Playing Games
Page 17

We descended the staircase and entered the auditorium of the opera house. The place was massive, our footsteps echoing in the room. The stage was lit, and several dancers stood in a line, waiting for us. Off to one side, I could see a couple - Hal and Stefan - practicing moves in front of a frowning tutor. They were both wearing black leotards.
One of the ballet dancers stepped forward as we took the stairs to the stage, her stiff tutu bobbing with every exaggerated move. "Please pick a tutor to show you the steps to the pas de deux." She gestured at the row of dancers behind her.
I glanced at Liam, but he shrugged. "Just pick someone."
I did, and the woman stepped forward with tiny, precise steps, her feet arching with every mincing motion. Her mouth was tucked into a tight line, as if she weren't thrilled to be chosen. She gestured to the far end of the stage, and we followed her.
She gave a little sniff at our clothing. "You both must change into the proper attire."
I glanced over at the other team and noticed their clothing again. "Oh. Um, where do we get the clothing?"
She rolled her eyes as if that was the most ridiculous question ever. "The dressing room, of course."
"Of course," Liam murmured.
At our teacher's huffy instructions, we headed to the back of the opera house and followed colored flags to the dressing rooms. There were two - one for men and one for women - so we separated. I found a small room full of dark tights, leotards, and pink ballet slippers that were made of soft leather. I checked the inside of the shoe - no wooden block for going en pointe. Thank god for that. We'd hurt ourselves if we tried to do that, and we still had a race to run.
I dressed quickly and slid the shoes on, then raced back out.
I ran into Liam in the hall…and was unable to smother my giggle. He was scowling, the piercings flashing as he caught sight of me. He tugged at the stretchy material of his ballet outfit, the legs and leotard skin tight and outlining his, uh, equipment.
"Before you say anything about my junk," he growled, "It's sticking out because it’s an athletic belt."
"It's not all a belt," I said in a delicate voice, trying not to laugh at his expression.
He snorted. "Come on, let's just get this over with."
We returned to the dancer and she began to show us the series of moves that had been designed for the competition. This would not be a traditional pas de deux, she informed us in an icy voice, as we were not talented enough and novices. A traditional pas de deux would be far too hard for us. So they had coordinated several easier moves for us to learn for our dance. There were five parts - the entree, in which we would enter the stage. The grand adage, in which Liam would partner me. Then we would each have a small solo, and then the coda, which would bring the dance to a close. There was one lift in which Liam would have to grab me and hoist me into the air.
The teacher showed us the moves, and I caught a few of the other dancers tittering as we clumsily tried each step. Still, after several minutes, we had figured out the basic steps and the order they went in. I wasn't the best with rhythm, but I was good at memorizing. I stole a few peeks at Hal and Stefan. Surely we had to be better than them. The dancers were giggling at the other team’s attempts to practice non-stop. We could do this.
Just then, Liam put his hands on my waist.
I shrieked and squirmed out of his grasp, much to the surprise of my partner, and the dismay of the teacher.
"What are you doing?" The teacher looked as if I'd just insulted her.
"Ticklish," I gasped, putting my hands on my sides.
Liam chuckled and wiggled his fingers at me. "Can you hold it in for this challenge?"
"I'll try." I exhaled, trying to compose myself, and then assumed the dance position I'd been shown.
When his hands went on my waist again, I laughed once more, but held, my lips twitching. I could do this. I could. I—
Liam's fingers brushed over my sides in what had to be a deliberate tickle.
I squealed and darted away again.
The dancer rolled her eyes, but Liam actually laughed. Laughed aloud. Like I'd just done the funniest thing ever. And that warm, hearty laugh? Made my insides go all gooey with warmth. Liam had an aloof sort of attractiveness to him normally, but when he laughed? I quivered. All over.
It was going to be really hard to concentrate now.
"He's going to have to put his hands on you," the dancer said in a displeased voice. "You need to concentrate."
I nodded and forced myself to loosen up, giving Liam a mock-warning look. This time, when he put his hands on my waist, I felt his thumbs caress my sides, as if he couldn't help but give me little additional touches.
And instead of getting ticklish, I was instantly aroused.
Oh, damn. I blinked rapidly, forcing myself to pay attention to the dance moves and the cameraman that hovered nearby, taping everything. I could feel my nipples getting hard and prayed they weren't sticking out against my leotard enough that the camera would catch it. Our ballet dancer made us go over the waist move, over and over again, until we could do it without me breaking down in a fit of giggles or getting all flustered.
This challenge was taking a long time, but I didn't care. We were making good TV like Liam had said…and he was touching me. And I couldn't quite bring myself to suggest that we go and screw some light bulbs instead.
"Now to practice the lift," the dancer informed us. "The female partner must get into the modified arabesque I showed you."
I grimaced and raised my arm into the air, raising my leg as high as I could. I ignored the amused snorts of the other ballet dancers, knowing my form was terrible.
"Now," the teacher said. "The man should place his hand on her thigh to begin the lift."
I felt Liam's hand curve along the inside of my thigh, and I jerked in surprise at how his fingers had felt, skimming along my flesh. A hot pulse of desire raced through me, and I felt my face flush.
"Keep form," the dancer snapped.
"Sorry." I pressed my lips together and lifted my leg in the air again, wobbly.
"Ready?" Liam asked. At my nod, his hands slid to the inside of my thighs again and I shuddered, feeling the heat rock through me again. Okay, I shouldn't have been turned on during a challenge, but I was.
Because Liam's hands were strong, and they were between my thighs. How could I not get all hot and bothered from that?
"Keep your body stiff," the dancer snapped at me as Liam lifted me with a little grunt, about a foot into the air, and then dropped me back down again. Our goal was to have him lift me from his right side and move me to his left in an extended hop while I held my form. Judging from the ballet dancer's near-sneer, it wasn't a real move at all, but we'd probably pull something if we tried a real pas de deux. Heck, we weren't exactly good with this one.
She made us practice the lift. Over and over, I'd hold form as Liam's hands slid against my inner thighs. And I quivered each time.
"Close enough," our teacher told us. "You can perform once the stage is free."
 
 
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It took us three tries to get through the dance. On the first try, the ballerina judging us stopped me halfway through and informed me that my posture was horrendous. We had to go to the back of the stage and wait as Hal and Stefan attempted to dance their routine again. They were stopped by the ballerina as soon as the music started, since Stefan's timing was off.