Total pages in book: 184
Estimated words: 186756 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 934(@200wpm)___ 747(@250wpm)___ 623(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 186756 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 934(@200wpm)___ 747(@250wpm)___ 623(@300wpm)
Because all I can see is the darkened screen and moving shadows, the silhouette of his body. Which I expected, of course. But oh God, I can’t…
I can’t cope.
I can’t… This is exactly like the night I’d met him.
This is exactly how he had looked—covered in darkness, his body shadowed by the pink flowers and sturdy branches. And for a second, all I can do is imagine him. That he’s the one I’m dancing for.
Like I’ve always, always wanted.
But it’s not.
It’s Shepard.
So somehow, someway, I make myself move.
I keep my eyes on the screen where I can see the broad strokes of his frame, the hills of his shoulders, the planes of his chest. Where I can see the slopes of his thighs that I think are spread as he lounges in, from what I can gather, his bed. I let that image ground me. I think he’s got his phone propped up against something too. As if he doesn’t want any responsibilities right now. He doesn’t want to divide his attention but rather wants all his focus on me.
I watch him and follow the beat.
I sway and writhe my hips. I throw my arms in the air and put myself on display.
I bow my back and thrust my chest out.
But as I lose myself in the beat, in the music, it gets harder and harder not to float away. Not to become untethered and unmoored until the seams of my body become attached to his.
Until suddenly, I’m doing exactly what I didn’t want to do.
Dance for him.
Like he’s a king and I’m one of his slaves, a dancing girl.
I remember my biji telling me stories of Mughal emperors who used to rule India, the king of kings, the shehanshas. They used to have dancers in their court, the pretty slave girls, who would entertain the king whenever he desired.
The legend goes that there was once a prince, the heir to a kingdom, who fell in love with a common dancer. It was against the rules, of course, so they would meet in secret. They would meet under the moonlight, in the darkened corners of the castle. But one day, their forbidden love is discovered by the king. To protect his love, the son goes to war against his father. He loses, though, and is sentenced to death. However, the king says that the prince’s sentence would be revoked if he handed over the slave girl. The prince refuses; he was ready to die for his love.
And so was the slave girl.
So she gives herself up and the king orders her to be entombed alive.
That’s what it feels like in this moment.
That he’s my king and I’m his slave girl, and I love him so much that I’m doomed to give my life for him. That I’m doomed to love him forever. I’m doomed to dance for him until my feet turn bloody and the last breath in my body leaves.
And this thought, that I’m at his disposal, that heats me up so much, that arouses me so much that even the chilly breeze through the windows can’t cool me down.
I’m so fucking aroused right now that even my shame won’t stop me from getting wet and slippery between my legs. So much so that I think I’m soaking my thighs. The droplets of my lust slide down my legs, making a puddle on the floor.
Which is why I slip, I think.
Or maybe it’s from how fast I’m spinning as I put on a show for him.
Whatever it is, I stumble and fall to the floor. My knees crash against the hardwood and my breaths are somehow both broken and loud. Even through that, though, I hear when my phone dings with a text message. I snap my eyes up and scramble on my hands and knees to get to it. I don’t even know when he disconnected the call.
Shepard
Tomorrow.
Isadora
Tomorrow?
Shepard
Same time.
Isadora
For the call?
Shepard
Don’t keep me waiting.
I won’t.
But first.
Isadora
Did you like my dance?
Shepard
Did I like your dance?
Isadora
Yes.
Shepard
Does the fact that I’m texting you with bloody fingers because I had to punch a hole in the wall, something that I’m going to point out that I’ve never done before in my entire fucking life, answer your question?
My eyes are wide as I stare down at the screen.
Isadora
You punched a hole in the wall?
Me: Why?
Shepard
Because I got pissed.
Isadora
Why did you get pissed?
Shepard
Because Houston is over fifteen hundred miles away from where I want to be right now.
Panting, I read and reread his words for a few seconds.
Isadora
And where you want to be is with me?
Shepard
You have a very annoying habit of pointing out the obvious.
Isadora
Yes.
Shepard
Yes what?
Isadora
That answers my question.
Good night, Shepard.
Despite myself, I can’t help but feel happy about the outcome. He liked it. Maybe it did help him a little bit and maybe this is a step in the right direction.