Read Online The Fated Dance: Bound to the Shadow Dancer by Leeann Whitaker - Free Book Online
Authors: Leeann Whitaker
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a sexual manner.” I keep my voice as quiet as possible, arching over the table.
“Yes Jen, we’ve already highlighted that,” he sighs. “Would you like to tie me to a chair?”
“Seriously?” I’m unsure whether to take that with a pinch of salt or not.
“If that’s what you need,” he replies, stone-faced.
“No!”
“Well, continue,” he gestures his hand, grinning.
I fiddle with the stem of my glass. “I will not be expected to touch you in such a way either,” I say sternly.
“Fine.”
“I will not be expected to wear ridiculous clothing, or use props.” I have seen many things where I work, and I have to make this clear to him. “For example, neck collars, cuffs, latex, chains, whips. No use of toys, or any other degrading items.” His eyes enlarge in total shock. “Sorry,” I cringe. “I’m just finding this way too strange, and I’m worried whether I’m completely nuts for being here.”
“You think I want to humiliate or hurt you?” he frowns.
“I don’t know,” I answer candidly.
His lips purse to the side before he smiles. “My terms,” he says. “You are to arrive fifteen minutes before eight to prepare yourself.” This seems okay- so far . “You are to wear appropriate dance clothing, and remain covered at all times… which means no striptease.”
“Fine by me.”
“Bare feet.”
I smile. “Good.”
“You are to dance to two pieces on Friday and Saturday evening,” he says. “The first song choice is yours, the second is mine.”
This I’m a little unsure of. “Such as?”
“Well, that would depend on my mood, Jen,” he says, artfully.
“Fine,” I say in a breath.
“And your payment will be left before the door in an envelope,” he explains. “You are to take it with you when you leave, and the matter of money is not to be discussed further.”
The reason I’m here is a matter I’m not allowed to discuss? Jeez, what if he wants a freebie. This is not a good term to me at all. He’s putting me off the whole deal. I don’t want to discuss my dismal circumstances with him; to tell him I need my salary details. I exhale and look across the lake.
“Jen.”
He reaches across the table and his hand touches mine for the briefest moment. It’s as though he was cautious to even do that. I wouldn’t mind if he touched me again. It wasn’t a bad thing he just did, and now he’s looking at me full of guilt.
“Sorry.”
“I’m not that cold am I?”
He nods a no. “I just want you to be comfortable about this.”
Maybe I’m selling myself and this is all about the money. He’s going to pay me for services rendered. Weird as it is, it’s just business. Sitting here and talking with him, going through my rules, I do actually believe that Grayson Crane is being honest with me. Can I do this, dance for him privately? I don’t know yet.
I smile. “And I am… so, next Friday?” I offer him my hand.
He beams and his cool soft fingers curl around my palm. “Would you like my driver to collect you at seven-thirty?”
He still has my hand in his, and I’m finding it hard to concentrate on anything other than that. He has tiny cuts over his knuckles, and they are all bruised.
“Jen?” he wakes me from my trance.
“What happened to your hand?”
He clenches his jaw. “I dropped a bolt in the engine of my car, and my hand got stuck.” He removes his hold quickly. “So, do you want my driver to collect you?”
I hum, still not entirely sure about this. “I’ll be fine making my own way. I’ll see you on Friday, Grayson.” I stand up.
I leave Grayson at the Harbor Café and walk away in a daze. I like the guy, and I know that’s wrong. Distance has to be my best friend here. It’s the only way to prevent complication.
First Dance
Something has gotten into me; something I didn’t want. The moment my skin touched hers, it overwhelmed me with desires of the deepest kind. It’s crawled beneath my flesh and my every pore
“Yes Jen, we’ve already highlighted that,” he sighs. “Would you like to tie me to a chair?”
“Seriously?” I’m unsure whether to take that with a pinch of salt or not.
“If that’s what you need,” he replies, stone-faced.
“No!”
“Well, continue,” he gestures his hand, grinning.
I fiddle with the stem of my glass. “I will not be expected to touch you in such a way either,” I say sternly.
“Fine.”
“I will not be expected to wear ridiculous clothing, or use props.” I have seen many things where I work, and I have to make this clear to him. “For example, neck collars, cuffs, latex, chains, whips. No use of toys, or any other degrading items.” His eyes enlarge in total shock. “Sorry,” I cringe. “I’m just finding this way too strange, and I’m worried whether I’m completely nuts for being here.”
“You think I want to humiliate or hurt you?” he frowns.
“I don’t know,” I answer candidly.
His lips purse to the side before he smiles. “My terms,” he says. “You are to arrive fifteen minutes before eight to prepare yourself.” This seems okay- so far . “You are to wear appropriate dance clothing, and remain covered at all times… which means no striptease.”
“Fine by me.”
“Bare feet.”
I smile. “Good.”
“You are to dance to two pieces on Friday and Saturday evening,” he says. “The first song choice is yours, the second is mine.”
This I’m a little unsure of. “Such as?”
“Well, that would depend on my mood, Jen,” he says, artfully.
“Fine,” I say in a breath.
“And your payment will be left before the door in an envelope,” he explains. “You are to take it with you when you leave, and the matter of money is not to be discussed further.”
The reason I’m here is a matter I’m not allowed to discuss? Jeez, what if he wants a freebie. This is not a good term to me at all. He’s putting me off the whole deal. I don’t want to discuss my dismal circumstances with him; to tell him I need my salary details. I exhale and look across the lake.
“Jen.”
He reaches across the table and his hand touches mine for the briefest moment. It’s as though he was cautious to even do that. I wouldn’t mind if he touched me again. It wasn’t a bad thing he just did, and now he’s looking at me full of guilt.
“Sorry.”
“I’m not that cold am I?”
He nods a no. “I just want you to be comfortable about this.”
Maybe I’m selling myself and this is all about the money. He’s going to pay me for services rendered. Weird as it is, it’s just business. Sitting here and talking with him, going through my rules, I do actually believe that Grayson Crane is being honest with me. Can I do this, dance for him privately? I don’t know yet.
I smile. “And I am… so, next Friday?” I offer him my hand.
He beams and his cool soft fingers curl around my palm. “Would you like my driver to collect you at seven-thirty?”
He still has my hand in his, and I’m finding it hard to concentrate on anything other than that. He has tiny cuts over his knuckles, and they are all bruised.
“Jen?” he wakes me from my trance.
“What happened to your hand?”
He clenches his jaw. “I dropped a bolt in the engine of my car, and my hand got stuck.” He removes his hold quickly. “So, do you want my driver to collect you?”
I hum, still not entirely sure about this. “I’ll be fine making my own way. I’ll see you on Friday, Grayson.” I stand up.
I leave Grayson at the Harbor Café and walk away in a daze. I like the guy, and I know that’s wrong. Distance has to be my best friend here. It’s the only way to prevent complication.
First Dance
Something has gotten into me; something I didn’t want. The moment my skin touched hers, it overwhelmed me with desires of the deepest kind. It’s crawled beneath my flesh and my every pore
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