The Firefighter and the Virgin Princess (8 page)

"Well, you did wait in the cold for four
hours. What else could I do?"

Around three in the afternoon he fell
asleep. She dressed quickly and silently, slipping out while he
still snored loudly into the pillow.

A cab took her to the NYBT studios and she
was just on time for rehearsal, but her head was still back in that
room with him, the curtains drawn, his heavy limbs sprawled over
hers.

Her body sang with contentment. She was warm
even before she stretched.

"You look happy," Tiffany exclaimed in a
suspicious tone.

"Do I? I had a good breakfast. Probably ate
too much, actually."

The other dancer's lips fell into a jealous
pout and she said nothing else, concentrating instead on the steps
and lifts that were giving her such a hard time.

Lily felt sorry for her. Tiffany couldn't
seem to give her whole self to this dance. She held back, timid and
fearful. Lily, on the other hand, threw her body into those
contortions and frenzied leaps as if it might be the last time she
ever danced. Today she was flying free, nothing holding her to the
earth. It was as if she had nothing to lose suddenly.

He
liked her. A real man in the real world found her appealing
company. He knew nothing about dancing so he did not admire her for
her balance in pirouettes. Joe Rossini just liked her as a
woman.

He was so strong and capable. Lily felt safe
with him. Even the stupid, stuck closet door in that hotel room had
come open easily under his hands. Just as she did.

You have to ease these babies open, 'cos if
you force it they'll just get stuck.

Maybe that was what had happened to her and
ballet. She'd been forcing it lately, not finding much delight
anymore in what was once the love of her life, and then she'd
gotten jammed in place. But that afternoon she was freed again at
last, her runners nicely oiled.

Her adventure with Joe the big-handed
fireman had been an experimental ballet of sorts and it was
successful. Very pleasing and satisfying results had been
achieved.

Suddenly the wintery world of the city
wasn't nearly so gray and she forgot about her myriad aches and
pains. Maybe her hands and feet were a little sloppy that
afternoon, but she really didn't care. She danced for the pure joy
of it, as if everything was new again, and when she watched her
reflection in the mirrored wall of the studio she saw that
happiness shining in her face for the first time in a long, long
while.

* * * *

So she upped and left. Sneaking off while he
slept. Great. He might have known she would.

He laid a while in the rumpled bed and
thought about what just happened there.

Lily Keene was sexy, funny, interesting and
smart. He wanted to know more about her. Everything about her.
Hopefully she was feeling the same about him.

Hard to tell with Nefer-fucking-titi.

One thing was for sure, he mused, eyeing the
empty condom packets that littered the bedside cabinet, she was
going to be sore tomorrow, even if she didn't feel it yet
today.

She'd chosen him to be her first. That must
mean he was special— hopefully in a good way.

He was feeling strangely contemplative. When
his phone buzzed with a text and it was Mike wanting to know where
he was, he didn't feel like answering yet. Joe wanted some time to
think about where he was and what just happened, without sharing
any of it with his big brother.

Mike often disapproved of his choices. He
would certainly say Joe made a mistake getting involved with a girl
like that. Especially taking her to a hotel room and fucking her
brains out on their first date— which she insisted wasn't even a
date. He didn't have her number or know where she lived.

You did
what
? He could hear his brother already.
But Mike never did anything remotely reckless. He'd married his
high school sweetheart, didn't ever seem to be restless or looking
for something more; he did everything by the book. Mike was solid,
responsible. And he could be a real fucking pain in the ass when it
came to his little brother's love life. Part of the problem was
Mike's wife, Sherri. Sherri was always in his ear, telling him that
someone had to sort Joe out; someone had to find Joe a wife to keep
him on the right track. Really, Sherri just wanted an ally in the
battle against her mother-in-law, and she wanted to make sure it
was someone who would be on her side.

But Sherri and Mike's idea of a suitable
girlfriend for Joe didn't quite match up with his. He wasn't about
to settle for something comfortable and expected. He didn't want
routine. That was why he enjoyed his job, despite the horrors he
sometimes witnessed. When he went on shift, he never knew what was
going to happen. It kept his blood hot and lively. He was never
bored. Knowing that he might save a life that day, made him happy
to leap out of bed even when it was frigid cold and pitch black
outside. Made him whistle in the shower, even if the water-heater
was broken.

He wanted a woman that made him feel the
same way and he was pretty sure he'd just found her.

* * * *

Joe went to his mother's house for the
traditional Sunday dinner and was soon absorbed in the noisy bosom
of his family.

"Where were you today?" Mike demanded. "I
thought you were gonna come help me work on the Mustang."

Mike had bought the rusted out lump of junk
several weeks ago— despite his wife's disapproval— and he spent
most Sunday mornings, when he wasn't on shift, in his garage
"working on the Mustang". Joe suspected his brother just needed an
excuse to escape the house for a few hours at the weekend.

"Yeah. Something came
up."
My dick
, he
mused.

His brother studied his face. "You
okay?"

"Yeah, why?"

"I don't know. You seem quiet."

He shrugged, "Maybe I got the flu."

Mike passed him a beer. "Suck that down to
chase the germs away."

The usual questions about his dating life
came up at the table. His mother wanted to know when he would find
a nice girl and settle down.

"Ma, I'm never gonna find a girl who can
cook like you, so why bother?" he replied with a grin.

"Because I won't live forever, Joey. You'll
have to learn to cook for yourself, like your brother."

Down the table Sherri scowled, because she
didn't like being reminded that her husband was a better cook than
she was. Her mother-in-law, on the other hand, liked reminding her
of it. Mrs. Rossini was very proud of her sons and, in truth, no
girl would ever be good enough for them, but it didn't stop her
riding Joe's ass about his bachelor state.

"I bet you got no food in your apartment,
eh?"

"Ma, I got snacks at home. I do fine. I eat
good at the firehouse. And then I eat out."

"That's expensive, Joey. You don't take care
of yourself." His mother reached over to grab his stomach, and then
made a gasp of disgust because she could not find a loose handful
of flesh to squeeze through his t-shirt. "What's that Donna girl
doing?" she exclaimed, tossing another meatball onto his plate.

"I don't know, ma. Seeing someone else, I
guess."

"Now she'll marry some other guy now, eh?
See you let her go and now you'll be sorry."

"Ma, I didn't wanna marry Donna. And you
didn't even like her."

"Meh," she shrugged. "She wore too much
make-up and she cursed. It's not nice to see a pretty girl curse.
It makes them ugly and then no face paint can help."

"See? So it's a good thing she went off me
and found someone else."

His mother shook her head
and tut-tutted, but he knew that was just for show. She was
secretly glad he didn't marry Donna. "What you need, Joey, is a
good girl. A good sweet, honest girl. Pure. Respects herself and
respects you. Not a slut.
Non
putana
!"

Overhearing this from across the table Mike
laughed. "Ma, you think Joe's gonna find a virgin bride in this day
and age? Trust me, there ain't no virgins left in New York."

Sherri shot her husband a dark frown, and he
hastily got on with his meal.

Joe couldn't resist a smug smile as he
lifted his beer bottle to his lips. "Hey, don't be so sure about
that."

A moment later Mike's two daughters ran into
the dining room, chasing each other around the table, one of them
in a pink fairy outfit, hitting her sister on the head with a
glittery, star-topped wand.

Sherri put down her glass of wine to yell,
"Antonia! What did I tell you about hitting your sister? And don't
run inside the house. Go outside if you wanna run."

"It's cold outside. Let them run in here,"
their grandmother exclaimed. "They can't hurt anything." She
captured the little fairy on her way by and scooped her up for a
hug.

Joe was always amused to see how lenient his
mother was with her grandkids. If that was him and Mike running
around the house as boys they would both have got a slap around the
head. But in their day they played out in the street and didn't
come home until it was dark. Things were different then.

"Antonia, tell your uncle Joe what you want
to be when you grow up."

The little girl gave a gap-toothed grin. "A
fairy!"

"That's not what you said earlier."

"Oh... a ballerina," the child exclaimed,
hitting her grandmother on the head with that wand. "I wanna be a
ballerina."

Joe set his bottle down in a hurry and
swallowed a gulp of beer.

Across the table, Mike muttered, "Thirty
dollars a week. Hundred and twenty dollars a month— for four,
one-hour long Saturday morning lessons. Let's hope she finds
something cheaper she wants to be."

"You like the ballet, Antonia?" Joe looked
at his little niece.

She nodded.

Joe had been looking for something to do
with his nieces, because they weren't into football or baseball—
not yet anyway. And now he could take them to see Lily. His heart
was beating hard and fast when he thought about Lily.

He didn't like that she'd snuck off without
a goodbye that afternoon, or that he didn't even have her number.
Usually girls pestered him to call them and they would definitely
sulk if he took off right after sex. Lily, though, was pretty
casual about the whole thing, despite giving him her virginity. She
reminded him of a shy bird in the park coming to peck at the
breadcrumbs he threw down, but reluctant to get too close, watching
him with one curious, wary eye. If he tried to catch her, she'd fly
off and it would take longer to regain her trust. So he'd play it
cool.

"Maybe I'll take you and your sister to see
the New York Ballet Theater. Would you like that, Antonia?"

"You?" Mike snorted. "What do you know about
the ballet? Do you even know where the New York Ballet Theater
is?"

"Sure."

"Since when?"

"Hey, I know a lot of things. And this way
I'll get to spend time with my favorite girls."

His brother gave him a narrow-eyed look, but
their mother patted his hand. "That's a very nice thing to do,
Joey. You're a good uncle."

He grinned. "Yeah, I am, ain't I?"

* * * *

He sent a small bunch of flowers and a note
to the theater. It was waiting by her dressing room mirror on
Monday evening.

Princess,

You didn't leave me a phone number, but I
assume you have one so call me. Anytime.

I want to see you again. We don't have to
call it a date.

Regular Joe (See I got to the point. I
wasn't circuitous)

And he'd written his phone number along the
bottom of the paper.

Reading the note again,
she sighed deeply. He was cute. Very. But she shouldn't let him
distract her more than he had already. She'd trained all these
years to be a dancer; that was her sole focus. There was no time or
space for dating in her life, was there?
Was there
?

That morning in class the director had
spoken to her, complimented her "line" in an arabesque. Her hip
wasn't stiff and her foot wasn't hurting. Maybe Joe had done
something magical to her. Or he'd simply taken her mind off it for
a while.

As she exited the stage that night she
encountered one of the lead male dancers who smiled at her, winked
and said, "Whatever you're doing, keep doing it. You look fabulous
tonight, good enough to eat, sweety."

Lily didn't know what to say to that, so she
laughed and blushed. A compliment from a gay dancer was high praise
indeed.

Maybe it had done her good to have something
other than dance to think about for once. She looked at her face in
the mirror and saw the sparkle in her eyes, the confident glow in
her cheeks. Amazing the difference he'd made after just one morning
in his company.

Reading Joe's note again, she felt a smile
play over her lips, but it was so shy she daren't look up and see
it in the mirror.

If she met him just once more it surely
couldn't do any harm. Once more.

The sex was too much for her to resist. His
body invaded her dreams, and not just those she had at night, but
those she occasionally wandered into during daylight hours too.

Chapter Six

They met three times over the next week,
always going to the same hotel, sometimes barely talking. The
meetings weren't scheduled in advance. She would just call him
suddenly and ask if he was free for an hour or so. Yeah, it was
damn sexy, kept him on his toes.

On the fourth occasion he insisted they take
a horse and carriage ride through Central Park, as if they were
tourists. She said she'd never done it, despite living more than
ten years in the city. There wasn't much, it seemed, that she had
done there apart from dance.