Dance with the Billionaire (26 page)

I look up and there’s Dylan. Somehow he’s found me,
again
.

“Mind if I take a seat?” he asks quietly.

I’m too tired to fight now. So I just nod, and he takes a seat on the bench beside me. I expect him to say something, but instead he just puts his arms around my shoulders and holds me. And then, a moment later, he says very quietly, “I’ll never give up on you, you know. I can’t change the way we met. I can’t change the past. But everything from hereon in, I can and
will
do right. I want you to have everything you deserve, Julia. I want you to have a fairy tale romance. I want you to have happiness and passion and everything you should have.”

“Why?” I reply, no longer shouting, just exhausted and tired, my voice just a whisper. “Why do you care? You could have anyone. Someone who understands you and your life and where you come from. Someone your whole family won’t think is just
trash
.”

“I know you think I was an asshole that first night at the bar,” he says, “the kind of guy who offers an
obscene
amount of money for a girl’s underwear and expects to get it. And yes, you were right. I
was
that asshole. But the moment you turned around and looked me square in the face, dropping my business card to the floor, I knew that nothing would ever be the same again. I knew in that moment that you were the only woman for me. I
love
you, Julia,” he says. “It’s that simple.”

I’m stunned into silence by the word.

I turn and kiss him, and I start crying again as we kiss.

“What’s wrong?” he murmurs, brushing the tears from my cheeks with his thumbs. “Why are you still crying?”

“I don’t know,” I say. But it’s because I’m crying with happiness. “I love you, too.”

§

We fall back onto the soft cotton sheets of the bed that night, so hungry for each other it feels almost like a kind of madness. I push my mouth against his, my hands in his hair, kissing him so deeply and passionately, shivering as his hands explore my body, pulling me tight against him, the hardness of his cock pressing between my legs through his pants.

It’s like we can’t get undressed fast enough, fingers fumbling and tearing at clothes, mouths crushed together as the balmy New Orleans night swirls around us, the warm air spilling in through the open window of our hotel room.

We break the kiss just long enough for me to unclasp my bra and wriggle out of my panties, while Dylan tugs off his shirt, then pushes off his slacks and briefs, both of us naked now, our skin dappled in sweat, the breath shivering past my lips as I’m overcome, all over again, by the urgent need to
have him
– to feel him deep inside me, to taste his skin, to claw his back with my nails ...

I pounce on him like a cat, pushing him back onto the bed, my hands pinning his shoulders, the hardness of his cock grazing my inner thigh as I spread my legs, straddling him. His hands move to my ass as I begin to kiss and nuzzle his chest, shivering with delight as I taste the salty musk of his sweat, while one of his hands moves between my legs, tracing such slow circles over my clit that I moan. But I pull away, wanting to prolong the moment, moving my kisses down over his abs, then further, wrapping my fingers around his cock and tenderly kissing him, flicking my tongue up and down his shaft, massaging his full tight balls.

I love the way he groans, when I finally take him in my mouth, his hardness filling me, as I bob my head, sucking him in a slow sensual rhythm, his fingers moving to my nipples, teasing and tugging at them until they grow so hard and tight it’s almost painful. I can feel my pussy throbbing madly too, crying out for him, but I continue to suck him, savoring that sweet pain of wanting him so badly but making myself wait just a little longer, as he starts to buck his hips, one hand moving into my hair now, winding it so tightly around his fist that I gasp for a moment as a sharp pain mingles in with the sweetness, as he begins to fuck my mouth like that, his other hand still coaxing electric shivers of pleasure from my nipple, his cock throbbing, filling up my mouth so completely, my tongue flicking in circles around the head of his cock.

But he soon pulls my head away from him, causing me to gasp.

“Jesus Julia,” he growls. “I don’t want to come
just
yet ...”

His hands move to my sides now, coaxing me forwards, urging my pussy towards his face. Our bodies glide together, slicked with sweat, and I slide up his chiseled body so easily, aided by the wetness that’s seeping from my core, until I’m positioned right over him, his hands on my ass, pulling me down towards his mouth.

I cry out as his tongue touches against my clit, then flicks lower, pushing deep inside me, and as the pleasure races through me in deep powerful pulses, I hear him groan too, as he laps and licks at me, so hungrily, so urgently.

I steady myself, putting my palms against the cool wall, arching my back, as I begin to ride his face, his hands on my buttocks, urging me back and forth against his mouth. And as he tongues my clit, I feel his hands spreading my ass, and his fingertip touch gently against my asshole.

I moan, as his tongue pushes inside me again, his finger also pushing a little way into my ass, my legs spread wide, my breasts bouncing, as I fuck his mouth, riding him, grinding wildly against him.

A moment later I’m coming, my whole body bucking, as he sucks my clit between his soft full lips, the pleasure so intense that it fogs my head and I shiver and gasp, pushing even harder against him.

I’ve hardly time to recover before he’s pulling me down again, urging me back towards his cock, which is still jutting up, rock-solid, between his muscular thighs.

I feel the tenderness of my nipples grazing his chest, as his fingers move back into my hair, pulling my face toward his in a deep kiss, his mouth slicked with my wetness, tasting myself on his tongue, while between my legs I feel the white heat of his cock, pressing against my lips.

I ease backwards, so slowly it causes him to groan into my mouth, and I feel myself taking him, his thickness stretching me wide as he slips inside me, inch by inch, so deep that I almost can’t take it.

He breaks the kiss, just long enough to gasp, “Fuck Julia, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to get enough of you ...”

And I want to talk too, but I can’t, I’m too lost in my own pleasure, the sighs and whimpers falling from my mouth as he begins to plunder me, bucking his hips, fucking me faster and harder, faster and harder, his cock pounding me, his other hand once more moving to my clit, thumbing it as he takes me, pushing his mouth back against mine, our lips crushing together, our bodies shiny and slick from the intensity and from our passion, both of us crying out now as we come at the same time, my body quaking, Dylan’s cock pulsing, driven so deep inside me, the heat of the night air intensifying everything so powerfully that I wish this moment would last forever ...

On Tuesday, I discover I’ve got a message in my pigeonhole, to come and see Madame Lyon. Immediately I’m nervous. I can’t think what the hell she could want.
Have I done something wrong? Have they discovered how exactly I managed to pay all my fees and decided to kick me off the course? Or has Maurice called me a liar and turned the school against me?

I gently knock on her door, like I’m hoping that she won’t hear me. But Madame Lyon’s hearing is just as sharp as her dancing, and a moment later I hear the crisp, sharp tone of her voice call, “Come in.”

I push open the door and step timidly into her office. I’m so goddamn nervous, I just begin talking the very moment I sit down, before she’s even had a chance to speak.

“Madame Lyon!” I say. “I’m so sorry. I know I’ve not been focusing on my dancing. I’ve had a lot going on. I should have been practicing this weekend, I know. But I promise next weekend, I’m not gonna let you down, I promise ...”

She holds up a hand to cut me off. “What are you
talking
about, silly child? I haven’t brought you here to tell you off.”

“You haven’t?” I say incredulously.

“No, of course not,” she says sharply. “I’m asking you to dance the lead in the recital at the end of the term, Julia. It
will
mean some extra work, so I hope all that nonsense you were babbling about focusing on your dancing is true. Because rehearsals start next week.”

And as she continues to tell me all about my part – what exactly is expected of me – I can hardly listen, I’m too dizzy and giddy and excited to take it all in.

As I stumble out of the building a few minutes later, dazed and excited all at once by the news, I know exactly who I need to share this moment with ...

Nat!
I text frantically.
Are you on a shift? Can you come and meet me ASAP?

I’m at the studio
, she replies.
Come down.

§

When I get to The Rhythm Project, I find her waiting for me on the steps. “What’s wrong?” she says. “Are you okay? You look kind of ... weird.”

“Of course I’m okay!” I reply, full of manic energy, doing all I can not to hug the life out of her right here and now, before I’ve even explained why. “Why wouldn’t I be okay?”

“Oh,” she says. “Your text. You sounded frantic. I thought something was up ...”

“No, no, no, you don’t understand,” I blurt out in a rush. “They’ve asked me to dance the lead in the end-of-term recital!”

“Oh Jules, that’s amazing!” she squeals, jumping to her sneaker-clad feet and hugging me tight. “I knew my girl could do it!”

“I’ll get you a ticket as soon as they’re available,” I say. “I need to have you in the front row. Anyway, what are you even
doing
here at this time? Shouldn’t you be at work?”

“That’s the thing,” she says with a mysterious grin. “I’ve got some news for you as well.”

“Oh yeah?” I say, wondering just what the hell it could be.

“Uh huh,” she says and the grin slowly turns into the hugest smile that spreads all the way across her pretty face. “Dylan’s donation was enough to extend our after-school programme. And enough to offer so many extra classes that they’ve asked me to come on board and teach full time. I mean, it’s not at your level or anything. But I still get to
dance
every day ...”

“Oh my God!” I say, drawing her into another huge hug, the second in as many minutes. “I’m so freaking pleased for you!”

And sure, this little studio isn’t halfway as prestigious as the Eldridge school, but helping other people is all Nat’s ever cared about. And I can’t even process the fact that it was Dylan who made it all possible ...

“But what about your job at the restaurant?” I say.

“I finally made my dream come true and told them
exactly
where
they could shove it,” she grins.

This is the house the way it should be. Tonight every seat at the huge dinner table is taken up by members of the Campbell family. They’re the kind of family I’d always wished for myself – noisy and loud, talking and shouting over each other, but full of love, too. It’s amazing to see them like this, and I actually feel accepted into a real family for what feels like the first time in my life.

Dylan’s brother Spencer is just like he described – kind, caring and fiercely, scarily intelligent. I don’t know what he’s talking about half the time, most of it flying over my head, but even so I could listen to him talk all day, he’s just so interesting.

Isabella meanwhile is as usual engrossed on her phone, so no change there.

Dylan’s parents are fussing about; his mom clearly delighted to have all her kids back together again. She’s understated but expensive-looking, with the kind of delicate blonde highlights that must cost an absolute fortune, and demand weekly appointments at the salon. And his dad is looking
great
for his age; a George Clooney silver fox type. I can tell just where Dylan gets his looks from, and I mentally bank the information, pleased to know that Dylan is going to age just as well.

And it’s all I can do to stifle a giggle when I glance over in the direction of Dylan’s cousin Violet and her daughter Chloe, as I think back about just how wrong I was when I saw that photograph of them.

As James and his staff bring out our entrées, he catches my eye and gives me a wink.

§

After dinner, Gloria, Dylan’s mom, finally snaps at Isabella. “Bella! Get off that phone. You’ve been on it all day, as far as I can tell! Surely it can’t be
that
interesting? We’re all here together. That hardly ever happens. Isn’t that the most important thing?”

“I guess,” says Isabella, throwing her phone onto the table in annoyance then giving her mom one of her signature eye rolls.

Then Spencer joins in. “Come on, Isabella. When are you gonna care about something other than yourself and mindless celebrity gossip. There’s a whole world out there, you know ...”

Next even Dylan gets involved, asking, “So? Have you decided on a major yet?”

It seems like ganging up on Isabella like this is a family pastime.

“Actually, Dylan?” she replies, straightening in her chair and looking him square in the eyes. “No I haven’t decided on a major. In fact, I’m leaving Brown at the end of this term.”

“You’re doing
what
, young lady?” Gloria explodes, now white-faced with shock. “All that extra tuition! All the strings we’ve pulled to keep you there after you nearly flunked out! And you can’t even stick it out for
one more year
?”

“I’ve never been happy there, Mom,” Isabella says quietly. “I never even wanted to go there in the first place. I only went because it was your Alma Mater.”

Now their father, Bailey, joins in: “I hope you don’t think you’re going to sponge off us now?” he bellows. “You do remember that finishing college is a condition of your trust fund, don’t you?”

And before she can even answer, Gloria joins in again despairingly. “We didn’t raise you to be a socialite, you know? That’s not what this family is about.”

I look over at Isabella, and it’s clear that she’s enjoying this. She’s enjoying letting everyone work themselves into a frenzy before finally, in a small, quiet and calm voice, she announces, “I’m moving to London in the fall. I’ve got a place at RADA. As in, The Royal Academy of Dramatic Arts. As in,
the best drama school in the world.
”

The whole family looks stunned, and the huge dining room is plunged into silence for a moment. 

“Acting?” says Dylan. “You’ve never mentioned that you wanted to
act
before ... I didn’t know you could act.”

At this, Isabella shrugs and then a smile flickers at the corners of her glossy lips. “Ask Julia,” she says, nodding in my direction. “She helped me with my audition piece ...”

The whole family’s eyes turn on me, and I swallow back my nerves.

“She’s good,” I say timidly. “Really good.”

Everyone looks totally taken aback, like they can’t quite take the information in. Apart from Isabella of course, who’s already back on her phone, texting away happily, as if nothing out of the ordinary has even happened.

§

That night, we go to bed, but not to separate bedrooms. Instead, I’m up here in Dylan’s room, both of us climbing beneath the sumptuous white cotton sheets like any normal couple. And maybe I’m a little giddy after all that good food and wine, but I just have to say it.

“Dylan, I’m so happy. I love being here, as part of your family, as your ... you know,
girlfriend
. I think I was just protecting myself from hurt when I used to think that love was for other people. Because now I know I love you. I really do.”

“I love you too, Julia,” he says without a moment’s pause, pulling me close to him, his hand cupping my chin, tilting my face to his, eyes blazing, skin glowing. “I feel exactly the same way. I don’t think I’ve ever let anyone get this close to me before, but I’m so glad I have.”

I answer him with a kiss, my heart flooding with happiness, and for once in my life, for maybe the first time ever, things really do seem ... well,
perfect.