“Shall we?” Noah asks and takes his stance in the centre of the floor holding out his hand to me.
Gotan Project’s ‘Santa Maria’ sparks to life over the speaker system, and I step up to my partner.
We dance the tango, and it’s… fine. We move correctly, enjoy the music and repeat the same dance to different songs practicing until our movements are perfect, but it lacks... passion. There’s nothing beyond some choreographed shapes measured to the beat of someone else’s song. As much as I appreciate stretching my legs and trying something new with Noah, this just isn’t how I dance. I like to claim the music as mine, feel it to my bones. Today, the only thing I feel is downhearted.
“Shoot, it’s nearly one. I need to get to my sister’s,” Noah says, collecting his things and hastily shoving them into his bag.
“No worries, I’m just going to cool down,” I tell him grabbing my towel and wiping the back of my neck. I stretch and take a second to think about what I’m doing. It’s Monday, that means no classes are due until six p.m. I checked the register in the office before I came into the studio, and none of the other rooms are booked. I have the whole place to myself for hours.
“Gotta go,” Noah shouts running toward the door. “Shit,” he spits running back to me. “I forgot to give you my number.”
“Huh?” I question.
“So you can text me Helena’s number,” he tells me, his cheeks pinking slightly. Yep, totally a good guy. “Also, I’d like to think we’re friends now, right?” he says nonchalantly, but there’s an undertone of uncertainty.
“Of course,” I reply, pulling out my phone.
“Hit me with your number and I’ll text you tonight,” I tell him.
He reels off the details, and I add them to my phone before he rushes away.
I stretch for about five minutes and am just getting ready to take off my shoes and choose a new song and dance when the silence in the room is shattered.
“Finally. I thought he’d never leave.” Isaac’s deep voice throbs through my whole body, and just like that, I’m alive and buzzing.
“Y-you were watching us?” I have no idea why my words come out as a stammer, only that this man always leaves me breathless.
“Pretty boy can dance.”
“Noah,” I snap.
“Whatever. He can dance, but it’s all technical. There’s no passion, no emotion,” Isaac airs the same thought’s I’d had as he walks over to the stereo and fiddles with the music.
“I suppose you’re so different?” I ask.
“Baby, you know I am,” he retaliates striding over to me. Placing his palm on my lower back, Isaac slams my body into his. “Now we’re going to do this right.”
“Do what?” I breathe.
“Tango,” he says, and the music starts. Once again, ‘Santa Maria’ plays, but this time I know it’s going to be different. I can already feel the fraught tension between us, and as Isaac pulls me tighter, I realise this isn’t just a tango. With Noah and I there was space between our bodies, but this is Isaac’s version, and much like the Argentine Tango, we’re chest to chest. He moves me around the floor, both physically and with his aura, which fills the room. I’m a slave to him, to the music, and it infuses every modicum of my being. More than once our chins and the tips of our noses meet at exactly the same time, meaning our lips are mere millimetres apart. It’s frustrating and sexy as fucking hell.
As his legs move and his body grinds against mine with almost every movement, I’m helpless. I’m his.
Looking into his eyes, I see darkness, danger, love, and lust.
Yeah, Isaac James is not, and never has been, a good boy.
Once the song finishes, I pull away and rush to the office. I need to… I have no fucking clue what I need. Every inch of my skin tingles, and as I stop and lean over the desk, I squeeze my legs together desperately trying to control the aching in my core.
“Don’t keep running, Via. This only ends one way,” he promises.
“And that would be?” I rasp.
“With you, admitting you’re mine. Submit to your feelings, you know you want to.” He’s cocky now, but I can clearly hear the want behind his words.
His body presses against my back and a shiver runs through me. I twist my head and neck around until my eyes are locked with his.
“What are you doing?” I ask, my voice betraying the need I’m trying—and failing—to keep locked up.
“I made a mistake, Via. I went against my own nature and was waiting for you to realise you belong to me. I’ve changed my mind, your time’s up, now I’m claiming you. The decision isn’t yours anymore. I can read your body baby, and it agrees with me.” His breath tickles my neck as he speaks and my skin pebbles. “I’ll still explain everything to you in time, I promise. But for right now, I need to make sure your body remembers it’s mine and when you’re ready, your head can catch up.”
Isaac wraps my hair around his fist and pulls my head back running his nose from my collarbone up to my jawline. “Don’t think I’ve gone soft... but I missed your long hair, Via.”
I close my eyes and steady my short, shuddering breaths, trying to calm my chest from the jerky movements I display every time he’s near. “Missing my long hair would make me think you’ve gone soft… how?”
