“I mean… imagine if you ever married again,” I try to explain to him. “There can’t be two Mrs. Fords, three including your Gran, walking around New York.”
“We can’t have that, can we?” He tsks softly.
A realization dawns on me. My new boss is… Ian? My Yummy Motherfucker?
“You said, Dancer, that you wouldn’t mind who your boss was, whether it was someone you hated or someone you cared for.”
I dip my head forward slowly in agreement, realization that Ian did this for me nearly shattering my brain. I’m mind-blown. I can’t believe someone would do something so huge in order to help me achieve my dreams. Both of them. The one about having a shot on Broadway, and the one of having a relationship with my Dirty Workaholic. “Thank you.”
“Thank you.”
“What for?” I ask.
Ian scrapes his chin as he thinks about it, tilting his head to one side as he regards me. “I suppose a girl I know would say it’s for recovering my… faith in the universe.”
“A girl you know.” A smile begins tugging at the corners of my mouth.
“The girl I’m deeply into.”
My heart somersaults. “How deep?”
“As deep as love goes.” He seizes my chin between his thumb and forefinger, tipping my face back. “The girl I’m in love with.”
My toes curl in my dancing shoes as his burning eyes hold me. My hand curls over his as he continues holding me by the chin. “She loves you, too.”
“She said as much before. But we were both not quite on all five, and I can’t get enough of hearing it anyway.” His low voice rasps over my skin, and the slight twitch of his lips makes me breathless.
I nod frantically up and down. “Hmm. She does. Since she gave you her panties in a little wad in your pocket. She’s so easy.”
“No, she’s not.” His lips curve to shape an utterly sexy smile. “But she’s mine.”
I confirm his words with another jerky nod, and suddenly I can’t breathe beneath the intensity in his eyes.
“I’m free, Sara.”
“You’re free?”
“I’m free.”
I exhale, my whole body shuddering happily. “What’s the first thing you’re going to do now?”
“Take you out to dinner. Then take you home and keep you.”
One second he’s a few feet away. The next he’s lifting my face, kissing me slow, and so, so deep, like today is the end of the world. Or, maybe, the first day of a new one. Hands on my face, tongue invading, tasting. I’m a willing party to this celebration.
“I’m going to get you,” I promise in his ear before I slap a kiss on him. “Don’t you worry about that.” I smile as he sets me to my feet and I head back to the platform, watching Ian discuss the show with the directors before he goes to the door.
He motions that he’s leaving, and I blow him a kiss and get back to work.
This is the opportunity of my life, and I’ve got one gorgeous Suit to impress next time he stops by to watch me.
* * *
“Thinking way, way into your future, Ford. Kids. How many?” I ask later that night as we discuss everything, from practice, to the company, to our possible future together.
Thankfully he doesn’t seem to have trouble picturing such a distant future. Or maybe it’s not that distant, after all. “Two. A boy and a girl.” He shoots me a look that asks, “You?”
“Two as well. Two girls,” I contradict, beaming. I’m so, so glad that he’s free.
“You know, you’re not really free,” I murmur against his mouth, unable to stop kissing him. “Because you’re mine, Ford.”
“That’s right, Dancer.”
We’re not in bed, because he got his piano in. We set it in the living room, and he played “Hall of Fame” for me. I listened, leaning over and watching his fingers. I smiled happily when he was done. Ian scooped me up and shifted me onto the top of the piano, wedging himself between my thighs. I kissed him, and I’m still kissing him now.
Ian
I’m free. Free and in control of my life. Things with Sara are good. Hell, better than good. I’m a different man. Her roommate is getting married, and I’ve convinced my kitten to move in with me. I’ve already given her the extra key. I’m moving fast—but I know what I want. I’m not going to start pussyfooting about it now.
Now Sara is accompanying her roommate to look at wedding dresses, and she asked me to pick her up outside the store where they’ll be getting measurements. I take a cab to the corner and as I step out and feel the ice-cold New York winter wind hit me, I push my hands into my pockets and start for the store. Feels like the world is right for a change.
I’m fucking high from how good I feel when I spot my woman’s dark hair as she embraces a blond guy just at the corner of our meeting place. An icy claw rakes through my chest.
Sara looks up and spots me, and I don’t break my stride, her smile swiftly morphing into a frown as she takes a look at me.
“Hey,” I say, my eyes on the guy.
“Hey,” Sara says cautiously.
I want to punch something. No. I want to punch him.
“This is Jensen. Jensen, this is Ian.”
“Ahh,” Jensen says. “The boyfriend.” He smiles.
“And you are?” I ask, a little tightly.
“I’m her friend. Her gay friend. I wouldn’t have offered that detail if you didn’t look ready to pull my skin out with your teeth. I’d rather make it to my date tonight. Alive.”
“Sorry.” I’m instantly apologetic.
He eyes me.
“You won’t ever meet someone as loyal as Sara. You think she just lets any guy in the way she’s let you?” He shakes his head. “First time, man.”
I rake my hand across my jaw. “Thanks, thanks for telling me.”
“Don’t mention it. I’m glad you’re together. She looks happy.”
I watch her. She’s irritated as I head over, putting my hand on the small of her back to lead her down the block to a restaurant where I made reservations for lunch.
“What was that?” Hell, she’s not just irritated. She’s pissed.
“I’m sorry.” I roll my eyes.
“What did you think, Ford? That I was out cheating ’cause I can’t get enough dick?” She glares, pushing at me and making me laugh over how pissed she is. “Seriously, even after the first time I met you, I couldn’t bear for any other guy to touch me because it wasn’t you. They paled in comparison to you.”
My smile fades, and I clench my jaw as I run my eyes over her features. I touch her, bringing her toward me by the shoulders even as she fights me a little. “I haven’t been with anyone since that night either,” I promise.
Her eyes glisten, and she finally willingly lets me reel her back to me. “So you care. You’ve cared since then.”
I cock one eyebrow. “You thought I didn’t?”
“If you cared, you’d trust me. Jesus.” She glares again, but there’s a smile on her lips as she curls against my chest to shield herself from the cold.
“It’s because I care that I’m paranoid as fuck. You think you’re the only one who feels vulnerable?”
She seems surprised.
“We can’t have that, can we?” He tsks softly.
A realization dawns on me. My new boss is… Ian? My Yummy Motherfucker?
“You said, Dancer, that you wouldn’t mind who your boss was, whether it was someone you hated or someone you cared for.”
I dip my head forward slowly in agreement, realization that Ian did this for me nearly shattering my brain. I’m mind-blown. I can’t believe someone would do something so huge in order to help me achieve my dreams. Both of them. The one about having a shot on Broadway, and the one of having a relationship with my Dirty Workaholic. “Thank you.”
“Thank you.”
“What for?” I ask.
Ian scrapes his chin as he thinks about it, tilting his head to one side as he regards me. “I suppose a girl I know would say it’s for recovering my… faith in the universe.”
“A girl you know.” A smile begins tugging at the corners of my mouth.
“The girl I’m deeply into.”
My heart somersaults. “How deep?”
“As deep as love goes.” He seizes my chin between his thumb and forefinger, tipping my face back. “The girl I’m in love with.”
My toes curl in my dancing shoes as his burning eyes hold me. My hand curls over his as he continues holding me by the chin. “She loves you, too.”
“She said as much before. But we were both not quite on all five, and I can’t get enough of hearing it anyway.” His low voice rasps over my skin, and the slight twitch of his lips makes me breathless.
I nod frantically up and down. “Hmm. She does. Since she gave you her panties in a little wad in your pocket. She’s so easy.”
“No, she’s not.” His lips curve to shape an utterly sexy smile. “But she’s mine.”
I confirm his words with another jerky nod, and suddenly I can’t breathe beneath the intensity in his eyes.
“I’m free, Sara.”
“You’re free?”
“I’m free.”
I exhale, my whole body shuddering happily. “What’s the first thing you’re going to do now?”
“Take you out to dinner. Then take you home and keep you.”
One second he’s a few feet away. The next he’s lifting my face, kissing me slow, and so, so deep, like today is the end of the world. Or, maybe, the first day of a new one. Hands on my face, tongue invading, tasting. I’m a willing party to this celebration.
“I’m going to get you,” I promise in his ear before I slap a kiss on him. “Don’t you worry about that.” I smile as he sets me to my feet and I head back to the platform, watching Ian discuss the show with the directors before he goes to the door.
He motions that he’s leaving, and I blow him a kiss and get back to work.
This is the opportunity of my life, and I’ve got one gorgeous Suit to impress next time he stops by to watch me.
* * *
“Thinking way, way into your future, Ford. Kids. How many?” I ask later that night as we discuss everything, from practice, to the company, to our possible future together.
Thankfully he doesn’t seem to have trouble picturing such a distant future. Or maybe it’s not that distant, after all. “Two. A boy and a girl.” He shoots me a look that asks, “You?”
“Two as well. Two girls,” I contradict, beaming. I’m so, so glad that he’s free.
“You know, you’re not really free,” I murmur against his mouth, unable to stop kissing him. “Because you’re mine, Ford.”
“That’s right, Dancer.”
We’re not in bed, because he got his piano in. We set it in the living room, and he played “Hall of Fame” for me. I listened, leaning over and watching his fingers. I smiled happily when he was done. Ian scooped me up and shifted me onto the top of the piano, wedging himself between my thighs. I kissed him, and I’m still kissing him now.
Ian
I’m free. Free and in control of my life. Things with Sara are good. Hell, better than good. I’m a different man. Her roommate is getting married, and I’ve convinced my kitten to move in with me. I’ve already given her the extra key. I’m moving fast—but I know what I want. I’m not going to start pussyfooting about it now.
Now Sara is accompanying her roommate to look at wedding dresses, and she asked me to pick her up outside the store where they’ll be getting measurements. I take a cab to the corner and as I step out and feel the ice-cold New York winter wind hit me, I push my hands into my pockets and start for the store. Feels like the world is right for a change.
I’m fucking high from how good I feel when I spot my woman’s dark hair as she embraces a blond guy just at the corner of our meeting place. An icy claw rakes through my chest.
Sara looks up and spots me, and I don’t break my stride, her smile swiftly morphing into a frown as she takes a look at me.
“Hey,” I say, my eyes on the guy.
“Hey,” Sara says cautiously.
I want to punch something. No. I want to punch him.
“This is Jensen. Jensen, this is Ian.”
“Ahh,” Jensen says. “The boyfriend.” He smiles.
“And you are?” I ask, a little tightly.
“I’m her friend. Her gay friend. I wouldn’t have offered that detail if you didn’t look ready to pull my skin out with your teeth. I’d rather make it to my date tonight. Alive.”
“Sorry.” I’m instantly apologetic.
He eyes me.
“You won’t ever meet someone as loyal as Sara. You think she just lets any guy in the way she’s let you?” He shakes his head. “First time, man.”
I rake my hand across my jaw. “Thanks, thanks for telling me.”
“Don’t mention it. I’m glad you’re together. She looks happy.”
I watch her. She’s irritated as I head over, putting my hand on the small of her back to lead her down the block to a restaurant where I made reservations for lunch.
“What was that?” Hell, she’s not just irritated. She’s pissed.
“I’m sorry.” I roll my eyes.
“What did you think, Ford? That I was out cheating ’cause I can’t get enough dick?” She glares, pushing at me and making me laugh over how pissed she is. “Seriously, even after the first time I met you, I couldn’t bear for any other guy to touch me because it wasn’t you. They paled in comparison to you.”
My smile fades, and I clench my jaw as I run my eyes over her features. I touch her, bringing her toward me by the shoulders even as she fights me a little. “I haven’t been with anyone since that night either,” I promise.
Her eyes glisten, and she finally willingly lets me reel her back to me. “So you care. You’ve cared since then.”
I cock one eyebrow. “You thought I didn’t?”
“If you cared, you’d trust me. Jesus.” She glares again, but there’s a smile on her lips as she curls against my chest to shield herself from the cold.
“It’s because I care that I’m paranoid as fuck. You think you’re the only one who feels vulnerable?”
She seems surprised.
