I cross my arms and lean back against the wall. A knot forms in my stomach and suddenly I feel kind of like time has stopped altogether. I’m about two seconds away from leaving the showing, when Rafe approaches me. I almost don’t recognize him. The slicked back hair paired with the bright violet-colored suit he’s wearing works for him. Only someone like Rafe could get away with such a creation.
“Erin, my love, there you are. I have looked everywhere for you.” He takes my hand and leads me toward the dressing rooms where the models Luca hired are preparing to go on stage. Outside in the main room, a song starts playing, a tune by Madonna called
Some Girls
. Luca chose a disco theme even though Alek’s show involves a symphony.
The song’s lyrics touch me. The singer basically tells the guy how she’s unique and that there’s no other girl in the world closer to his dreams. I steal another peek at Alek and Lila. She’s doing her best to work her charms on him. And then he leans over and whispers something in her ear.
A rush of energy flows through me. Mr. Dostov wants to play rough. I intend to give it to him. I pick my confidence up off the floor, and like Katerina did the night I had dinner with them, I put on my bitch face.
The show begins. The models work my outfits with no problem. Chills shower my body as I watch them head out one by one. Luca gives me a high five each time we hear the crowd applaud loudly. He also has a few pieces from his line for the Metrosexual man thrown in near the end. There is no doubt about it, Black Butterfly shines. Standing along the sides of the stage, Carla and I dance with each other.
“As beautiful as the two of you may look dancing together, I need to borrow you, Erin,” Rafe says and pulls me toward the stage before I realize what’s happening.
“Wait. I’m not going up on there,” I say, panic rising in my chest.
“No worries, hotness. You’re the luckiest girl in here tonight. You’ve pulled off a successful showing. Now you have two of the hottest bachelors in Italy about to escort you out on stage,” Rafe says loudly, his dark eyes swimming with excitement. I can smell the alcohol on his breath, and I’m thinking he’s a bit too tipsy to even consider walking up on a stage. Sober models fall off the platform all the time.
“Are we ready?” Luca asks as he approaches us. Carla trails behind him. Both of us are wearing black mini dresses. The only difference between the two is that mine has a small train of red fabric in back that ends just below my ankles. I’m also wearing a cropped leather jacket to preserve modesty. The rebel in me fires to life.
Think about Alek and Red sitting out there.
And you should strut like a queen after you take it off.
“You know what,” I say to Luca, “I don’t think I’ve been more ready for anything.” I remove the jacket, exposing my bare shoulders and generous chest. My boldness makes me think Rafe might’ve given me a cup of spiked punch.
That’s not what it is and you know it. Live.
Let him see what you can do.
“That’s my hot girl. There’s only one more thing we need to fix here.” Rafe reaches behind my head and releases my bun. My dark, wavy hair falls loose, cascading over my shoulders and down my back. Rafe crushes me against him in too tight of an embrace. Pulling away, I glance back at Luca just before we head toward the stairway leading up to the stage.
With my mind spinning and my belly buzzing, I step out into the spotlight after the announcer introduces the designers of the Black Butterfly Design House.
Cameras flash from all directions as Rafe, Luca, Carla, and I stroll down the stage, stopping at the end. There’s too much going on for me to be able to see anything at first. I have no idea when we pass by Alek and his family. I do now understand why so many models sometimes tumble off the stage. At the end, Luca and Carla take a short bow, posing for the cameras. And then they turn around and leave. Now only Rafe and I remain onstage.
He points at me, as I stand there in the spotlight. But I feel conflicted. Pieces of old memories race through my head. I think of Jada and my smile fades, but the flashes around me continue. I’m lost in thoughts of the things my sister will never get the chance to do when I feel a mouth clamp down on mine.
Holy Hell! Rafe is kissing me in front of the entire fashion industry’s most influential.
I freeze at once. We’ll be headlining the next edition of the
Corriere.
I bet my next paycheck on it!
He backs away, beaming. The crowd roars and most of the people rise to their feet. I’m too stunned by what Rafe just did to truly be able to enjoy the moment. I can’t very well smack the shit out of my boss in front of every single fashion guru. So I shrug it off and make a mental note to remind him to please keep his lips to himself from now on. I make a small finger wave at the audience.
We turn around and head back toward the dressing rooms. This time the flashes from the camera are behind me. I have a clear view of Alek’s face as we pass by his group sitting on the front row. His lips are pinched together and turned up in the upside down pouty-lip thing he does when someone pisses him off during rehearsals. I inhale and hold my breath. He locks gazes with me, following my body until I pass by.
“Go, Erin!” Adriana calls out to me. Her expression is the total opposite in appearance than her brother's.
Serves him right
.
Then again, maybe I shouldn’t be playing with fire
.
Several prominent press members wait for us after we leave the stage. Feeling overwhelmed and nauseous, I satisfy them by answering as many questions as I can before I finally get the chance to sneak away. I need a moment to get over everything that just happened. I’ve never been the star of a showing before, and my belly swirls with anxiety and nerves and a lot of other things.
I head into one of the manager’s fancy offices in the back of the building, lean against the wall, and recall a conversation Jada and I had a long time ago. My sister told me that one day we’d walk across the stage together, two sisters bowing after a grand performance. I smirked that day, disbelieving her.
She would’ve been so proud of me, and I would’ve felt the same way about her. Now she’ll never have the chance to shine the same way I just did. The agony of the moment rips through me more so than the success of my first showing. I’m so fucking backwards. Why can’t I ever believe in something good?
A noise snatches me out of the pity pool. I let out a relieved sigh. I need to stop being such a drag and play the moment up to the fullest.
I inhale sharply as my gaze focuses on the cause of
the noise I just heard. Alek has just stepped through the door. “How did you find me?” I ask, sounding weak.
He doesn
’t smile or move or say anything for the longest moment. “Would you rather I go get Martuccio for you?” he asks, smirking. I’ve learned that his Russian accent deepens when he gets heated.
“Sure thing. That is if you can manage to keep Red from hanging all over you long enough to do so,” I answer. The brief flicker of a smile crosses his lips just before his expression darkens.
The heated tension flying between us right now could electrocute an elephant. “I haven’t even kissed you that way yet,” he says in measured words. “Do you enjoy teasing me, Erin?” Inching toward me, he has the wildest look in his eyes that I’ve ever seen before.
“That’s not a fair question, and you know it.” I’m feeling brave. Probably a stupid way to feel considering the pissed off Maestro in front of me looks like he’s about ready to devour me. And I’m not really sure if that’s a good thing or not. His dark gaze looks on me in a way that makes me feel weak and exposed. He closes the distance between us and places his hands on the wall, trapping me between his palms.
“Have you thought about my proposal?” he asks.
“Honestly, no,” I lie. His offer has been all I’ve been able to think about for the past few nights.
Alek moves one hand away from the wall and brings it around to caress my hair. The navy blue shirt and black slacks he wears makes him look more like one of the designers here tonight than a world famous Maestro. The top three buttons near his collar are undone, exposing the tanned skin of his chest. The whole outfit shows off his tapered frame. Yeah, he’s hot, smoldering even. He’s a lot of things that go with fire. I better be careful or I’m going to get burned.
All of those qualities thrown in together with his accent, the way he’s staring at me, and my all-around distressed state of mind leave me thinking that my willpower doesn’t stand a chance.
“Let me kiss you, Ms. Angelo. I want to give you a tiny hint of what we can be together,” he says and lowers his lips to my neck before I can say anything.
“I told you, I don’t do the kissing on the lips thing so well,” I answer, my breaths increasing.
“You have two sets of lips, yes?” he whispers in my ear, the heat of his breath firing through me. The thought behind his words making me wet at once.
Holy Hell
! Did he just ask me what I think he did?
“Are both sets of lips off limits? Tell me, Erin.” He’s now conveniently pushed his body in between my legs, parting them.
My arms move around him, clinging to his muscular frame. In return, he lifts my ass and thighs up to his waist and carries me over to the couch, gently laying me down, rubbing his hard cock against me as he does so.
“Did you enjoy the way he kissed you, Erin?” he whispers in my ear, his lips never easing up on the torturous combination of breathy whispers and nibbles. “Answer me.”
“I—I, cannot believe you are asking me that right now,” I gasp out against his ear.
“Maybe you prefer his kiss over mine,” he says as he continues to nibble along my neck, avoiding my lips. One of his hands palms my crotch, massaging it. By instinct, I begin to grind my hips against him. "Did you hear what I said?"
Are you insane?
“I don’t want anything Rafe has.”
“That’s not telling me what I want to know,” he says, his hand pushing harder against my crotch.
“I don’t want him to kiss me,” I answer.
Lifting up and relieving me of his heated attack on my neck, he glances deep in my eyes and says, “I’m asking for the permission to kiss you this time,” he whispers. I’m gasping too hard to say anything that would make sense, so I make a little nod of the head. I can't ever recall a time when I've been this attracted to a man before. Lust at first sight was always something I managed to hold at bay. I had control over myself. But Alek just does something inside me. “You’ll beg me to kiss these lips, before I’m done here,” he says as he runs a thumb over my mouth, a tease of the kiss I’m actually about to receive.
Holy hell! I believe every word he just said.
I cling to him, my legs still wrapped around his waist. The scent of his cologne and the feel of his hands exploring my body overpower me. Rafe doesn’t stand a chance against the way this man causes my desire to spiral out of control. But Alek’s kiss doesn’t involve my lips though; at least not the ones Rafe kissed anyway.
Moving his mouth down to my breasts, he sucks and nibbles on the exposed flesh. He mutters something in Russian that I don’t understand. “What did you say?” I ask through my panting breath.
“I said you’re fucking gorgeous,” he answers without easing up one bit. A groan escapes him, and the feel of his breath on my skin sends quivers through me: my nipples, my belly, between my legs. The Maestro has my body singing a song of pleasure, and I have no doubt he can work me over until we reach the end.
One of his hands slides down my left thigh, eventually finding its way up under my dress this time. My breath hitches as his fingers slides in-between my thong, parting the sensitive folds surrounding my clit. My belly squeezes and a small whimper escapes my lips. “Do you like the way I’m touching you, Erin?” He smiles, a wicked one as he uses the pad of his thumb to further arouse me. The circular motion not only makes me wetter, but it also sends little jolts of tense pleasure through my body, each one increasing in intensity over the last one. “I can’t hear you.”
“Yes!” I cry out, my body aching for more.
"I already knew the answer to that question. I just wanted to make you say it.” The arrogant fucker knows he has me right where he wanted me to be all along. He eases up his assault on my clit, leaving me writhing in afterthoughts and even a bit angry because he's taking so freakin' long to do as he says.
“Would you like for me to kiss you now?”
“Yes! Damn it! Yes, okay?” I shout.
Oh boy, I asked for it.
Crouching on his knees, he cradles my thighs and then lifts me up so that my legs are now spread apart and wrapped around his head. He wastes no time moving on to the kiss he promised me. I throw my head back against the couch as he starts to lick me. The pressure of his tongue and the heat of his mouth working together on my clit causes my legs to tremble furiously.
Dying on the floor isn’t an option at this point. I’m hooked, lying on my back, and consumed by pleasure.
My hands move to his head, and I grab a fist full of his hair, pulling it. I buck my hips each time his tongue slides across the exposed part of my clit. He doesn’t miss a single well-timed beat, and he doesn’t slow down. His technique is ruthless, and I don’t know how much more I can take before I either jump up off of this couch or start screaming in pleasure. Grasping my thighs, he pushes his mouth deeper into my flesh, increasing the pressure of his lashing tongue.