Total pages in book: 161
Estimated words: 149338 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 747(@200wpm)___ 597(@250wpm)___ 498(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 149338 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 747(@200wpm)___ 597(@250wpm)___ 498(@300wpm)
That morning I decided to venture further into his penthouse. So far I’d found a library and a movie theater, I spent a few days in both, but neither had been a good distraction. Today, I hit the jackpot. A huge gym was hidden in the never-ending corridors. As soon as I walked in, it became the only room that provided me with some type of comfort. His potent scent lingered in every crevice of the open space. I secretly hoped that one day I would walk in, and he would be there, working out his frustrations, preferably shirtless, sweat dripping down his chest and abs. I had to shake off the image.
There was every possible piece of exercise equipment known to man in the abundant space. Mirrors lined all the walls, expanding from the floor to the ceiling. The space was lined with dark, hardwood floors and some exercise mats throughout it. An expensive stereo system had been set up in the corner of the room, with speakers spread evenly in the space. It also housed a sauna and private restroom, equipped with showers and everything under the sun.
I don’t know what came over me, but I just started dancing, the music playing in my head. I spent the entire day in that room, getting lost in the movements and rhythm that were deeply embedded in my soul. By the end of the day, I was exhausted, pushing my body more than I should have after so many weeks of not dancing. I took a shower, letting the hot water soak my sore limbs. Shortly after that, I headed straight to bed. I was out before my head even hit the pillow. Dreaming of him like I did every night for the last three months. For the first time, I was eager to wake up the next day. Knowing I could dance. My eyes fluttered open, taking in the bright light shining through the curtains. Stretching my sore limbs, my body physically spent from the day before. I sat up and looked at the clock beside my bed, it was already eleven in the morning. I had slept in late for the first time since I could remember.
Throwing on a tank top with some cotton shorts, I tossed my hair up in a high bun on the top of my head, and brushed my teeth, going about my normal morning routine. His maid, Maria was nice enough to make me food whenever I was hungry. She would stick around and keep me company as I ate every morning. Sometimes during lunch and dinner too. If it weren’t for her, I would have no one to talk to, except maybe to myself. Excitement couldn’t begin to describe what I felt as I made my way toward his gym after I finished my breakfast.
I rounded the corner in the long, narrow hallway. Seconds away from walking into what recently became my heaven. Smiling from ear-to-ear as I opened the large, wood door to the gym. Nothing could have prepared me for what laid in front of me.
All of his gym equipment had vanished, as if it was never there to begin with. Not one piece of gear was left in the wide-open space. All of it replaced with every piece of ballet equipment I could ever need, and then some. It had been turned into my own personal ballet studio.
Just for me.
I sucked in a breath, placing my hand over my heart as I walked around the room with nothing but astonishment and wonder. Tears threatened my eyes as they took in every last detail of the special place he’d made for me.
A beautiful, black leather sofa sat against the center of the back wall, accented with comfortable, grey pillows. A ballet barre extended the full length of the mirrored walls, parallel to the couch. A square, wood box of rosin placed beside it. I softly ran my fingers along the barre, gripping onto it for support. This was all just so damn overwhelming. The massive, black armoire in the back corner caught my attention next. I practically leaped over to it, excited to see what it held. I opened each drawer, one by one, taking in all the contents. Different kinds of leotards, bright, neutral, patterned colors, showcased in one drawer. Several pairs of ballet tights lined the second one. Skirts in all different styles, colors, and patterns took over the next. Topping it all off with an endless supply of sports bras in the bottom drawer.
The choices were endless.
My pointe shoes and ballet flats were laid out on the dark hardwood floor, and sitting right next to them was a black dance bag full of brand new pairs of both. I wiped away the tears that started streaming down my cheeks. I was in this room less than twenty-four hours ago. I couldn’t believe the transformation from the masculine gym to this beautiful, feminine space. The surprises were never-ending. I walked over to the sound system, finding an abundant amount of ballet CD’s, everything from Mozart to Gershwin. Including the soundtrack to Swan Lake.