"I said I used to be," she clarifies.
A dancer,I think. I could see that. She has the body of a dancer. Lithe and slender, a beautiful figure. Then there was the scar on her leg. "Did you stop because of the car accident?" I inquire.
She nods. "I had to do some physical therapy after..." she starts, drifting off and turning her face away. I don't like that. In a split second, I'm halfway across the table, my fingers locking onto her chin and bringing her face back around so I can see it clearly. Unshed tears fill her eyes with pain and shame. That, too, is a beautiful expression on her face, though it does make my chest tighten.
"Tell me more," I command.
She blinks, and the tears fade. "More?" she repeats. I nod, releasing her chin now that she's staring back at me. I like it when she meets my gaze. I can feel my cock jump in my pants. I want her—underneath me, on top of me, all around me. But more than that, I'm curious about the rest of her, which is important to her. Perhaps I can use it to keep her here.
"I wanted to be a dancer," she continues. "Like the kind you see in music videos and on stages. They're in the background, for the most part, so they don't get the fame, but they get to do what they love, and they always look so amazing. I trained for a long time." Her hand drifts down to her lap or, more specifically, to her leg—the one with the scar. "It ended up being just a dream, though. After the accident kind of ruined any chance I had at becoming a professional dancer, I decided to work my way through school."
"Do you like school?" I ask curiously.
She shrugs. "It's not bad," she admits. "But it's expensive. I don't make enough at the restaurant to pay the tuition fees, and scholarships are kind of scarce right now."
An idea forms in my mind. Dancing. School. How I can keep her close. "Do you still like to dance?" I ask.
She frowns at me. "Of course," she says. "I never stopped liking it, and I can still do some. I made it part of my physical therapy, but I can't do what the professionals do. Not the harder stuff. Not with my injury."
I shake my head. "That's fine."
She blinks and raises a brow. "It is?"
Setting my elbows on the edge of the table between us, I steeple my fingers together and stare at her over them. "I'd like to offer you an opportunity, Cara," I say, choosing my words carefully.
Cara's head tilts to the side as she eyes me warily. "An opportunity?" she repeats my words with a caution that I can't help but smile at.
"Yes." I consider her. "I would like to pay for your college and in exchange..." I wait for a beat as her eyes widen before I finish. "I'd like to see you dance, Cara. Dance for me.”