OGs: Deep Down (35 page)

She jerked. “Oh God, Mike.”

He couldn’t tear his gaze from the mirror. He took her by the backs of her knees and lifted her legs, causing her to lose her leverage.

Kyra let out a strangled moan, flinging her head back.

“Keep watching, baby,” he growled. Now she was totally on display. Her ass stretched around him. Her red pussy open and dripping. Her tight clit dark pink and swollen. Her toned body sweaty from the strain, her smoky eyes glazed from passion. Her black hair all over them. They locked eyes in the mirror.

“Baby, I can’t fuck you if you don’t let my legs go,” she whispered.

True.

“And you can’t spank my pussy if your hands are busy,” she added, squeezing her inner muscles around him.

He let go, his cock growing even bigger in her ass. “Fuck, baby. You’re killing me here.”

Every time she impaled herself on him, he slapped her clit and she cried out.

She was trembling, her back arched, her fingers digging into the wood. So hot.

“Give it to me, baby.” Slap. “Come around my cock.” Slap.

She let out a ragged moan, and clamped all over. Ass, pussy, body.

As she began coming, Mike took over and flipped her on all fours. Kyra grabbed the sheets, her face buried in them, muffling her screams. He pounded into her, watching as his cock disappeared deep inside her again and again, until the pressure in his balls and in his head was unbearable. He was going to explode.

He buried himself deep in her ass, as deep as humanly possible, and let himself go.

Chapter Eighteen

“I think I’m gonna throw up,” Kendall mumbled, white as a sheet.

Kyra patted her on the back. “Put your head between your knees and breathe deep. You’ll be fine.”

“What if we screw it up?”

Megan grimaced. “Yeah, what if we forget the steps and end up making asses out of ourselves? The TV is here.”

“The TV is here?” another girl asked, panicking. “Oh God.”

It looked like stage fright was running rampant among the teenagers.

“Never mind the TV. Worry about the camera phones,” Stacy muttered. “In no time we’ll be all over YouTube. We’ll have to change high schools. Move to Alaska.”

Kyra chuckled softly, placed her arms around the shoulders of the two girls standing by her sides and gave a gentle shake. “No need to move anywhere. You guys are great. If you forget a step, just continue with the next one. Don’t worry. You rock. You all rock,” she repeated louder, looking at every one of them.

The girls breathed deep and mumbled, not convinced at all, “We rock.”

“Come on,” Angie said. “You sound like you’re going to the slaughterhouse.”

“You think we could get some group discount at your beauty clinic? If we change our faces, we may not have to move to Alaska,” Stacy suggested.

“No changing faces. And I hear there is a shortage of women in Alaska. One woman per every ten men. If anyone is moving to Alaska, that’s me, kiddo. Lots of mountain men there.”

“Aren’t mountain men weird?”

Angie smirked. “Maybe, but I love beards.”

“No one is moving to Alaska,” Kyra all but yelled to make herself heard above the laughing. The silly conversation about Alaska and mountain men had gotten the girls to loosen up a bit. “You rock. I know what I’m talking about. You’ve got passion, and you’ve got skills. That’s all you need.”

“She’s right,” Kendall said finally. “We rock.”

The other girls assented.

Thank God. And just in time, because at that very moment the announcer called them.

“Your turn,” Kyra said. “Go out there. Show them what you can do, and above everything else, have fun. That’s what we are here for.”

“Nervous?” Angie whispered to her as they watched the girls march to the stage.

“Like you wouldn’t believe.”

Kyra had been playing it cool but was a thousand times more nervous now, with her girls about to dance, than when she herself was in the spotlight. They were ready, pumped up with energy and enthusiasm. The competition was stiff, but they were good and knew the routine by heart.

She’d underestimated the popularity of the contest, or the publicity. The place was bursting at its seams. It probably had to do with Amantis singing at the end of the competition. Kyra wasn’t sure whether Alexa had arranged their appearance after knowing about Kyra’s girls, but she had her suspicions, especially since the pop star hadn’t mentioned anything to her before. Then again, the last time they’d spoken was right after the Drake debacle. They’d had more pressing matters to talk about.

As the music began, Kyra took in a calming, slow breath and found herself reaching to Mike for support, but he wasn’t there. He’d wished them luck—
“Not that you guys need it,”
he’d added with that roguish smile of his that never failed to melt her insides—and after kissing her, had taken Sam to their seats. She searched for them in the audience. Mike was there cheering. Sam was almost standing on her chair. Behind them was Mike’s family, applauding also. Rebecca and her girls. Everyone from Kyra’s dance classes, even Red and several other dancers from Bottoms Up.

She stood by the edge of her seat during the whole routine, her heart in her mouth. By the end of it she was jumping and cheering.

They’d nailed it. There were a couple of small missteps, some hesitation, but all in all, their piece was flawless. And most important, the girls were clearly having fun.

They came back high-fiving one another, smiling like there was no tomorrow, and then surrounded Kyra, hugging her.

She hugged them back. “Great job, girls. So proud of you.”

And that wouldn’t change whatever the result of this competition. Not only had they come a long way, but they’d given Kyra something invaluable; they’d reminded her again what dancing was all about. And she’d discovered she loved teaching.

“Congratulations, girls,” she heard Mike saying behind her after they all sat in their places to watch the other contenders. “You were fantastic.”

“We had a great choreographer,” Kendall said.

Mike smiled. “Yes, you did. Definitely the best.”

The exhibition teams performed while the jury deliberated. The girls were spellbound, already talking about new ideas for their next dance.

They all held their breaths, and when the jury called them for second place, the whole Alden section of the audience erupted.

“Your girls made it,” Mike said as Kyra and he watched the girls getting their medals.

Between the tears and the craziness around her, with everybody talking all at once, she noticed Alexa, dressed in tight black leather pants and a shiny corset, coming toward her. “Hi, everyone. Great show.” The famous singer congratulated the girls, who had gone speechless. The crowd, though, had realized Amantis was present, and the cheers had increased. Then Alexa turned to Kyra. “You better hurry. You only have ten minutes to get ready.”

“What?”

She pointed behind her. “Your dancers are waiting. They have your clothes. We’re playing ‘Sin City’ and ‘Nine Stars.’ I trust you remember the choreography, right? You created it, after all.”

Kyra instinctively touched her shoulder. There was no discomfort. There hadn’t been any real pain for several weeks. But it wasn’t all about the physical injury. How she’d gotten it and why she’d ended up in the position to get it weighed heavily on her. She’d been vindicated, but shame was a funny thing. It left a stink difficult to get rid of.

Besides, she was leaving that life behind, wasn’t she?

“I don’t think—”

Suddenly her girls found their voices. “Oh, God. Yes, yes,” they squeaked, excited. “We want to watch you.”

Amantis’s dancers came closer. “Come on, Kyra,” Andy, the lead male dancer, said, crossing his arms. “You don’t dance, we don’t dance. Josh will get pissed, Alexa upset. And God forbid Alexa gets upset. Wata will hurt us.”

Josh had found his way to the group. “Hurt you?” Josh repeated, chuckling. “He will skin you alive.”

Kyra looked at the dancers, then at the stage, where the sound technicians were getting everything ready, and she got that tingly feeling, that rush that she always got before a performance. She gazed at Mike, conflicted. “I didn’t know they were going to be here, much less that—”

He brought her to him, sank his fingers into her hair, and, holding her by the nape, silenced her with a kiss. “You don’t need to apologize. Go, baby. Dance for me.”

She encircled his neck, kissing him hard. “Always.”

In record time she was dressed and dolled up. She hadn’t practiced either of those songs since before her arrest, but she didn’t need to. Dancing came naturally to her. She breathed deep, and when Amantis started to play, she was in her Zen zone, music flowing through her.

After the show Alexa went to the front to sign autographs. Kyra found Mike and Sam ringside. She hurried to them.

Sam jumped at her. “Mommy!”

Mike enveloped her in his arms. “So fucking gorgeous,” he whispered against her lips. “You take my breath away.”

A man dressed in an expensive suit approached them. What the heck was the LA mogul of the musicals doing here? “You’re difficult to find, Mrs. Brims.”

She gave a light shrug. “Been taking a break. Mike, this is Charles Solomon. He’s a producer. Mr. Solomon, this is Mike Haddican.” Mr. Solomon seemed to object to her choice of words but said nothing. Charles Solomon wasn’t
a
producer; he was
the
producer. There wasn’t anyone bigger than him at that moment in show business. He single-handedly was responsible for bringing back the musicals to the big screen. Whatever he touched, he transformed to gold.

Mike nodded. “Nice to meet you.”

He got a swift nod back, and then Mr. Solomon turned to Kyra. “Well, I hope you got your rest, because we are putting together a mega production, and we want you in it. This musical is going to be bigger than
Cats
,
Les Misérables
, and
Evita
all rolled into one. We debut in New York in three months, then twenty major US cities before heading for Europe. We want you as the lead female dancer.”

She felt Mike tense beside her. “Thanks, Mr. Solomon, for thinking of me. I’m sure it’s a great opportunity, but—”

“Yeah, I know you dance for Amantis. You’ll make it on time for the tour next summer if you want to continue with them. My office will be sending you a script first thing tomorrow. And the contract. As a matter of fact, I’m going to contact them right away so they can get the ball rolling tonight with the paperwork. This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, and I’m sure you don’t want to waste any time. How soon can you relocate? Money is no issue. You’ll be more than pleased with the compensation.”

Between the general commotion, people screaming, and the camera flashes, she could barely hear, let along think straight. Security personnel had started moving the musicians to the back, and Kyra was also getting pushed along.

“Sam,” Josh called out to her daughter. “We ordered the blue gummy bears you love.”

“Yay,” Sam cheered.

“Mr. Solomon…”

“Charles, please. I’m sure we can reach an agreement.”

“This is hardly the place.”

“We got the best contemporary dancers already signed up. Silvien Spira. Matt T. Sydney McNeil.”

Kyra’s mouth dropped open. Those were, hands down, the best of the best.

“But you’re right,” Charles continued. “This is hardly the place. Let’s head to the conference room where they’re having drinks served for the press and the musicians. We can better discuss this there.”

She didn’t want to go to that after-party. She wanted to get back in her jeans and sneakers and take her girls for pizza with Mike and Sam, as she’d promised them, but the crowd and Amantis security personnel kept pushing them forward.

She reached for Mike, but her hand came up empty.

MIKE WATCHED THE wave of people swallow Kyra, the camera flashes all but blinding him as a horde of press and fans followed Amantis’s retreat. He hadn’t been able to hold on to Kyra. As soon as the producer started talking, without realizing, he’d begun to let go. They were back in the real world, and in the real world, among this mayhem, Kyra was most comfortable. He didn’t know how those guys did it. Josh, Wata, Alexa, the rest.

Just yesterday Kyra was talking about staying with him in Alden. Today she was back where she belonged, and that dream was shattering. She couldn’t give up her career. And she shouldn’t, much less turn down such a great opportunity like the one that bastard with the expensive suit was offering her. The second he’d seen her up on that stage with her white leather pants and that shiny corset to match, her black hair flowing around in stark contrast, he’d seen what he hadn’t wanted to look straight in the face these past weeks—Kyra belonged up there. She was amazing. In his gym, with her old sweats, she danced like the angels. Up there, all dressed up and performing her own choreographies to the tune of Alexa’s powerful voice, she was awe-inspiring, bringing the show to new heights. No wonder Alexa was so adamant on keeping her.

He began backtracking away from the crowd.

“I will not trick you into anything this time, my boy,” he heard his grandmother say from behind him.

He turned, her disapproving expression jarring him.

“You are an amazing fighter. Never seen you back down. You always fought for what you wanted. Except when it came to Kyra. Then you always gave up way too easy.”

His shoulders slumped. “Look at her, Grandma. She deserves more than Alden.”

“Pardon my French, but bollocks. She deserves you. She’s yours. Always has been. It’s time for you to realize it. And you’re hers.”

“I know,” he admitted. He’d been hers since the very first moment that scrawny nine-year-old with a penchant for blonde wigs had appeared in Alden and shyly smiled at him.

“You know, you’re young only once; after that you need some other excuse.”

“She just got an amazing job offer from some big-time producer.”

“So what are you saying? Are you telling me you’re scared of her world? That you’re gonna run?”

He looked at her. Was he going to run? Was he ready to travel around with her? Leave Alden? His family? His friends? His commitments with the community?