Hooked #4 (The Hooked Romance Series - Book 4) (7 page)

Suddenly, I heard movement behind me. I spun around
to find Mel standing there, her face a bit pale. I placed my hand over my
mouth, worried. “What is it, Mel?” I asked, rushing toward her. “Is Jackson all
right?”

Mel tried to right her face. She shook her head
several times, trying to smile. “I’m sorry, Molly. I’m sorry I missed rehearsal
tonight. I just—I just felt I needed to go see someone. I needed to talk to someone.”

I raised my eyebrow. “Talk to someone?
About what?”

“It’s complicated.” Mel lowered
herself
to the floor and I sat down next to her.

“All right.
Well. You can tell me, you know.”

She brought her hand to my face and touched my ear.
“Listen, darling Molly.
You know you’re my best friend in
the city.”

“You’re my only friend in the city,” I replied,
laughing. It was true, of course. I had no one else.

She showed me all her teeth, grinning in such
perfect order. “I wouldn’t do anything to hurt you. In fact, I want everything
to work out for you. You’ve worked harder than anyone I know to get this dance
studio up and running.”

I nodded slowly, thinking back on all the tumultuous
days of the past two years. It had all been too much, in so many ways. “I couldn’t
have done it without my assistant.”

But Mel just waved her hand in front of her face,
shaking her head. “No. This was all you, darling. This was all you. Remember
that.” She stood, suddenly, and began pacing the floor. “I don’t know how to
tell you this.
In fact.
Maybe I should just show you.”

I stood up as well. The curiosity of the moment was
killing me. I placed my hands on my hips, beginning to feel worried. “What is
it, Mel?”

She spun around, her eyes bright. “I think you
should run over to the old dance studio. I think you should go there.
Now.”

I flung my hands in the air, suddenly angry. “What
the hell? I know that that bastard bought the place, and that he tore it down.
I also know that he paid for my loans,
like
I was his
fucking charity case. What is there for me to find out at the old dump? Has it
opened? Can I buy a dumb book from the Femme Fatale bookstore?” I felt like I
was ranting, and I was.

But Mel just shook her head. She lowered her chin,
looking down at the ground. “If you don’t like what you see there tonight, you
can blame me for everything.” She made eye contact with me with a sudden jolt.
“You can blame me for him.
For everything.
And I’ll
leave you alone forever.”

My heart sank into my stomach. Why was she
threatening me? I stomped my foot like a child. “What do you—“

“Just go!” she cried.

I grabbed my coat, suddenly frightened. I rushed
down the steps, wrapping my scarf around my neck. Outside, the rushing
mentality of the last day of October coated every area of Wicker Park. I saw
small children dressed in immaculate costumes; I saw nearly-naked women wearing
nurse outfits and laughing with their breasts high in the air. I saw older men
and women walking together, their hands linked in solidarity against all the
terrors of youth.

I rushed on toward my old dance studio. What was Mel
up to? And what had she meant when she said it was all her fault? What sort of
meeting had she been at today that made her act like such a crazy person in the
dance studio?

I didn’t know. The endorphins from the fast jog
through Wicker Park were pulsing in my veins. I made a mad dash in the midst of
a group of scary looking clowns, and they each reached out for my arms, pulling
me back until I could get away. My heart beat faster.

CHAPTER
EIGHT

I rounded the coffee shop where I’d met Drew for the
first time, and I saw the very pimpled man who had sold us our coffees. What a
guy; he hadn’t known what he was getting me into, I thought.
Just
a simple sandwich; a simple coffee.
Nothing was simple.

Finally, I flung myself around the last corner, to
Le Moyne Street. Gasping, I stood with my hands on my knees, gazing up at it:
at my dance studio. My jaw dropped.

That’s right. The dance studio remained standing. It
wasn’t crumbled; it was still so beautiful—that aged building from one hundred
years before, with its haggard brick, with its gleaming, perfect windows. I
walked toward it, finally, after I regained my strength. I brought my hands
forward, wanting to touch it, to be a part of its daydream.

But suddenly, he was there. Drew flung open the
door, meeting me at the window. He stood looking at me with those large,
gleaming blue eyes. He shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly.
“Ta-da!”

I was shaking suddenly. I placed my hands on his
extended forearms, not sure if I was going to fall over or not. I took a step
forward, my eyes peering up at him. “What—what’s happened to your book store?”

Drew thought this was hilarious. He leaned his head
back and started laughing chaotically. I could feel the vibrations of his
laughter through my arms, through my veins. I shook him lightly, trying to get
a sense for him.

“No, Molly. No. We didn’t destroy it. We wouldn’t
destroy it. It’s yours.”

I tilted my head to the right and walked around him,
back into the studio. I still felt like I was in a sort of daydream. I spun
around in a circle into a poetic pirouette. He shut the door behind him,
leaving us in a perfect haze of color, of light, even in the midst of the
darkness outside.

“You’re a wonderful dancer,” Drew whispered, leaning
against the wall. He watched as I twirled with such exhilaration, such joy.

“I didn’t make it.”

“You made it, Molly,” he murmured.
“In my mind.
You’re still dancing. You’re still living. This
is what making it is. I don’t know what the other rules imply.”

I stopped spinning and turned to him, my eyes like
puppy dog eyes: gleaming, sad. I walked toward him and brought my hands
forward. “We should dance together,” I whispered playfully. “I know you were
trained, after all.”

He tilted his head at me and removed the phone from
his pocket, allowing illustrious classical music to emanate through the room.
My eyes closed as I listened to it. “I feel like I’m floating on a cloud. This
is my happy place.” But then, all at once, I blinked up at him, confused. “Why
didn’t you destroy it, really? I know you had big plans for this lot. What’s to
become of your bookshop? And doesn’t this still technically belong to you?” I
demanded so many things of him. My voice was suddenly harsh. The classical
music still buzzed around me, but I needed to know so many things. I had to
know.

He took a step back, wiping at his brow. “Honestly.
When I saw you that day, I knew how upset you were. I didn’t know this was your
place. I really liked you, Molly. And I didn’t want to do anything to hurt you.
But my business advisor told me we’d lose big if—if we gave up on this lot. So,
to be honest, we were going to destroy it anyway.” He swallowed as I continued
to glare at him. “Ultimately, there were a few safety concerns when we began
inspecting it for destruction. Turns out this building—
“ he
tapped the brick walls—“isn’t coming down unless it wants to.”

“And it doesn’t,” I said, looking around me.

“No it’s not.” Drew looked at me with such steaming
eyes. He reached into his pocket and found the keys. He dangled them in front
of my eyes, allowing the light to catch on them.

I grinned and grasped them in my hands.
“And the loan—?”

He waved his hand in front of his face. “It’s
stupid. I just—I messed up the timing. I was thinking if I paid that loan, you
wouldn’t be out any money. After all, you started leasing that new place that
you really can’t afford. I just didn’t want you to be out any money because of
me.”

I nodded, understanding.
“So.
I’ll pay you that money back.
Over the course of a few
years?”

He shrugged.
“Only if you want to.
If you want, you can put that money back in this place. It’s quite beautiful.
And it’s so uniquely yours, you know?”

I nodded at him. I placed my hands on his chest and
reached up to kiss him. Our lips were so soft against each other; I felt like I
would melt.

“Now.
If you don’t dance with me, I’ll never forgive you,” I whispered in his ear,
making him shake. He grabbed my back and lifted me, twirling me in a tight
circle. I laughed, bringing my body into its natural, ballerina position in the
air. I stretched forth, lifting my arm to the sun.

The song wavered around us, forcing us to dance
languidly, beautifully. After the song ended, Drew placed his finger over his
mouth and rushed to the phone, changing the station. The beat quickened,
forcing him to snap his fingers over and over. He spun toward me, “
Ain’t
Misbehaving,” playing from his phone speaker. I
leaned down, laughing with such passion, such energy. I couldn’t believe this
big-time businessman knew Louis Armstrong.

He swept me into his arms and we circled the dance
studio, feeling the heat from each other’s bodies as we danced. I could feel
the way his body formed into mine; we could sense what the other was going to
do next. I bit my lip, laughing for a moment as we went. “My, you’re good!” I
called
as he spun me out and back in again
.

After this song, it was many more. We danced until
the sweat drizzled down our faces and our spines. And then, we were heaving,
unable to catch our breath anymore. I touched his perfect face, feeling myself
falling for him all over again.

“So.
Do you think you can forgive me?” he asked.

I reached my head up toward him, bringing my lips
into his. I wrapped my hand around his neck, gliding my tongue deeply into his
mouth. I felt the heat of his body as he pulled me in close to him. I wrapped
my legs around him as we kissed passionately for a few moments, memorizing the
way our mouths moved, remembering the way the electricity seemed to jolt
through us each time we adjusted, each time we touched.

Finally, the passion got too strong. He pushed me
against the wall on the other side of the dance studio. With my legs still
wrapped around his chest, he began to undo my shirt and bra. He threw my
clothes into the side room, and I glittered before him with sweat, with
passion. He placed his mouth around my nipple, and glided his tongue around the
red, dribbling it back and forth, making me call out for him. “Oh, Drew. Oh,
Drew.”

“You like that?” he whispered.

I nodded, feeling my face grow red. He kept my legs
wrapped around his chest, and he ripped at my panties, allowing them to fall to
the ground, revealing my dripping, hot pussy. He brought me higher up on his
body, forcing me to wrap my legs around his neck. He placed his tongue in my
dripping pussy and began to glide his tongue up and down my clit tenderly,
making me begin to sweat. I grabbed my tits and placed my fingernails in my
skin, nearly drawing blood.

“More, baby. More,” I sighed.

He continued to glide his tongue along my clit until
he brought forth two fingers and pressed it into my steamy hot pussy. With his
tongue still on my clit, and two fingers inside me, I felt like my mind was
about to explode. My chest heaved as he did this, over and over, until I nearly
came.

And then: he stopped.

I grabbed my head, nodding at him, pleading with him
to keep going. But he removed his two fingers. He allowed me back on the ground
gently and began removing his own clothes. He unbuttoned each of his buttons,
continually eyeing me and my naked body as it gleamed from sweat, from near-cum
in the middle of the room. Looking around, I couldn’t believe that I’d taught
dance in that room; that this area of sexual passion had once been an area in
which I’d taught over-fifty year olds how to plié.

He removed his pants, revealing his great, pulsing
cock. It stood straight out beneath his stunning abs. I stood and walked toward
him, placing my fingers on his abs, tracing them completely. “You’re so fucking
hot,” I murmured.

And he pushed me up against the wall once more. He
grabbed my tits and brought his dick into me, making me sigh with relief, with
passion. I called out into the Halloween night like a wolf. I grabbed his ear
with my teeth and yanked, tracing his ear with my tongue. He thrust over and
over into my dripping pussy, and I gasped as he did it. “Come on. Harder, baby.
Harder.”

“You want harder?”

He removed his cock from my pussy and forced me on
the ground, on my stomach. He crawled over me and thrust his cock into me. I
lifted my head off the ground with pleasure, feeling him deep inside me. “Oh,
god,” I murmured as he began to ride me. I grabbed my tits and opened my mouth
with each thrust. I couldn’t open my eyes. It was all too much; too much
stimulation.

He nearly came then. He shuddered, trying to stop
himself. He brought his cock from my pussy and breathed for a moment, taking a
short walk around the room. He turned toward me,
laying
still on my stomach in the middle of the floor. “Turn over,” he ordered.