In the Air (The City Book 1) - By Crystal Serowka Page 0,13

myself thinking of her face. Doll-like features cradled by long blonde hair. It wasn't just her looks that immediately drew me in. She was beautiful, though. Her blonde hair pulled back, accentuating her brown eyes and pale skin. It was mostly Natalia's feistiness that grabbed my attention. She put me in my place, and that was a huge turn-on. Fuck. I was getting hard thinking about someone else while my girlfriend was still on the line.

"Samson? Did you hear what I just said?"

Steering my mind back to reality, I forced out thoughts of Natalia. "I think I'm gonna get some sleep, Doll, I mean, Baby." I corrected my slip-up as quickly as I could.

"You've never called me Doll. Must be a nickname for one of your other girlfriends. Have a nice night, Samson." Aubrey hung up on me. Again.

I had no clue why Natalia appeared in my thoughts, but I did know there was something special about her. I didn't want to sleep, knowing the walls would only spin if I did. I jumped out of bed and quickly changed into a pair of mesh gym shorts. I knew the only way to untie these knots in my gut was to dance.

When I saw Samson earlier tonight, that irritated feeling I'd gotten from him in class returned, and was compounded when he called me Dorothy. Calling me by the wrong name. He really needs to get his own material. I realized he was drunk, which makes everyone more loose-tongued, but at that moment his dick meter was registering off the charts.

I decided to blow off some steam and head down to the studio. Dancing was my favorite way to relieve tension. When I lost my dad, I spent almost every night in the studio. My mother was a complete wreck, and since she wasn't able to control losing her husband, she worked harder to control me. To avoid her as much as I could, I became accustomed to practicing late at night.

Kingsley had gone out and said not to expect her until morning. The only reason anyone usually went out past 1 A.M. was for a booty call. Throwing on a pair of black leggings and my favorite Rolling Stones T-shirt, I grabbed my gym bag and headed to the elevator.

When I entered the studio, I switched on the back lighting, keeping the harsh, overhead lights off. The large window in the back of the room caught my eye and I was curious to see the view. New York City all lit up was breathtaking. Even at 3 A.M., the traffic was still insane. It truly was 'the city that never sleeps.' For the next few minutes, I watched all of the cars drive through the streets and I found myself lost in the stillness of the room.

I heard a door open and quickly hid behind a nearby curtain in the back of the room, afraid of getting caught by a teacher. I peeked out, curious to see who had come in.

"Oh my god. Samson?" I whispered to myself, not wanting to give away my presence.

He threw his bag down to the floor and walked to the stereo. A beautiful song began playing, chasing the silence from the room. Samson sat on the ground and began to stretch. His towering frame cast a shadow across the wooden floor. He was good-looking. That was undeniable. Well-defined muscles accented every part of his body. The sleeves of his grey T-shirt were tight around his biceps. I imagined him lifting me effortlessly from the ground, holding me in the air. I immediately pushed out the pleasant thoughts that were starting to brew in my mind. As good-looking as he was, his ego was hideous.

When he began dancing, I noticed the same carefree attitude that showed during his solo return. It's like the ego he tried so hard to portray melted away, and what was left was his true self. Seeing him dance, without any inhibitions, had my body yearning to be close to his. The hauntingly beautiful song continued to play and his moves became more forceful. As he leapt into the air, his Triple Saut de Basque was dead on. Coming down on his left knee, he glanced to the back of the room. I quickly pulled back, trying to hide from view. As I waited, hoping Samson hadn't discovered me, I thought about the dancing I'd just seen. He made ballet look easy.

Other than the music overhead, I didn't hear anything