Dance For Me (Strip in the City, Book 2)

18 • Hot Idea

Tan

I rushed inside the dance studio Maren hooked us up with now that Blanche's was in the middle of renovations, still wearing the same black leotard and a pair of nude tights I'd been wearing all day.

Todd the Rod, who I just called Rod, Big Dick Nick, who I just called Big, and Lucas were already deep into their own rehearsal.

Guilt pirouetted in my stomach, along with the handful of almonds I'd eaten on the cab ride here. I was thirty minutes late. Again.

Dominick was sitting in the exact same folding chair he'd been sitting in every night this week, reading his book and looking like a damn thirst trap. His soft blond hair was falling in front of his face and his fitted white button-down was stretched tight across his chest.

I swallowed hard. Sweet hell. It was hard to deny that I wanted to do more than dance with him. Every inch of my skin ached to feel his hands on me. To be the center of his attention again.

He glanced at his watch, then at me, before going back to his book.

"I'm so sorry I'm late!" I shouted, tossing my bag on the ground and stripping off my tights, trying to ignore Dominick's presence.

"Don't be sorry!" Lucas countered as the guys finished their last eight count. "No big deal. You've taught us enough to get started."

"That's right," Big added, sweat already rolling between his abs. He was the only one that had hair on his chest, and I thought it worked for his look. "Besides, you being late gave us time to go over the steps Rod over here keeps fuckin' up."

Laughter broke out, and it made me happy to know the guys were all getting along and working as a team. I watched them run through the opening number one more time, stopping them at certain points to show them where they could add more personality into the routine and highlighting how important it was to make eye contact with the audience.

"Remember, this is about creating a fantasy," I explained. "You want to be the star of every woman's dirty thoughts for the next week."

My pep talked seemed to inspire some confidence. After they ran through the opening number again, I told Rod and Big to work on a few moves off to the side so I could run Lucas through his solo number.

Teaching choreography reminded me of why I fell in love with dance in the first place. It was fun.

During our rehearsals, I wasn't sweating bullets and wondering if my body looked perfect or if I was doing enough to impress Celeste. It was just about the music and the moves.

Ballet was for everyone else. Strip dancing felt like it was for me.

Lucas grabbed a chair for me to sit in and I slid onto the cold metal, waiting for him to give me the signal that he was ready to start so I could count him in.

"You doing okay?" Lucas asked as he buttoned up a short sleeve top that he would be taking off during his routine. "You seem a little out of it."

I wondered if I looked as haggard as I felt.

"I'm fine," I replied, keeping my voice low. "I'm just a little tired. It's been a long week." I stretched my neck from side to side, then ran my fingers over the tight bun my hair was twisted up in. "Ballet has been a bitch, and my ballet mistress has been impossible." I sighed. "I hope I'm a much nicer choreographer than her."

Lucas chuckled. "If you hate it so much, why do you keep doing it?"

"I don't hate it," I said automatically, then bit my lip. I didn't hate ballet, right? Sure, it wasn't as fun as this, but that was because I was working at a professional level. It wasn't supposed to be fun.