Slow Dancing Burning Room Novels & Stories

I stepped out of the car slowly and walked right behind her as we made our way into the building. We were greeted by her butler, Richard and she pointed to the car as a signal to him to get my bags out. Her sitting room was wide enough to accommodate a party of 30 people. A fragile house made with a lot of glass. I was so in awe of the architecture that I almost for a bit forgot about the mess I was in. “Can I offer you some tea or coffee? Which would you prefer?” She walked over to the dining as she poured herself a glass of lavender tea.

I stood there, surrounded by flames, hearing their voices echo in the distance. "Is anyone else in the house, Bri?" "No, Cay. Jeanette said she was pregnant and too fragile to deal with anything. We had a small argument, then she locked me in and set the place on fire before running off." "That evil woman! The second I get my hands on her, she's going to pay!" My legs gave out, and I nearly collapsed. Just then, another voice spoke up, "I heard something from the bedroom, Caleb. Someone might be in there. What if Jeanette—"

"Be honest with me. Even though I drugged you that time, you enjoyed it, didn't you? You should be thanking me. Someone with your looks would never have had the chance to entertain over ten men in one night." After saying that, Lilyanne leaned into Jimmy's arms, his hands squeezing her bottoms. They both admired the photo as if it were a piece of fine art. The flash of the camera, a stark reminder of that horrific night at the bar, sent a tremor of fear through me. Yet, the fury that surged within me, a resilient force, gave me the strength to fight back despite the agony. As Jimmy and Lilyanne engaged in their revolting display, his foot shifted slightly. I seized the moment, lunging forwar

****** ◈JAXON HARGRAVE LAIR◈ Footsteps entered a dark room soaked in club lights and drifting smoke, the music throbbed low and steady. A woman lounged on a velvet chair while three handsome strippers moved sensually before her. Their bodies glistened beneath the shifting lights, clad only in g-strings as they rolled through teasing motions and slow, deliberate poses meant to seduce. Her expression remained calm, almost uninterested, as she lifted her eyes, her gaze sliding from one of the dancers to the figure emerging from the shadows.

Inside, it was choked with dust. "Don't worry, Connor," one of his friends had told him during a conversation Samantha had overheard. "We've already set up the timed incendiary. You just need to lure her in and lock the door from the outside. Once it starts burning, she won't be able to get out. Based on the last fire, wait fifteen minutes, then go in and save her. She won't die—maybe just a few burns. But when she sees you coming through the flames, she'll be so grateful and start crying." Samantha had heard it all. And she was ready to let "Samantha" be buried in this fire for good.

I feel whole again as I let a small flame dance over my fingertips. I can’t resist. I run outside and create the largest fireball I’ve ever made and throw it straight into the stream causing steam to rise from the surface, I’m back baby. I put on a well fitting pale blue dress that looks like it is made of ice, the back is covered. Not because of the cold but because I want Scott to think I'm still weak., I don't need to worry about the cold anymore, not now that my flames are back.

"I'm getting out first. You should take a nap. I'll come get you when it's time." Through the windshield, the brilliantly lit Thorncrown Pack Alpha Estate drew closer and closer. Somewhere on that property, Vanessa was still wiping blood from her knuckles. Inside the ballroom, Declan was adjusting his cuff links, wondering why his mother still hadn't arrived. My car pulled up.

"I'm so excited. My brother told me you're the best in Abuja. He said you used to dance in Lagos. He said you were famous. I've been so worried about the first dance—I don't want to step on my husband's feet. I'm a terrible dancer, really. Everyone says so. I have two left feet. I'm completely hopeless." Zara blinked. She had not expected this. This girl was nothing like Dante. She was sunshine and light and complete, joyful chaos. "I'm sure you're not hopeless," Zara said carefully. "Everyone has rhythm. It's just a matter of finding it." "See?" Amara turned to Dante, who was leaning against the doorframe, watching them. "I told you she'd be nice. Most people are so mean about my dancing."

"You don't want to bother with David now anyway. You won't object to me taking him out, will you?" I did not say anything. I did not argue or protest. Shane tied his shoelaces deftly and went out with David. The security door shut behind him with such a loud bang that it jolted our wedding photo from where it hung on the wall. The sound of the glass smashing seemed unusually crisp and satisfying. I crouched down and picked up the shards piece by piece. I suddenly felt immensely relaxed. When I was about to go to sleep, I saw Ruth's post on social media pop up all of a sudden.

The concert's atmosphere grew more intense by the minute, with everyone's focus locked on the stage. It seemed like I was invisible, blending into the shadows of the concert. The dim lights gave me a false sense of bravery. I moved to the beat of the music, letting the rhythm guide my steps. She moved with a rhythm that made the air between us tremble, every motion sent a heat through me that I could not contain. I reached for her waist and pulled her close, the sudden rush of contact hit me like fire, every cell in me coming alive.