“You don’t dance, you make love on stage.” -- #MidWeek Tease from my current WIP #DarkRomance #erotic #contemporary

Happy Hump Day, lovelies!

 I've been a bit absent on social media for the past week or so because I'm working hard to finish my current WIP. It's a Dark Romance (my first in this genre!). 

Would love your thoughts!

 Enjoy! 

In this tease, Grisha (our hero) and Ayla (our heroine), meet in person for the first time. The setting is a disco.

On to the tease!!

“This way.” His fingers skimmed the small of her back as he led her to the bar. Goosebumps sprouted over her skin.

“I don’t need another drink.”

“Yours ended on the floor. Let me do this for you. Bloody Mary and whiskey on the rocks,” he ordered. His gaze swept over her.“I’m sorry, I haven’t introduced myself.”

“I –I know who you are, Mr. Vasiliev.”

He chuckled and handed her the drink.

“Please call me, Grisha.”

His voice was deep, gravelly. His smile intoxicating. He moved closer and she didn't step back. Was that his cologne wrapping around her? He smelled spicy, musky and fresh. The urge to bury her face in his neck and breathe him in wrapped around her. Instead, she took a big gulp from her drink.

"You're on holidays now, aren't you?"

"More like unemployed,” she mumbled.

“Really? I’d imagined the company you’re with would have made you an offer. Although they’re not the best in the business.

“I suppose your business is,” she said.

HIs eyes lighted up and he gave her that smirk she'd seen before. It lighted up his eyes and gave his already masculine features a heady aura of superiority.

"Of course. We have everything a ballerina like you could wish. Year round contract, health insurance, our own medical team, the best teachers.”

“That’s all great, but I’m not sure I’m good enough.”

Grisha sucked in his cheeks. Fire blazed in his eyes.

“Nonsense.” His voice hardened. “Don’t let anyone ever tell you that.” He leaned over her. “You are the best, Ayla.” His warm breath caressed her ear. “You don’t dance, you make love on stage.”

A shiver bolted down her spine, fluttered across her stomach and landed like a throbbing ball between her thighs. Mouth dry, and hands trembling, she drank some more.

“When I saw you dance I envisioned you on my stage. Fucking.”

Ayla gasped. Uncertain of what to say, she knocked back some more of her drink.

“Easy sweetheart. You’re drinking that as if it were water. Why don’t we go sit down?” Grisha suggested, grasping her hand.