cock in my mouth and given him a sloppy blow job, moaning with pleasure the entire time. And then I’d let him use my pussy, let him push it in, twisting and writhing, crying out his name the whole time. “Luke, Luke!” the words had burst from my lips like a prayer. “Mr. Lyons, yes!”
But it was all over now. Because no way could I look him in the eye again, no way could I see that big body and keep a straight face. If anything, I’d dissolve into a mess of tears, shoulders crumpling, dropping into a heap on the ground.
And that was out of the question. No way would I let the alpha see me like that. Even if I was completely destroyed inside, Mr. Lyons would never know. I’d disappear. I’d go back to Kansas, or hitchhike my way to somewhere remote. It didn’t matter. All I knew was that I needed to get away now … because all my dreams had collapsed, and I was a nobody once more.
7
Luke
“What the fuck, she left?” I growled, brows drawn. “Why?”
Miss Lane simpered before me.
“You know, the reason why the girls always do,” she said with a coy look. “Ballet’s tough. It takes a lot of discipline and practice, and I guess it just got to be too much for Kitty.”
I frowned. No way. My best girl was an extraordinary dancer, a diamond just waiting to leap to the big stage. And I was going to make that happen for her, I was going to make sure Kitty was a bold-face prima ballerina, one who danced in all the best productions. So what the hell? What was with this disappearing act?
“Listen, I don’t know what you said to her,” I growled. “But there’s no way this chick left on her own. She was all set to star in The Plumed Feather next week. Solo part and all.”
Miss Lane shrugged, face gaunt and hollow.
“Who knows? Maybe her back pain was bothering her too much and it got to be intolerable. You know how ballet takes a toll on your body,” she simpered again. “You know, Luke.”
I didn’t even look at her, mouth in a frown. There was no way Kitty took off with no notice, but at the same time, the back ache thing was believable. Dance is hard on your body, a lot of folks perform in a state of constant injury, whether it’s a broken bone in your foot or a strained tendon in your leg. But still, she would have told me right? I spun to look at Miss Lane.
“Find out what it is,” I growled harshly. “Kitty must have talked to the doctor before she left. Pull her records.”
The older woman feigned shock.
“We can’t just access her medical records!” the woman breathed, eyes wide. “That’s against the law.”
I grunted.
“Just do it,” came my uncompromising reply.
And of course, the gristly bird nodded, bowing and simpering once more.
“Of course Luke, of course, I’ll ask Doctor Cooper right away for Kitty’s records. But in the meantime,” she glanced at me flirtatiously, one wizened hand trailing over her breast.
Bile rose in my throat, this was so disgusting, but at the same time, I understood where she was coming from. Because a long time ago, Miss Lane and I got it on. Yeah, we were more than dance partners back then, we were sex partners too. That was when she was young and fresh, before the endless catfighting and sniping got to her, turning the woman into a pruney hag. But some ladies think they always have the goods, even if their golden age is long past.
“What,” I said in a dead voice. “What is it?”
The brunette simpered again, shooting me a coy look.
“You know Luke, I still have the key to your apartment,” she said mischievously. “And I know how you like to wake up in the mornings. Maybe I could …?” Her voice trailed off.
I swung around to look at her, blue gaze hard.
“You could what?” I asked, challenging her to say it. Really? Miss Lane actually still thought I wanted her in bed? After all these years?
But Serena is unstoppable and as I watched, she slowly slid her leotard down that narrow chest cavity so that the material was bunched at her waist. And with a purr, those bony hands went up to cup her breasts, or what passed for breasts.
Because Serena’s never had it. She’s got a body that’s as flat as a board, or a teenage