She grabbed his face, fisting her fingers in his hair. “Dima. I mean it. We can’t keep putting this off. I need more.”
“I know,” he whispered, forehead to hers. “I promise. We’ll make this right. I’m not letting you go.”
Like inhaling helium, her body became lighter, floating in his arms. “I love you and I love what you just said, but it won’t be enough.”
He thunked her fists against his skull. “You want in here? Fine. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.” With a curious blink, he straightened and looked at her with a slight frown. Total confusion. “You love me?”
“Very much.”
“Lizzie, not just friends. I can’t.”
“Best friends. The rest too. All of it,” she added, licking his salty shoulder and biting into the meat of his hard muscle. “Like I said that night. With us alone. You’re my rock and my calm. I know I didn’t say it right and you didn’t hear it right, but I was trying to tell you how much you mean to me. All those pieces and facets. Are you hearing me, Dima mine?”
“My little one,” he rasped.
Big hands cupped the back of her head and brought her mouth up for another kiss, this one long and indulgent. The pulse of urgency shone through at the edges as they rode the waves of a solid post-performance high. At least they started sweet.
It was exactly that. A new start.
Hip to hip, he revealed his excitement and his need. Lizzie tipped her head back to the wall…reveling. Dima was hers to hold.
“Love you,” he whispered against her neck. “
Ja ljublju tebja
, my Lizzie. My little one. Can I tell you that now? Will you deny me?”
“Never again.”
“I’m done too. I need you too much.”
The words were a balm across so many hurts, the least of which was her tender knee. She dragged him closer. Maybe if they tried hard enough, they could melt skin to skin. Distance would never be a problem again. Inside one another was the only answer.
Tongues first, followed by his fingers sliding between her thighs. What a choice. Hear more of Dima’s sweet words, hoping for them like wringing water from a stone…or keep touching.
“I dream,” he said on a groan as her fingers found his prick. Maybe they could do both.
“Tell me?”
“I dream so big and so often that they scare me.”
“Scare you? Dima, why?”
“Most of them are bigger than me. I’m not…” He shook his head. “I’m afraid of not being man enough to see them come true. The planning, Lizzie? All of my plans? It’s the only way I know to keep the doubts at bay.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Dima had his hands on the prize. He didn’t need anything but Lizzie. Pressed up against the wall, halfway down the corridor to his dressing room, anyone could come along and see them. He barely cared. He took her mouth again, not ready to hear her talk. Not yet. Too much more he needed to say.
“I’ve never told you because it’s easier that way. If I’m the only one who knows the plan, I’m also the only one disappointed.”
Her hand framed his cheek. “Do you really believe that?”
“I don’t want to let anyone down.” His mouth found the line of her throat. He licked since he’d been unleashed and he couldn’t keep from touching her. “My parents depended on me, not that I managed to save them from themselves. You did too. Better not to disappoint you, of all people.”
Her fingers gripped his cock, stroked through the material of his pants. “I still knew when you were upset. That you never talked to me about it… Dima, it hurt. I just want you. I want to know it all.”
He couldn’t do this in the hallway anymore. Grabbing Lizzie by the wrist, he pulled her along until they reached his dressing room. Right before he snapped the door shut behind him, he caught sight of Paul at the end of the hallway. For the moment, this was his and Lizzie’s business. He snapped the lock shut.
Lizzie stepped backwards. On her lips she wore a hint of the grin he loved so much. Her chest jerked on harsh breaths, as if they were still dancing.
He supposed they were. There would always be dance with him and Lizzie.
Warm and frightening at the same time, the word “always” unfurled in his chest.
She lifted her hands out to the side and wiggled her fingers in a tiny challenge. “Come on, Dmitri,” she goaded in Russian. “Give me your biggest dream. The one you’ve never even said out loud to yourself, much less anyone else.”
“Marriage.” The word snapped out of him, burning his tongue, teeth, lips with its daring. He held down the shakes that threatened to follow in its wake. Instead he filled his hands with his wonder, cupped Lizzie’s hips and lifted her to the counter. “Marriage to you. Be my Lizzie, forever.”
Her eyes softened and her mouth went slack. “Oh.”
He closed his eyes and lowered his forehead to her temple. The entirety of his body curled around her, shielding. Because even if she said no, he still needed to say it. “Marriage. Babies. A place of our own someday. Maybe a dance studio. Maybe a club like this. Who knows. But on the way, we’d stop by Hollywood and work there.”
She laughed shakily. Her hands rose to the back of his neck. Fine tremors worked over his skin from the touch. “How could you keep all of that in? For so long? You dream so big.”
“Don’t you see? So many things to go wrong.” He swallowed hard. “So many places I could still fuck it up. If you really need to go back to the circuit, something still to prove, we’ll do that instead.”
“I don’t. I like the sound of your ride a hell of a lot better.”
“You’re sure?”
“Oh, yeah.” She grinned. “I dare you to tell me tonight wasn’t the best dance we’ve ever had. I’d be an idiot to give that up.”
His gaze flicked over her features, landing on those steady green eyes. “Lizzie, are you saying…? Will you marry me?”
“Absolutely.”
How much he adored her faith in him, and how much it scared him too. He took her mouth with a hard, sweeping kiss that revealed everything he was still working up the courage to say. Those thoughts came out as whispers against her skin, as his mouth skated over her neck, her shoulders, her breasts.
“I’ve taken you for granted for so long,” she said softly, her words sliding between them. “How could I not? Fifteen years of being safe and loved and completely understood. You’ve always been there for me. That didn’t mean you always would be. When I think about you and Svetlana…” Her voice broke.
“I told her no.” Dima gathered her close. “It wasn’t even a choice, in the end. I’m yours, little one.”
Their touches ramped so fast. More kisses. More hungry need to prove the words true. The press of her lips was drugging and heady, spinning him into the air. Leaps that never came down.
He rucked her skirt back up, shoved his pants down past his hips. A condom made a fast-scramble appearance. He pushed into her with one deep thrust. They froze. Lizzie’s nails scored his skin. She hissed, and he slowly withdrew until only his head balanced in her wet sheathe.
“Dima mine,” she breathed. Her eyes were hazy, but she didn’t look away. Locked gazes. Her intensity worked down his spine.
He shifted her pelvis forward a fraction, until each of his strokes earned one of those fabulous, airy gasps. The next flurry of strokes turned gasps into moans. He covered her mouth with one hand.
“Uh-uh, little one,” he purred. He couldn’t keep the smile out of his voice, even if it made her shoot daggers at him. “You have to be quieter than that in my dressing room.”
She tucked her fingers around his hand, pulled it off her mouth. “
Our
dressing room.”
He chuckled, but it was strained by the effort of holding back his climax. “Yes, ours. Seems appropriate. This is where we started, after all.”
“No more Pauls, though.”
He hitched her knee over his elbow, jacked her higher. “Not without talking to me first.”
She must have liked that, because her pussy clenched down hard on his cock. Her eyes fluttered shut, her face turned to the side, reflected back by the big mirror behind her. Her hands spread over his chest in absolute trust, letting him set their pace.
There, Dima lost his control. That trust. Everything he’d wanted and been afraid to ask for.
The moves turned jerky. Harder. Lizzie’s pelvis lifted toward him. She groaned, low and soft when he fucked hard enough that her back squeaked against the mirror. She shoved her own hand in her mouth, the meat of her palm at her teeth.
She was slick and hot and perfect. Everything. Always. He couldn’t hold it anymore. With his thumb between them on her clit, he amped it up again. The pleasure cut loose. She came only seconds ahead of him, scratching her nails down his chest and burying her scream against his neck.
He slapped a hand flat on the mirror, his orgasm cutting him loose at the knees. Tingles ran down his legs, shook out his arms. Burned through his body in a flash of
Holy Mother, yes
.
Only through the aftermath of soft kisses and straightening clothes did he realize their door was suspiciously quiet. Normally after a performance like that he would’ve been flooded with fans and dancers offering quick congratulations.
He pulled Lizzie’s skirt back down over her hips. “Just to confirm… You’re marrying me, yes?”
She smiled, so brilliantly. Lit up so brightly that he drank up warmth from even being near her. “Yes, Dima mine. I’ll marry you.”
“Good,” he sighed, kissing her again. “But now…” He strode toward the door and yanked it open.
As he’d suspected, Paul waited outside. He looked back over his shoulder and grinned. “I’ve been shooing people away.”
Dima laughed, clapping him on the back. “Thanks, my friend.”
Lizzie appeared at Dima’s side, tucking under his arm. God, she belonged there. With her arm looped around his back, tracing little patterns down his spine, she stretched up on her toes to kiss Paul. The exchange was less intense than he’d seen them trade before, but they still lingered like lovers. Such a pretty picture they made, two sunshine people. Dima didn’t mind at all because once she was done, Lizzie snuggled back along his side. Her free hand spread flat over his stomach.
“Really, thank you,” she said. “I’m not even sure I can list all the awesome.”
Paul shook his head. “I’d have done it all over again in a nanosecond. There’s just something good about the two of you together. And something
really
good about what you did to me.” His grin was a beautiful thing. Tiny lines fanned out from his eyes. “You’re out of time, though. Declan came by, said you have five minutes to get out there and talk to him.”
“I’m surprised he didn’t run upstairs to check his screens,” Lizzie said with a grin. “Now, let’s go wow ’em all.”
“That’s your job.” Christ, how good did that sound? Because they were right again, the pieces of the puzzle finally snapping together in truth.
Dima followed her out to the main area of the club, Paul in turn behind him. His little one tossed up her hands at the entrance, striking quite a pose. Applause started in a wash and slammed upwards into a roar. From the back of the room came a rolling stomp of feet. Dima knew what he was supposed to do—cross his arms and look intimidating and solid—so he did so. Let her take this one on. She played up to the crowd, blowing kisses and doing a couple hip shimmies.
Eventually she pranced to where Declan held court. The man reclined with one of his usual girls at his side.
They didn’t quite get there before Svetlana planted herself in their path. She sniffed down her nose. “You are not the man I thought you were, Dmitri. That dance…” She shuddered. “Completely crass.” She skewed Lizzie with a glare made of daggers. “I am unsurprised considering your choice in partners.”
Dima folded an arm over Lizzie’s shoulders. “I’m unsurprised you think so, but I’ve everything I need.”
“Broadway,” she practically shrieked. “My backers are not going to stick around if I can’t bring them Dmitri Turgenev.”
Lizzie chuckled. “Oh, that’s priceless. Nice one, Sveti. Well done.”
Dmitri couldn’t find it in himself to wish the woman ill, not after two years together. “I hope you find what you’re looking for, Sveta. It isn’t going to be me.”
She shot Lizzie another evil look. “I hope you ruin your other knee,” she hissed. “
Idi na fig
.”
With that, she flounced off through the crowd, a mass of fake hair fluttering behind her.
Lizzie flipped her off. “Does she think I don’t know what she said? Go fuck yourself? Really? And she called
you
crass. Silly cow.”
“Come on, little one.” He took her hand. “This is a happy night.”
She smiled up at him. “Hell yes, it is. Let’s go make it even better.” On she pushed toward Declan’s table.
The man wore a pale pink button-down shirt open to his abs. “Quite the show. Congratulations on your reunion.” The smirk on his mouth said he meant it in every sense.
Dima smirked right back. “It’s about time,” he agreed.
Declan snapped his fingers and someone stuck a clipboard in his hand. “You know what these are, right?”
Lizzie laughed. “I’m assuming they’re contracts?”
He nodded, grinning like a maniac. He held them out, along with a pen. “Same terms as before for Dima, plus same for you.”