I loosened my hold, not realizing I was gripping her so hard. Damn it, that was not my intent. I didn’t know what came over me. We reached the edge of the dance floor, and she yanked free before punching my arm.
“If you weren’t so tall, I’d aim for your face, Reaper,” she yelled, rubbing her arm. The clear imprint of my fingers marred her skin. A collective gasp sounded, followed by instant silence behind us.
I dragged her out of the studio, away from prying eyes, and over to the dressing rooms. “I could get you a step stool. You could carry it around with you everywhere you go to make it easier for you.”
She packed a good punch, and if my arm was any indication, her knuckles would be sore later.
“Fuck you, Aleksandr King,” she said once more, pushing against me.
“That’s the second time you’ve said that to me today. Do you want it right here? I can accommodate that,” I snarled, the tension between us building. Damn, she seemed determined to push every button I had.
“Nikogda.”Never.
“Tell me how you really feel, kitten, because your mouth says one thing, but your eyes tell a different story. I wonder, if I were to put my hand down your little pants, would I find you wet? Something tells me I would.”
Before she could reply, my hands found her ponytail, pulling her face toward mine. My mouth descended on hers, hot and angry. My kiss was anything but soft—it was brutal. Demanding entrance, I pushed my tongue between her lips, and she kissed me back with equal intensity. I ravaged her mouth, leaving her lips swollen.
Her response was exactly what I was expecting and hoping for. She was invested in this kiss. She growled, pulling my hair and kissing me deeply. I moved my hands from her hair down to her ass. Moaning into her mouth, I ground my hips into her.
“Enough, please,” she whimpered against my lips.
“Damn, kitten,” I murmured against her neck as she leaned her head against me. I kissed her cheek and went to kiss her softly this time.
She whispered, “No more, please.”
I took a small step back. “Get your things. I’m taking you home.”
Her body sagged against mine, and she nodded.
“I left my water bottle in the dance studio,” she murmured into my chest. Her eyes met mine, and she waited for me to nod in acknowledgment. A truce of sorts had been called.
As I walked her into the room, Mr. Dulaine gave me a dirty look. Perhaps I should have left things there, but I couldn’t help myself.
Turning to him, I boomed, “Mr. Dulaine, Kinsley is a solo dancer. Forget it, and you won’t physically be able to teach dance again.”
His face paled, and he dipped his chin to me.Good. Message received.
“Damn you. You can’t do this,” she said, tears in her eyes. She grabbed her water bottle and stormed off toward the locker room.
I waited for her outside the door. When she emerged, she lifted her chin and breezed right past me. I followed her as she stepped out into the afternoon sun. Marcus opened the car door, but she stormed off in the opposite direction.
“Get in the damn car, Kinsley.”
“And if I refuse?” She glared with her arms crossed. Damn her and her defiance.
“I just want to drive you home and talk to you.” I raked my hands through my hair in frustration.
“I’d rather walk. Please don’t make me.” Her eyes were glassy with unshed tears.
“Are you afraid to ride in a car?” I asked, grabbing her arm, perplexed by her behavior. It was a car ride.
“No, just afraid of being thrown in one against my wishes.”
“Who said anything about throwing you in? Please, I’maskingyou to get into the car.” I let her arm go, grabbing hold of one of her hands. I began rubbing small circles on her palms, soothing her.
Her breathing changed, and she calmed down instantly.Good girl.
“Promise?” she whispered.
