Sultry Groove (Reckless Beat #4) (31 page)

“I don’t care.” He took her hand, entwining their fingers. “I want our last dance.”

“And I want to see it, too,” Mason added.

“Me three.” “Yeah.” “Let’s do this.” The remaining men spoke over one another.

She shuffled forward, nervous, anxious and more than a little daunted, as Sean opened his arm to her, pulling her into the sanctuary of his chest.

“We don’t have to do this,” he whispered into her hair. “I won’t push you again.”

She closed her eyes, breathing in his strength, letting his warmth suffuse her. She couldn’t let him go. And she couldn’t hide from him anymore either. He was here now. By her side, giving her strength. If it wasn’t now, it never would be.

“No.” She met his gaze, squeezed him with everything she had. “I’m ready this time.”

Sean focused on
the warmth of her fingers in his hand as he led her onto the dance floor. He hadn’t left her side, not even when she entered the bathroom to fix her makeup. He wasn’t sure he ever would.

The crew had already packed up. Only two or three remained, winding cords and packing the last of their equipment. The ballroom was quiet. Peaceful. The perfect setting.

“You sure you don’t want to back out?” Her hand was trembling in his, her nervousness flowing through their connection and into his veins.

“No.” Her eyes were wide. Her chest rapidly rose and fell, but he could see her determination, could feel it in her tightened fingers.

“Can someone start the iPod?”

“I will,” Blake called.

A beep from a cell camera sounded, followed by another and another. Red jolted, glancing over her shoulder in panic.

“It’s just us,” Sean raised his voice. Confident. Strong. Completely the opposite to how he felt inside. He was prepared to tell the guys to stop. To quit recording the moment even though he’d kill to see the video. It was too late for the music clip, but he’d have one of his own. Something to cherish for later. Something they could both look back on when they were old and gray.

She gave a jerky nod and turned to him with her teeth firmly planted in her lower lip. She stole his breath and made him proud all in the same moment. His pixie. His fairy. His Melody.

“I love you.” His words drifted between them.

Her chest expanded with a sharp inhalation, her mouth gaping.

“I don’t need you to say it back. In fact, I’d prefer if you didn’t say anything at all. I just want you to know how much I care for you.” He reached for her cheek, running his fingers along the smooth skin. “You’re my world.”

The first notes of
Fighting Against Attraction
filled the room, startling her.

“Go on.” He jerked his chin at her. “Get in position.”

She licked her lips, dashed forward to smack her mouth against his, and then ran to her starting position a few feet away.

Nothing broke his focus as she began the routine that had etched itself on his soul. He wasn’t a dancer. He never had been. But he’d shuffle these big feet of his every damn day if it meant seeing this gorgeous woman in action.

He couldn’t get enough of her. Not when he dragged her into his body, or she lowered into the splits and slid her way between his legs. He knew his friends could see it, too—her beauty, her passion, the unmistakable connection they’d experienced with the women they loved.

Sasha had been right. Red did soar. Majestic. Breathtaking. Twirling and sauntering as if she owned the ground she walked upon. There was nothing more alluring. There never would be. He was forever lost to her.

The final lyrics of the song sounded, and she began to walk away from him, following the routine.
Not this time.
He grabbed her hand, yanked her back, and stole her gasp with a punishing kiss.

Her hands clung to him, her body leaned into his, as though they were meant to fit together. He pulled back, looking down at her, unable to grin from the fear any movement in his face would encourage tears.

“That’s not how the song was meant to end,” she whispered, her bright eyes beaming at him, an elated smile curving her lips.

“No.” He shook his head. “But that’s how our song ends, Red. There’s no going back now. I’ll never let you walk away. You’ll always be in my arms.”

Because from now on, he’d never be able to let her go.

“Sean?” Melody could
hear him in the next room, could also hear the music he was listening to. “What are you doing?”

After their dance—their one life-changing dance—he’d led her to his pickup, drove her to his penthouse, and silently carried her to the front door. With his thuggish looks and the heart of the sweetest gentleman, he ran her a bath, filled it with bubbles, and left her alone to undress. He didn’t ask to join her. Didn’t stand in the doorway leering at the body she still hadn’t fully shown him. He disappeared, leaving her alone to come to terms with the overwhelming emotions of what she’d just accomplished.

The bathroom door creaked open, and he leaned against the jamb, not staring at her, purely focused on the cell in his hands. He hadn’t looked at her, she knew he wouldn’t either, not unless she asked him to.

“It’s the video of us dancing,” he murmured, finally meeting her gaze.

She nodded and turned her focus to the bubbles overflowing the bath.

“Do you want to see it?”

His voice was low, sensitive, as if scared she would break. That was far from the case. A weight lifted from her shoulders. A load heavy enough to have crippled her for twelve months now. It was mere days from the anniversary of her accident. A year of her life spent in seclusion and darkness that culminated in the most devastating panic attack to snap her out of her self-doubt. Well, at least push her into the light of day a little.

The warmth of life and achievement was suffusing her. She was free. The constricting force of uselessness having drifted off her. At least somewhat.

“I suppose that depends on how it turned out.” She met his stare, silently asking a question she didn’t want to voice.

He glanced at his screen, the scratchy sound of
Fighting Against Attraction
echoing softly off the walls. “I’ve never seen anything so beautiful.”

He strolled forward, reached her side, and then sat at the top step leading to the tub. “Here.” He pivoted the cell toward her. “See for yourself.”

She raised her knees, blowing the bubbles away from her face as she cuddled her thighs to her chest. The video was dark, almost romantic with the faint orange hues of illumination glistening down on them from the ceiling. She moved around the screen, her motions majestic, soulful, just like she’d known they would be. She’d never danced with more passion than she had tonight. Her routine had never been this flawless. It was the only way she could make up for the physical appearance she had no control over. It had pushed her to create a magical moment, outdoing each and every performance from her impeccable past.

And Sean…

Her man was perfect. There was no other word to describe him—his moves, his emotion, the way his gaze ate her up and spat her out just like the lyrics demanded.

“Would you let Reckless Beat use this as the music clip?”

Her focus snapped to his eyes, those deep-blue irises that held her captive. “What do you mean? That clip is barely visible.” The lazy beat of her heart increased, pounding, thundering.

“I kinda like this darkened, whimsical look we’ve got going. It’s unique. It’s passionate. It’s us.”

She glanced at the screen, at the woman and man who were madly in love and unafraid to show it. “And what about Sasha?”

“There’ll be no clip with Sasha. I’ve already told Mason to inform whoever necessary that it won’t be going ahead.”

“So you’re telling me I have no choice…”

“No.” He shook his head. “With me, you’ll always have a choice. I just can’t stomach the thought of the world watching me dance
our dance
with someone else. I can’t do it. The band can just as easily fly to New York and create another performance-based video. It’s completely up to you.”

He ran a hand through her damp hair, delicately sweeping the stray strands off her face with his finger. For long moments, he remained silent, his focus eating away at her, telling her the story of his love and affection. Bathing her in his sincerity.

“Can you let me think on it?” The couple on the screen filled her heart with hope. The performance so profound, so raw that the glimpses of her scar were barely noticed, even to her.

“Of course.” He leaned in, placed a delicate kiss to her hair, and then stood. “I’ll leave you to the rest of your bath.”

“Wait.” She released the hold on her legs. “There’s one more thing I wanted to discuss with you.”

“Hmm?”

“After everything we’ve been through—” She moistened her lips and met his gaze. “—I still haven’t seen you naked.”

He let out a breath of laughter. Low. Deep. So damn fine her thighs clenched.

“I can say the same about you, pixie.”

She inclined her head.
True.

They’d slept together many times. He’d also now seen her at her most vulnerable. Still, she was nervous. Butterflies of anticipation took over her stomach. The burn of arousal heated her sex. Could anything be scarier than what she’d been through earlier today?

No
. Not when it was just the two of them.

Her and Sean.

The man of her dreams.

She raised her chin, sucked in a breath, and gripped the side of the bath. With pride tightening her belly and excitement fraying her nerves, she pushed to her feet, the rush of water and bubbles cascading down her body in a temporary waterfall.

Time stopped. They didn’t move. Didn’t speak. Only the faint coating of white, silky foam dared to move as it slid over her skin.

“I lied.” He stared. His attention roamed every inch of her, from her knees, to the apex of her thighs, and higher to her breasts. She held her breath, luxuriating in his admiration as he took a step forward. “
Now
I’ve never seen anything so beautiful.”

The heat in his eyes rocked her foundations more than his exquisite affirmation. His fingers rose, those strong, steady hands working to undo his already loosened tie. He yanked it over his head, let it fall to the floor, then began undoing his buttons, one by one, so slow she was sure the wait would kill her.

His white dress shirt was shoved off his shoulders, the material falling behind him as he raised a wicked brow, taunting her with his confidence.

“I’ve already seen that part.” She loved this. Loved him. He hadn’t even acknowledged her scar, didn’t even look there. As if it didn’t exist. And maybe it didn’t. Not to him.

“Such a greedy little pixie.” He unclasped his belt buckle, lowered his zipper and shucked his black pants. “Satisfied yet?”

“Almost,” she breathed. His legs were cords of muscle, thick, tight, so damn gorgeous. But it was higher, the erection held prisoner in his boxers that made her mouth salivate. “Take it all off.”

There was no chuckle now. No humor at all as he shoved the elastic waistband down his thighs, exposing more flesh then she had anticipated.
Whoa.
No wonder the sex between them was so good.

He cleared his throat and she glanced up at him, her cheeks heating in chagrin. This man was hers. Every inch. Every muscle. And by the end of the night, she would own it all.

“Ready?” he growled.

“For what?” Whatever it was, she was prepared. Between her thighs most of all. She’d follow him anywhere. Let him lead her to heaven and hell and back again.

His lip curled in a delicious smirk filled with promise and love.

Then he leapt for her.