Every Bad Boy Needs a Dancer

Every Bad Boy Needs a Dancer

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WpMetadataReadMatureOngoing53m
WpMetadataNoticeLast published Tue, Aug 15, 2017
I creaked the bathroom door open and quietly tiptoed out hoping he hadn't heard me. But he had. And there he was, shamelessly raking his eyes over my towel clad body, smirking. "Why hello, kitty." he whispered, slowly making his way towards me. His arms wrapped around my waist, pulling me into him, and nuzzling his face into my neck. "I heard you have rehearsals tomorrow. I'll come to watch you dance, baby." he murmured, planting light kisses on my sensitive skin.
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She didn't reply and I felt her finger move across my skin, lower, and almost all the way down my lower back. A shiver coursed through my body, strangely pleasant, and I felt her finger stop. "Your tattoos are beautiful," she said softly. Too close. She was too close. My pulse was hammering and I could feel her cool breath against my skin when she spoke, and my body was warm from having felt her. I couldn't reply. My breathing was light and shaken. I wanted to just turn around and pull her against me, or rather put her against a wall, so I could kiss her and feel her more properly against me. If she touched me again, I wasn't sure that I could keep myself from doing just that. "I'm going to take a shower," I said suddenly in an attempt to escape. She didn't stop me, so I took that opportunity to walk away. When I reached the bathroom, I took a deep breath to steady myself as well as my pulse. Closing the door behind me, I ran a hand through my hair. She truly was a nightmare. A bad boy's worst nightmare was a girl that made him want to be a good one.

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