Status Updates From Ice Dance (Ice Dance Duet #1)

This wasn’t me, none of this was me. I was control, poise, guarded and professional. I didn’t drink cheap wine from plastic cups. I didn’t spiral in hotel rooms. I didn’t dirty dance with my partners. I didn’t get hard thinking about it in the shower afterward.

You dance with Alisha as though it’s a nine-to-five job, but you dance with him like you either want to fight him or fuck him.

I wasn’t sure I could do this, and it had nothing to do with physical skill or talent, and everything to do with how my gaze kept lingering on him longer than necessary. How I watched his quick hands flutter, like butterflies. How his too-bright smile tugged on something inside. He smiled so often I couldn’t ignore it. How it felt, having the firmness of him under my hands. The masculinity of it.

I’d wanted to do more than dance with him. I’d wanted to pull him closer still, to smother his gasp with a kiss, to taste him in ways that were forbidden. And that could never, ever be allowed to happen.

“Dance, or quit,” he snarled. “If you quit, you’ll be doing both of us a favor.” His grip tightened, pinching my fingers together.

I bared my teeth in a cold grin. “You’d like that, huh? Blame someone else again. Can’t be your fucking fault.”