Hi, Y'all!!! I hope you're already enjoying this story. Remember to leave a comment if you like it or even a gem. I'm here to reply to a few questions I've been asked through PMs. Here I go... UPDATES I do not have a schedule for the updates. Usually, I update every single day, from Monday to Saturday (occasionally on Sundays too), mainly around 6 pm CET (Central European Time), and I publish 1 or 2 chapters per day (1800 - 2100 words each). BALLET MATERIAL I never thought that a theme so 'unusual' like ballet could interest you, guys, so much. It was a risky choice, but you seem to enjoy it. I can't publish images or other types of info. I can only explain different moves. If you want to find out more, research every single online clip. I promise you that you won't be sorry. Ballet is the most beautiful form of art. A FEW MORE BALLET MOVES DEFINITIONS: FIRST POSITION - the heels are together, with toes turned out until the feet are in a straight line. THIRD POSITION - the
“Blaze… Chérie… No…”“Please, I can do it, Fab. I really can. I’m here, I’m available and you desperately need a model… Even if I’m in Paris for other reasons, it seems that fate brought us together again to help each other out in moments of crisis like the ones we are going through. Come on… Think about it…” Her passionate speech felt kinda flat, since, just by looking at Fabien, Blaze knew he was still going to say no. Blaze could tell by the way his eyes darkened and his jaw tensed. She had no idea if she was the right model for what he wanted to do. But as soon as the idea popped into her head, it felt right, perfect. Especially given the realization she’d woken to this morning.“Okay, before you say no, hear me out, please,” she said. “This morning, while staying in bed a few minutes more, I’ve started to think about my situation and I took an interesting decision that involves me and my future.” Fabien said nothing, so Blaze took that as a good sign
Her long, gracious fingers clenched around the tie on the bathrobe. Her stomach lurched with nerves. Blaze frowned, trying to work out why she was feeling… well, so damn shy all of a sudden. She’d never been self-conscious about her body in her life. Blaze knew she was in good shape, with not an ounce of fat on her, her muscles lean and defined. Okay, she wasn’t exactly a knockout in the… rack department, but that had never bothered her before. Big breasts would only have gotten in the way when she danced, and that had always been the most important concern in her life. But this morning, Blaze found herself wishing that instead of her half handfuls, she had a little bit more ‘action’ going on up top. Lord only knew how many women Fabien had slept with. She’d hate for him to look at her and find her lacking. Or, maybe, not too feminine, even. She sneaked a glance at the bronze figure she’d admired earlier. ‘Bronze Lady’ definitely had breasts. A g
Blaze’s breasts strained upward, and he could see her ribs expand and contract with every breath. Once again, Fabien was hopelessly torn between admiring her skill, wanting to capture her perfection on paper, and needing to touch her so badly his groin was aching with it. ‘Start drawing, you moron. You know very well that is going to be like this all morning. The sooner this painful session is over, the sooner you can have your sanity back.’ Holding his pencil in a death grip, Fabien started to sketch. An hour later, he’d captured a dozen poses and sustained a hard-on for longer than he’d thought was humanly possible. No matter what he told himself, or how many times he lost himself in the discipline of translating what his eye saw through his hand onto the page, his animal need, his carnal yearning for Blaze hummed constantly in the background. By the time he put down his pencil and shut his sketch pad, Fabien was literally shaking w
He groaned, a low sound that snapped her into focus. Heat rushed up her body, sending prickling tendrils beneath her armpits and the back of her neck before filling her face with warmth. Eyes glued to Fabien's trembling body, Blaze took a step backward, her shaking hand reaching for the door handle as she pulled it shut behind her. “Oh, my God...” she murmured. Her knees were weak. She felt hot, as though she’d been rehearsing for hours. She fanned herself, then suddenly remembered that Willow was waiting on the phone. The receiver was still in her left hand. She lifted it to her ear. “Uhm… Willow, I’m sorry, could you wait a second more?” Her voice came out as a croak. “He is just… getting out of th
It was late when Fabien eased the front door open. He paused on the threshold, listening. The apartment was silent. Blaze had gone to bed. Good! He carried the foldaway camp bed his sister had loaned him inside and propped it against the wall. Willow had raised an eyebrow when he’d asked if he could borrow it. His explanation was that he had an old friend staying for a few days but that hadn’t gone far toward satisfying her curiosity. She kept asking questions until he left her apartment. As Fabien suspected, Willow’s crisis was about the latest babysitter the agency had sent and that problem had been resolved in the first hour. Willow had really only wanted a stand-in for her absent husband, a shoulder to cry on while she expressed her fury and disappointment that her little girl had once more, been let down and misunderstood. Her gratitude had slowly turned to curiosity as the hours wore on and he’d stayed to help bathe Timéo and Mar
Despite the fact that it must have been years since he danced professionally, his form was perfect as Fabien began to spin on his left foot, his right leg raised and bent at the knee as he demonstrated a fouetté. His right leg whipped around his body again and again as he spun, powering his turns, while his arms were held extended at shoulder height.“Oh, yes! I remember now!” Blaze exclaimed. The sequence spilled into her mind in an unbroken chain. The ‘grand jeté’, followed by the increasingly frantic fouettés, then the despairing collapse and surrender at the end. Fabien stopped, barely breathing hard from the exertion.“You still got the old moves, Fabien,” she said admiringly.
She’d always loved Latin. When she’d first started out as a professional dancer, she and her friends would seek out the small Latin-American nightclubs in London and spend the night dancing for fun instead of perfection and achievement. Fabien used to come with them, she remembered. She’d loved matching her moves to his to the demanding beat of rumba or samba. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d danced for fun until she was sweaty and laughing and exhausted. Too long… Even before her injury, her life had become so defined by her career and her position within the company that her world had shrunk to rehearsal, performance, and more rehearsal. A particularly bitter gust of wind reminded her that it was too cold to be standing around. She returned to the street, but the rhythm of the music stayed with her. For some reason, Blaze felt calmer, more settled. If she hadn’t heard the music and seen the dancers, she probabl
Hey, Y'all!!!! This is it!!!! The love story of Blaze and Fabien stops here for us, but somewhere, far away from here, far away from our eyes, their story goes on and on. I must say that mixing two of my passions (writing and dancing) to create this story was beautiful, frustrating... unique. I did so much research for this story, like never before. And I hope every single detail helped you understand better certain terms. I also loved mixing French. I'm in love with Paris, I'm in love with everything French (I'm sure you got this by now...) :)))) I want to thank you all for everything you've done to keep this book relevant, and to motivate me to keep writing it. Thank you so much for your gems, your comments, and your PMs asking me questions about it, about ballet and even asking me to help you with your French. :)))) It was so much fun!!!!! Well, see you soon with a new story! (Yes I'm already working on it!) Until next time... Baci & Abbracci, Emma.
Fabien was about to kiss her again when the sound of a clearing throat alerted them to the fact that they had an audience. They glanced up, registering the circle of very curious art lovers surrounding them. Willow stepped forward, one eyebrow raised.“I think the Americans have a phrase for this, if I’m not mistaken?” she said. “Get a room? Am I right?”“Not a room… but a house. I’m taking my woman home with me. I’m taking her where she belongs…” Fabien threw back his head and laughed. It was the best sound Blaze had ever heard in her life, but suddenly tears were squeezing from beneath her eyelids and running down her face. Fabien’s smile faded and he reached out to cup her cheek.“Chérie, what’s wrong? Please, don’t cry,” he said slowly.“I’m so sorry, Fab…” she whispered. “I’m so sorry for not understanding sooner. For not seeing. All those times I climbed into your bed. All those times I bitched to you about my boyfriends… While you… You…”
The crowd parted before Fabien, people smiling and watching him avidly as he passed. Without even seeing his work, Blaze understood that he was a hit. Fabien was now the hottest thing in town. People watched him as if he was a rockstar or something.“Fabien, people are staring at us…” she said, smiling a bit embarrassed to the guests around them.“I don’t care, chérie. Let them stare,” Fabien replied still towing her behind him.“You are the star of the evening. This show is important to you. Please, don’t create a fuss right now. Whatever it is you can show me later.”“None of this would exist without you, Blaze. I need to know what you think. I need to know it right away,” he insisted. Then, a man stepped to one side and Blaze saw the first sculpture: a ballerina arching forward in a perfect arabesque, the muscles of her slim frame straining. Her face was lifted, her expression serene, as though she was exactly where she needed to be. An angel dancing i
Willow was openmouthed with shock.“You sent Blaze away?” she asked, her voice rising on a high note of incredulity. “Why? I don’t understand… You wanted her in your life… You love her since forever… I don’t get it. Why did you do that?” Fabien sighed.“The day I helped you and Grant move the furniture, I came back home and I found her sitting on the floor, having a panic attack… She was looking so lost, so… in pain… She was dying in front of me, Willa! I had to help her. I had to find a way to bring her to life. So, I found a way for her to dance again.”“Okay, but you pushed her away… to another country! And then you told her not to come back?” Her face was creased with confusi
Her voice was quiet and low. Fabien imagined her sitting in her hotel room, her beautiful face crumpled with confusion. But he knew that any hurt Blaze was feeling would soon pass. She had a second chance at her career. The few weeks they’d had together would soon fade into insignificance as she lost herself in her craft again. If they’d ever had any significance in the first place. As Willow had so eloquently pointed out, Blaze needing him while he loved her was not a recipe for success. One of these things was definitely not like the other.“‘Fab… Please, talk to me…’”“I’ll never forget a single moment I spent with you, Blaze. But we both know it only happened between us because of what was going on in your life. Let&rsq
Fabien Mason Lévy… the most wonderful man on the planet. She’d thought she’d known him, top to bottom, inside out when she lived with him ten years ago. She never allowed herself to see more than a friend in him. And now, she couldn’t see herself living without him. He was the love of her life. Her heart knew that truth since the first moment she’d met Fabien, but her mind has always been filled with nothing more than dancing. For a long time, ballet was her only love. Yes, she was head over heels in love with Fabien and Blaze liked nothing better than to say it to him, but maybe it wasn’t the right time… She didn’t want Fabien t
Fabien decided to walk home rather than take the metro. Buds were starting to appear on the trees lining the Seine, and there was a definite hint of warmth in the air. Winter was drawing to a close, and soon it would be spring. The tourists would flood back into the city, and the streets would be full of bikes and pedestrians. Would Blaze be here to see it? Would she be here to take a walk with him? To have a picnic together? He wanted to pin her down so badly it hurt. Fabien wanted to declare himself and commit himself and have her do the same, to end the doubt and uncertainty forever. Ten years with her in his mind and in his heart. Ten years he’d been waiting for Blaze. Eight years without seeing her, without touching her. Now Fabien had her in his bed, in his life, and he wanted to keep her there forever. Fabien stopped on the small pedestrian bridge. Someone was playing ‘La Vie en Rose’ for
The next morning, Blaze rolled over in bed and felt the coolness of empty sheets beside her. Already half awake, she sat up with a frown and stared at the indentation Fabien’s head had left in the pillow next to hers. Blaze felt strange chills running down her spine. She hadn’t heard Fabien getting up. Somehow, she couldn’t understand how or why, she felt ridiculously cheated. Lingering between the sheets in the morning with her head on his strong chest, his hands moving in slow circles on her back, the soothing sound of him breathing, was one of the highlights of the day. Inevitably, they wound up making l
She couldn’t help but laugh.“Not me, silly. Real people. Tourists,” she told him. Blaze bit her lip again and moaned as he upped the pace.“I guess we’d better be quick then,” Fabien replied. Useless to pretend that the danger, the illicit nature of what they were doing wasn’t a turn-on. Desire built inside her and Blaze gasped as her climax hit her. Fabien kissed her, swallowing her small cry. By the time the tourists arrived at the fountain, he’d buttoned her jeans again and she had her flushed face pressed against his neck.“Don’t think there won’t be payback…” she said, still excited, when the tourists had gone. “Sleep with one eye open,