn’t that right, Angelis?”

“This is my first,” Dade admits, even though they must have had them in the time he was alive. He nods to me and takes a step back to the side of the room, which is partially in shadows. He seamlessly disappears into the darkness that the Earthery hasn’t quite managed to fill as the ballroom is so large.

A shocking pang of disappointment floods through me as I take my position in front of Remy, though this is the best possible outcome. Dade learns the steps, thus fulfilling my promise to him and I don’t even have to touch him. Plus, there’s the added bonus that I’m learning new steps myself. It will make us all better dancers too.

My mind is all over the place as Remy takes my hand in his and puts the other on my ass. I hitch in a sharp breath as he pulls me in closer. Dade’s aura deepens perceptively, distracting me.

I pull back slightly. “I can’t breathe as it is in this corset. Let up a little.”

He leans forward and growls in my ear, “Just making sure he knows who you belong to.”

I cringe but reposition myself and direct his hand to my waist, giving us a couple of inches of space between us.

I can barely concentrate as I position my feet on the colored steps beneath my feet. “I don’t know the waltz or whatever dance this is, but I figure we look at the steps on the floor and follow them to the rhythm of the music.” I look up. “You’re supposed to lead, but I think we just have to go with the flow.”

It takes a few minutes of us stepping over each other’s feet, and it’s not helping that we are having to look at the floor to follow the steps, but we soon get into a rhythm. I can’t see Dade, but I can feel his eyes watching us from the shadows. It’s unnerving and unsettling. As Remy spins me around, I finally catch sight of Dade. He’s watching me with laser focus. Not Remy and I, just me. It’s disconcerting, but it’s also unnerving how aroused I am, being the sole focus of attention. I lick my lips without thinking, then, when I realize what I’m doing, I pull my tongue back into my mouth. Desire curls though me. It’s being watched from the shadows that’s igniting my arousal. It’s knowing Dade is watching me, but barely being able to see him. I feel exposed and nervous and what I’m doing feels forbidden.

I’m no longer dancingwithRemy.

I’m dancingforDade.

This isn’t supposed to happen. I direct my attention to Remy to take my mind off the way my core is heating. This dance is simple. A couple of steps here, a couple of steps there, but Remy can’t seem to do it without looking down at the steps painted on the floor. “You should be looking at your partner,” I point out, desperate to get this over with as quickly as possible.

Remy looks up and pulls me to him in the same position we were in when we started. I’m way too close to him and the shifting of position has me tripping and losing my footing.

“Stop. We’ve lost the rhythm,” I grimace as he crushes my body to his.

“You said I should lead,” he grumbles, “so let me lead.”

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