His Love - Cassandra Dee Page 0,6

endurance athletes. But ballet favors a certain body type, and that’s scrawny.

It’s too bad because I hate skeletons with spindly legs and bony arms. Sure, I appreciate dance but does it always have to be performed by ballerinas who weigh no more than eighty pounds wet? What happened to soft, plush girls with sweet smiles and lush curves? That’s what I like.

As a result, the girl this morning caught my eye not just because she had a body unlike the others, but because she danced with an energy all her own. The brunette threw herself into the music, swaying this way and that, arching beautifully. She was a prima ballerina in the making.

Sure, she was doing all the same moves as the other girls because they were performing a routine. But this female stood out. The way her body arced and curved gave her a magical aura.

And shit, but I ate it up. It’s been a long time since I saw something this amazing. It’s been a long time since any dancer has made my body and soul come awake. But this female did it, and when those big brown eyes met mine a few times during the routine, the contact was electric. The air sizzled between us. You could almost smell the burn, and sense that something incredible was going to happen.

So I did what I often do, and put in a request to speak with our new charge in private. Miss Lane’s expression didn’t change as I gave the order.

“That one,” I said, nodding my chin at the curvy brunette. “Tell her to come by my office later.”

Miss Lane gave a slight nod of her head.

“Of course, Mr. Lyons,” she said deferentially. “I’ll let Kitty know,” she said, before turning away. “Girls! Girls!” she clapped her hands. “Break is over, let’s get started!”

And making my way out the studio, I turned once more at the door. Sure enough, that beautiful female was staring at me, her brown eyes wide, before looking away quickly, a flush rising to her cheeks. Shit, she was gorgeous. Those huge tits were barely encased in a pink leotard, her tights smoothed over luscious, thick thighs, complete with a bouncy ass. I couldn’t wait to see her bounce her up and down for fun, her mouth open with ecstasy.

As a result, I walked back to my office half-aroused. The recruiting mission had been stellar. I’d seen the new blood, and the girls were perfectly suitable. Now, it was just about talking with Kitty one on one.

Satisfied, I went into my office and took a seat. It was time to get some work done before that crucial afternoon appointment and buzzing Edna, I leaned forwards.

“No calls,” commanded my voice. “No calls, no emails, and definitely no visitors until I’m ready.”

“Certainly Mr. Lyons,” replied Edna briskly. “I’ll tell everyone you’re unavailable.”

With that, I buried myself in work. This stuff is easy because I used to run a billion dollar conglomerate. As a result, sitting at the helm of a tiny ballet company was a breeze by comparison. But still, it’s work. There are numbers to run, ticket sales to scrutinize, and bills to be paid. But it’s fine because this stuff is so straightforward. With a couple adjustments here and there, NYC Academy was going to be the premiere dance troupe of the city within a few years.

Suddenly, a soft knock came on the door, and I started, eyes going immediately to the clock. Oh shit. It was three already, I’d worked through lunch, my fingers on the keyboard going so fast they whirred. It was time to get down, and suddenly I couldn’t wait.

“Come,” I commanded.

The door creaked open and my breath caught in my throat because Kitty was even more beautiful than before. The brunette wore casual warm-ups now: a loose sweater pulled over track pants, with her feet encased in sneakers. Not exactly the sexiest outfit, but then again, dancers off duty like loose clothes. They spend their lives being scrutinized, so comfy sweats are a must during off-hours.

But baggy clothes can only hide so much because the sweater couldn’t obscure those huge, swinging tits, and the pants only emphasized the width of her hips, with chunky thighs that were fleshy yet strong, making my mouth water.

“Hi Mr. Lyons,” she murmured, letting herself in. “Am I early?”

“No,” I ground out, blue eyes meeting that deep brown. “Just in time. Come and sit,” I said, gesturing to the chair across the desk from me.

With