tentative steps, Kitty made her way across the office and dropped into the seat. My eyes trailed every move because even in these few seconds, the grace of that body had me captivated. She was so tempting, her ass wiggling and swaying, big boobies shaking as she lowered herself into the chair. My hardness jerked reflexively, stiffening inside my pants.
But there was no sense in freaking out the poor girl. This girl was eighteen for crying out loud, and new to the city. So instead, I went in easy.
“Tell me, what brings you to NYC?” I asked casually, steepling my hands. “Is it the bright lights? The promise of a ballet career? The applause from the audience?”
Kitty’s face lit from within, breaking into a gorgeous smile.
“Yes,” she nodded. “And not just that but more. It’s the chance to work with the best people: the best dancers, choreographers, instructors, and even the best pianists. I feel like even our practice pianist is as good as a concert musician, she’s so talented.”
I chuckled deep in my throat.
“Brenda is an aspiring soloist,” I acknowledged. “She moonlights for us during rehearsals, but she’s also a full-time student at Juilliard,” I added. “Her dream is to win the Van Cliburn concerto competition and then travel the world, performing in front of packed audiences.”
Kitty nodded, her smile bright.
“I totally get it,” she said breathlessly. “Because that’s what I want too. I want to be good,” she said in a determined voice, that small chin set. “I want to get better. I want to learn from the best, and NYC Academy is the place to do it. The best is here, and I’m grateful for the opportunity to join,” she said softly, meeting my eyes.
Hmm, that spoke well of the brunette. Some women have no idea how lucky they are. They arrive thinking that the welcome mat’s going to be spread out, that their dancing is better than anyone else’s. Sure, their moves are good for a tiny town in Oklahoma, but this is New York City, and the competition’s at a whole different level.
So I nodded thoughtfully, taking in that curvy figure. Kitty smiled softly at me again.
“Do you have any tips, Mr. Lyons? I know at some point, you had to be a beginner too. You got your start somewhere, so do you have any advice for a newbie?”
I stared hard at her. Shit, this girl wasn’t just emotionally savvy, she was smart too. She knew to take advantage of the five minutes she had with me. After all, I’m a billionaire CEO, sitting on top of a fortune. Not only that, but I know dance and I’m familiar with the art.
But I didn’t say anything real. Not really. Because getting to where I am takes a shit ton of blood, sweat, and tears, and no sweet thing deserves that. Innocent girls shouldn’t have to walk the gauntlet. They shouldn’t have to get down on their hands and knees, scrubbing the floor while begging for scraps.
So I kept the conversation light.
“I’ve got a ton of secrets, but they’re locked up here for now,” I rumbled, pointing to my head. “You’ve got to show me that you deserve it. You’ve got to show me that you’re worthy before I’ll tell you anything.”
Kitty bit her lip.
“I danced my best this morning, sir,” she said in a low voice. “I’ll do it again if you like.”
I leaned back and chuckled.
“You think you can do better this time?” I asked, voice smooth. “If so, then be my guest,” I said, flicking a button. And the girl gasped as a motor rumbled, one of the walls discreetly rolling back to reveal a studio, complete with polished wood floors, mirrors, and a long barre on one side.
Because there are certain benefits to being CEO of a dance troupe, and one of them is my office. When you come in, it looks like standard corporate fare with a huge desk, chairs, sofa, and computer. The Academy didn’t hold back and there are deep pile carpets and floor-to-ceiling windows looking out on the bustling streets of Manhattan.
But I’ve also got a hidden studio. That’s right, as a former dancer I asked to have some practice space installed, and the board complied. So now, all I have to do is flick a switch, and the fake wall rolls away, revealing my private studio.
Kitty’s eyes opened wide.
“Really?” she gasped. “Oh my god, you’re so lucky, Mr. Lyons!”
I laughed deep in my chest then because only