Last Dance by Jeffe Kennedy

Author:Jeffe Kennedy
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction
Publisher: Jeffe Kennedy
Published: 2017-02-24T16:00:00+00:00

~ 8 ~

I almost told him not to.

Call me chicken. Tell me denial ain’t just a river in Egypt. Point out that I was thinking with my pussy—that last was Ice’s voice in my head, by the way—but I didn’t want to hear him say anything that would make me not like him.

Because I did like him. Not only because he had me jonesing for him sexually or because he had a knack for hitting all the right notes in making me feel admired. I admit it—I’m horribly vain and he did pet me in all the right ways. I’m at peace with that. Beyond catering to my shallow faults, however, he interested me. I wanted more of his sly humor, his self-effacing remarks about his career and family. And I really wanted him to take me to bed already.

I took a deep breath. Big girl panties and all. If this confession was a dealbreaker, I’d rather know it now. “Hit me.”

“I wasn’t completely forthcoming before.”

Shit. I knew it.

“I saw your show tonight,” he said in a rush. “That’s how I knew you were finishing up and why I was so close by.” He covered his mouth with his hand and rubbed his chin. “So before you yell at me and tell me to get lost for being a creepy, star struck stalker, let me put it out there that I think you’re amazing. Gorgeous singing voice. You dance like you don’t have bones. You’re a hell of an actress. Also—you have that quality, that charisma, that’s absolutely riveting. Taylor Swift should be scared.”

Yeah. Okay. I was done for.

I tried to think about it logically, but my inner Sally Fields was too loud, jumping up and down screaming He likes me! He really likes me! Some girls tumble for money, for looks, for a solid five-pointer across all categories. Which, right, that was me, too. But compliment my talent and I cave faster than Lindsay Lohan coming out of rehab.

“So,” I asked while he visibly braced himself, “do you want me to be your sex slave for life or just for tonight?”

He let out a surprised laugh. Stopped himself and then laughed again, more softly, shaking his head. “You’re unbelievable. Does nothing rattle you?”

“Oh yes. Director’s notes, struggling to get en pointe, the price of organic chicken. Math. Going to the dentist.” I shuddered dramatically. “Good thing you’re not a dentist. That would have been a dealbreaker.”

“En pointe—you dance ballet, too?”

“I did when I was young. It’s hard on the body, and I’m built wrong for ballet.” When his brow creased in puzzlement, I straightened my shoulders and thrust out my C-cups. “Top heavy. I would have had to get a breast reduction. My mother wouldn’t let me.”

“I think I love your mother.”

I laughed. My mother would probably love him, too. A disconcerting thought as she and I rarely agreed on much. “You haven’t even seen them. Maybe you should reserve judgment until you do.”

He stilled, watching me carefully. “Does

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