Chances (Mystic Nights #1) (6 page)

Aliya felt every glorious inch of Jonathan’s pulsing cock pound into her. And she met him thrust for thrust. This man had bewitched her. For a month, he invaded her dreams. And in her waking moments, she had to force him from her mind. She knew coming here today, she risked this happening. But as his cock sunk into her over and over, she didn’t regret it. Not one second. His fingers played her. He was the arrow, she the bow.

“Oh, God, yes,” she begged for the release that was almost upon her.

Jonathan crushed his body to hers feeling her nipples through his shirt. Like hard diamonds they scraped him. He captured her mouth and her groans as her pussy began to convulse around him, milking him for all he was worth.

Aliya’s world tilted on its axis. She literally saw stars as the explosion that rocked her hit hard and fast. And then she felt Jonathan tense as his body jerked up, and he continued to pound into her over and over again. She saw the muscles in his neck cord above his collared shirt. Then he threw his head back and powered through his release letting out a powerful groan of his own. When he stilled and looked at her, their bodies still connected, he whispered. “You are a witch, Aliya. One I can’t get enough of.” Then he leaned over her to press a kiss on her lips.

Eye to eye, he asked again. “Go out with me. A date.” There was a flash of pain and Jonathan’s heart thundered, afraid for yet another rejection. “This is good between us, Aliya. Not a fling. Maybe something more.”

He saw her brief nod, and for a moment his heart soared before he heard her words. “I’m sorry, Jonathan. Just sex. It can’t be more.” Her eyes begged him to understand.

He pressed a kiss to her lips to seal the deal. “If that’s what you’re offering, I’m okay with that, . . . for now.”

Aliya closed her eyes briefly before she reached up to kiss him this time. It’s all she had to give, she thought. For always.

‡

J
onathan watched the
troupe take a final bow as the curtain fell. Aliya’s performance tonight in the role of Makkitotosimew had been beyond stellar. This locally written rendition of
The Day
told the tale of the Mystic Massacre of 1637. In retribution for helping to hide those responsible for the deaths of two white men, the Pequots along the Mystic had been slaughtered in their sleep by local white Puritans. It was a sad tale, and the few who had remained scattered to the winds, and struggled to keep their nation, their people’s traditions and culture alive while living with other local or friendly tribes. Over 600 men, women, and children had burned in their lodges. More had run and were chased down and axed, shot, and butchered by Puritan hatchets.

This rendition of the story had been told through song and dance, and it never failed to move him. It represented the century’s long struggle his people had faced. His mother had told them the story often, and it had been told in school and at the cultural centers he’d attended as a child. But seeing Aliya in the role made it seem more real and poignant than ever before. It was truly their saddest story.

Despite the pang of loss he felt at his people’s history, he couldn’t help but feel hopeful too. His people had finally gotten recognition as a First Nation. His mother had worked hard to achieve that. And now the casino would help them to get on their feet economically. It was all coming together. The curtain rose once more and the troupe took another bow as the audience continued to applaud their appreciation.

As the crowd began to filter out, he tried to contain his excitement. Maybe it was knowing he would be seeing Aliya later that night, but he was practically breathless with anticipation. He hated having to meet her so late, but as she said they were both so busy. He was currently seated up front, wining and dining several of the tribal council members. His report for them this week was not going to go well. With his mother out of town on her yearly vacation, not only was it his job to keep them entertained and happy, but he needed to figure out why Simon’s numbers were not matching their projections from last quarter. So far Simon hadn’t been able to come up with anything close to what seemed to be missing.

Myrtle Croaton, beside him, was still cheering loudly, and he knew she had seen this show at least a half a dozen times. It had been her idea to attend the performance. She wanted to become better acquainted with Aliya; someone she felt could help translate their culture to the younger generation. Peter sat across from Jonathan, and he saw the man’s gleam in his eye once more as he watched Aliya take her bows before the curtain’s final fall.

Peter turned back towards the other people seated, barely glancing Jonathan’s way. “That woman, Aliya Chance.” He beamed and fanned himself letting out a low wolf whistle. Myrtle gave him a death stare that he ignored. Inside, Jonathan cringed but said nothing.

“Yes, she is very talented,” Myrtle added. “I’m glad she is back. She could do many things for our people.”

Peter nodded vigorously probably thinking about what he would like her to do for him.

As did Jason Paralta, another of the elder tribal members. Josephine Milea was silent however. She was the youngest and newest member of the board and tribal council.

“I never thought she would return,” was her only comment. Jonathan’s ears perked up. He remembered Aliya briefly from when she was on the reserve, but they had not traveled together in the same circles back then. Her parents had always kept a close reign on her, having had only the one child.

Peter was speaking and he listened in. “Yes, she left to attend some prestigious school in New York when she was fifteen, if I recall correctly. But then her parents returned without her four and a half years later. The rumor was she had left school and gotten engaged, but then broke it off a few months later.

Jonathan engaged Myrtle in conversation, pretending not to listen. He didn’t like hearing these things from someone besides Aliya. Their relationship wasn’t that far along yet. They had seen each other just twice in the last week and they had not progressed to the part where they shared their personal histories. He smiled wryly. In fact, they had done very little talking on both of those occasions. They had been quick and incredibly hot occasions. Once in her dressing room, and then again yesterday in his suite upstairs when she surprised him with a particularly amusing and arousing text message. His response had been to meet her in his suite. She knew the way.

“I heard she got knocked up, and, er. . . lost the baby I think, then she left the guy to pursue her dancing career in Vegas.” Peter’s tone darkened.

Jonathan turned to him sharply. “Quite the gossip, aren’t you?” he sneered. “You seem to have done a little digging on Miss Chance.”

Myrtle reached over to pat his hand, sensing the anger just below the surface. “All that is in the past. She is home, with her people. And that is a good thing for her, and for us. Her intentions are good. I like her. Her past is really none of our concern,” she added pointedly to both Peter and Jonathan.

He let out a breath taking the sage advice of the village elder and tribal councilwoman. Aliya’s past was her past. It didn’t matter what she had done then. His interest lie in her future.

Peter must have taken the hint for he was quick to change the subject. The auditorium was nearly empty now. “She is a talented dancer. I don’t know if she is capable of running a studio though, but I am more than willing to hear her out. Everyone deserves a second chance I guess.” Peter laughed at his double entendre while using Aliya’s last name.

“Yes, they do.” Again, it was Myrtle, and she was pointedly looking at just Peter this time. Her brown eyes revealing her intuitiveness.

Again, Peter chose to ignore her, and turned towards Jason Paralta. “And with those long legs, I think I would enjoy giving her chance.” The comment was made softly, but all the council members heard. Myrtle and Josephine made a distasteful glance at one another. They must have often heard Peter making sexually charged remarks before. But Jonathan wasn’t going to overlook it anymore. He had enough of this mans rude and condescending overtures.

“She’s off limits, Peter.” Jonathan’s words came out smoothly. Factually. He hated hearing this malicious gossip coming from a respected council member. More than anything right now, he felt like smashing in Peter’s cocky face. He wanted to wipe the smirk off of it, but chose to be diplomatic. It was what his mother would want. And he knew the tribal council had final say in all major decisions at the casino. He couldn’t smash the man’s face. It would be difficult to work with him after that, let alone gain his support for new projects. Peter’s dark slash of an eyebrow shot up.

“Really?” he questioned, peering at Jonathan with interest, but expressing doubt with the single word.
So the young Sassacus was interested in Miss Aliya Chance.
That was interesting to him. And when Jonathan avoided answering him, not willing to add to the claim he had just made, Peter just shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly. The man had to do better than that, if he thought Peter wasn’t going to try to get better acquainted with that sexy dancer. “Well, I think I’d like to reacquaint myself with her anyhow. Find out more about this studio she wants to open. It’s for our people, after all.” He continued to prod the younger man into revealing his hand, but Jonathan remained mute. His lips pressed into a grim line. He gave Jonathan a shifty smile and once more a shoulder shrug turning to Jason beside him.

With every fiber in his being, Jonathan wanted to stake his claim on Aliya. He wanted to say, ‘I’m seeing her. Hands off. She’s mine,’ and he probably should have, but he resisted. She hadn’t agreed to a date. Yet. Though she conceded to other things with him. The auditorium was now empty. He saw the curtains move, and then as if on cue he saw Aliya emerge from behind the green velvet.

Peter was the first to approach her, but Jonathan was quick on his heels. “Ah, we were just talking about you, my dear.” At Aliya’s raised eyebrows in Jonathan’s direction, she was met with silence as she walked down the stairs into the pit below. Peter reached his hand to her to help and added. “About your talent of course.”

Aliya took the compliment with a small nod and smile, her eyes darting quickly to Jonathan as he fought to recover his control. Stepping between the two, he introduced Aliya to the other council members quickly.

“We hear good things about you, Aliya,” Jason added.

“We were talking about your idea of having a studio on the reservation in Lantern Hill,” Peter added and Aliya’s eyes lit up, her attention once again on Peter.

“Oh, I’m very excited about it. I’m almost done preparing my proposal and presentation.” Aliya smiled at the small group before her, and then added. “I want the studio to be a place where our youth will learn traditional dances, folklore, learn about our culture, but also bring in elements of our modern world by teaching modern dance, ballroom, hip hop, and ballet. It will be a great physical outlet and offer a healthy alternative to our youth.” Aliya watched as both Jason and Myrtle nodded and smiled at her. Josephine’s face remained a stoic mask.

“I’d love to hear more about it, Aliya,” Peter enunciated each word commanding her attention. His dark eyes were kindly. This man could possibly help her make her dreams come true. She needed three votes to get the space she needed on the reserve, although she could also rent something nearby. But her dream was to have it close to her patrons on the reservation, the children she wanted to serve. “We all look forward to reading your proposal and business plan.”

“Oh, I’m very excited to answer your questions. Anytime.” Inside Jonathan groaned. She was opening herself to this man’s advances. He saw the gleam in Peter’s eyes. He’d talk to Aliya about this the first chance he got. Before he could intervene, Peter was speaking again. “Why don’t we have dinner and discuss it more? I’m sure it will help to have a friend on the council. Although we are all friends here,” he added chuckling, but included the other members of the council with a sweep of his beefy hands.

“Yes, yes, of course.” She was beaming.

Jonathan was pissed. Fuck no. His woman was not having dinner with this lecherous pig. Especially alone. And when he got her alone later tonight, he would be sure to tell her that. They began to walk up the aisle towards the exit. Aliya made her exit as Jonathan continued to escort the council members out. As per their earlier agreement, she would wait for him inside the Oneida, one of the small bars on the ground floor where they would have a drink and then go to his suite upstairs.

As she waited for him, she hugged herself. Life was most assuredly getting better. Her decision to come home had been a good one. Meeting the council members tonight, and Peter, she would assuredly get the opportunity to have her studio on the reserve. And maybe sooner than she had hoped.

‡