Dance for Me (Forbidden Trilogy #1)
by J.C. Valentine
What if the person who stole your heart wasn't who you thought they were?
When my parents passed away, I grew up fast. Learning to stand on my own two feet has been a challenge, but I'm making it... my way. I make no apologies for the path I've chosen. My choices have served me well, but no one knows the real me.
Except one man.
He's a mystery to me. He's controlling, demanding, and he has me wrapped around his little finger. Anything he wants, I'll give it to him. The hours we share together aren't about love. It's just sex. Hot, dirty, passionate sex. It was never supposed to be anything more than that.
Until everything changed.
Now, I'm more confused than ever. The more I learn about him, the less I seem to understand. What I do know is that I'm falling, and I have the feeling when I land, it's going to hurt.
WARNING: Dance for Me is the first book in a trilogy and ends with a cliffhanger. Due to mature material, it is recommended for ages 17+.
Those midnight orbs lift, and I swear I see the same pain and confliction in them that I feel inside of me. Could it be that he doesn’t want this any more than I do? That he, too, longs for our time together. “Nothing happened, and that’s the way it needs to stay.”
I hear the growl in his voice and even though I know it’s wrong, my body responds. I feel the flames of desire licking between my legs, making my nipples grow tight. Does he have any idea what he does to me?
I’m not sure how to take his words. Is he just saying that because it’s the right thing, the only way to cover his ass, or is it because he really believes that what we have shared together amounts to nothing?
Both possibilities are difficult to face, because there can be no good outcome either way, but I still want it, even if he doesn’t. “So where does this leave us?” I ask, using my books as a shield against my feelings for him. Ransom is the only man who has ever affected me this way—he can strip me bare with a single look. He can reduce me from a strong, intelligent, educated woman into a puddle of wanton desire with the stroke of a finger.
Pushing his hands into his pockets as he comes to stand before me, I realize, with a mix of horror and intrigue, that this man is the only one that has ever held the power to hurt me.
He holds my gaze as he stares down at me, and I see the muscle in his jaw tick in time with my heartbeat. We’re connected in a way that neither of us fully realizes, and I feel the draw to him growing stronger. “This leaves us right where we stand, with me as your professor and you as my student.”
The deep rasp of his voice triggers something deep inside of me, and I feel myself lean closer. The allure of those full lips is nearly impossible to deny. You can tell so much from a simple kiss. I want his on me—on the most intimate parts of my body—and I want him to know that.
His gaze drops to my mouth, and even though I know I shouldn’t, I need to kiss him. If this is it between us, then I need this last connection, this final goodbye.
“Miss Hart.” My name is a low warning as it whispers past his lips, but I ignore it.
“Please, call me Josephine,” I whisper just before my mouth closes over his. I don’t know who moans first. If Ransom meant for us to go our separate ways, then I probably shouldn’t have kissed him, because the way he is kissing me back definitely isn’t a goodbye.
She lives in the Northwest with her husband, their wild children, and far too many pets. As a university student, she studies literature, which goes well with her dream of becoming an editor. Brandi entertains a number of hobbies including reading and photography, but her first love is writing fiction-in all its forms.
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