Phoenix Broken (4 page)

For the first time, her words pulled him fully into the conversation. Scott gave up trying to find Docie May over her head, and really looked into the pair of eyes staring up at him.

Big grey eyes, soft and dark. Eyes that pulled him in and made him lose his train of thought. His earlier conversation with Merry echoed in his head for some reason, along with his response.

It's not something you forget.

Scott shook his head, shaking off the goosebumps that wanted to rise. He forced himself to remember who might be watching.
Focus.
Instead of grabbing at her this time, he took a breath and held out his hand, palm up. Allowing some of his old swagger to slip into his voice.

"The real question is,
can you keep up?"

She rolled her eyes, laughing. A delicious, seductive laugh that made a few men nearby turn their heads. For a moment, she hesitated, then with a shrug, put her hand in his. "Show me what you got, Johnny."

Scott gave her a genuine smile this time. Her eyes widened and her lips parted as she stared up at him, apparently transfixed. "You asked for it, angel."

In the Mood
was practically an anthem for anyone who’d ever dabbled in swing. Scott never dabbled. He was a firm believer in the old adage; if it's worth doing, it's worth doing better than anyone else. He'd learned swing on a bet, in North Korea during one of his deployments. He'd won the bet, collected his winnings and kept at it because he fucking loved it.

He'd met his wife because of it. The last time he'd danced had been at Fannie's funeral.

It shocked him how easy it was to slip into the familiar rhythms; snap, swirl, release, shake. His body warmed as they circled the floor. They were well-matched. She was only an inch or two shorter than him in her heels, the counter balance perfect as they worked off of one another. Kick, spin, jitter bug. Before long, Scott was enjoying himself. The sounds of the horns, the stomping feet, laughter, skirts swishing. The supple body under his hands.

She spun close for a second, her lips at his ear. “What you got doesn't suck.”

"Told you." He laughed at her, before whipping her around his back. When she snapped back in front of him, she was laughing, too.

“So,” he yelled over the music as they whirled apart. "Think you can handle it?"

She tossed her head. The twinkling lights cast a neon rainbow over her curls, highlighting the wicked sparkle in her eyes. “Oh, you ain’t seen nothing yet, Johnny.”

She was mesmerizing, twirling faster; that sexy laugh spinning out like a gossamer web. Pulling him in, making it impossible for him to step away.

To get back to business.

Scott found himself unable to take his eyes off her. Or his hands.

In the Mood
gave way to
Stompin’ at the Savoy
, which brought another roar from the crowd. More songs went by. He lost count.

Spinning, swirling. Colors, lights and sound. The smell of her hair, like sunshine and surf…

The music filled his ears, drowning everything else. His muscles tingled and pinged at every press and pull. This wasn't a workout for the sake of punishment, for the sake of drowning the emptiness inside of him. This was…

Fun.

Scott lost track of time, he lost track of Docie May. There was only the movement of his own body and the one so pliable and responsive against his.  The simple brush of soft skin and warmed muscles responding to his touch, the feel of her hands on him as they moved…

It stole over him like a drug. And for once Scott didn't fight it.

Laughing, sweaty, they finally moved to the bar. Scott sucked down another beer in short order, while she opted for water.

"So, you come here often?" He gave her a sly grin.

She lifted an eyebrow and smirked. "How original, Johnny."

"Hey, never mess with a classic."

"My first time. You?"

"My first time, too. Looks like we popped our cherries together."

Her lips curved as she looked at him over her glass. "Something tells me you learn your way around virgin territory pretty fast."

He returned her smile with a lazy one of his own. "You're not wrong."

Scott caught himself staring at her mouth. It was distracting as hell; a soft, pillowy pink that scrambled his thoughts. Was he flirting?

Was this him
…flirting?

No fucking way.

Playing a part, he told himself firmly.
Playing a goddamn part.

Yet, it took significant effort to pull his gaze from that mouth and the promise of it.

He ordered another beer. If he’d have been paying more attention, Scott might've noted the searching expression that flickered over her face and then faded. She looked down at her glass, chewing her lower lip.

She continued to watch him intently as she sipped her water, grey eyes darkening.

He didn't notice because his own vision had gone soft at the edges, the alcohol zipping through his veins along with the snap of adrenaline. His fingers tightened on the condensation slicked bottle as he raised it to his lips, his throat feeling oddly dry. Scott wasn't even close to drunk, but he was feeling damn good.

"Answer a question for me, Johnny?" Her low, purring voice added to the buzz he was riding.

"Sure. Ask away."

"It's kind of personal."

He stiffened slightly, then shrugged. "Go for it."

"You lonely tonight?"

Pain curled deep in his stomach, trying to steal the warmth of the night. He didn't answer her, but he didn't need to. She took one look at his face, then her fingers brushed his; warm and soft as flower petals before drifting away.

"Yeah. Me, too. Lonely's a real bitch." She didn't say anything else, just watched him, her eyes gentle.

Scott finished his beer, looking out at the dance floor.

The silence between them spun out, surprisingly comfortable, filled by the music and drone of the club around them. A few minutes later she took his hand. Scott looked over to see an invitation in her eyes. One he chose to misinterpret.

“Ready for more? I suppose I could go one—”

She didn't let him finish, but tugged him to his feet. Instead of heading back to the floor, she pulled him into an alcove just off the bar. Down a little hallway that seemed to lead to offices. A private area, obviously not for customers. The music was muffled back here, the crowd a distant roar.

Scott blinked for a minute, looking around in sudden confusion, thinking of Docie May for the first time since they'd started dancing. What the hell was he doing here?

Before he do anything, he found himself pressed back into the wall. With her lips on his neck, soft against his heated skin.

It shocked him. But not nearly as much as the desire that shot down his spine like an electrical current.

Scott's hands curved around her lush hips of their own violation, independent of his brain demanding,
what the fuck, man?

He knew what. His body was making that crystal fucking clear. He wanted her
.
Bad.
It had been building all night, but
the feeling was alien enough to him that he hadn't recognized it for what it was.

No…he'd
refused
to acknowledge it.

Numbness and pain and apathy and rage had been the extent of his emotional gamut for so long he'd forgotten there'd ever been anything else.

Anything like
this.

Her body was warm after their dancing. Every sweet curve pressed up against him. For the first time in a very long time, Scott didn't feel cold and angry. Or in pain. He felt
real
. Like a fucking man again.

His hands and mind wandered. Closing his eyes, Scott leaned back into the wall, kissing her hard; savoring every corner of that delectable mouth on his. She tasted amazing, like water straight from an icy spring after days in the desert.

His fingers slipped to the back of her dress, sliding over skin so silky that it pulled a groan straight from his gut. Drawing her closer, he lifted her to her toes. Aching to be free from the crushing blackness he'd been wrapped in for two long years. When she pulled away with a little gasp, Scott yanked her back, only to have her shove him into the wall.

"Hold up there, Johnny. I'm leading this round."

Looking him straight in the eye, she yanked his shirt out of his pants.

"And just
what
do you think you're doing?" He hissed as her small hands slid over his skin, tracing every ridge of muscle she found, the not so gentle scrap of her nails raising goosebumps and making his heart pound.

"Feeling you up. Isn't it obvious?" Her lips twitched.

His brain was short circuiting. The sensation of having a woman touch him like this again; skin to skin, all greedy and wanting. It felt…

Fucking amazing.

He couldn't move when her fingers switched direction, drifting down, her breath hot on his skin as she pushed up his shirt and knelt at his feet.

"Jesus Christ, anyone could see—" he sucked in a breath as her teeth nipped his taut lower stomach. His balls tightened instantly. Blood surged into his cock.

Shit, shit,
shit.

"Isn't that half the fun?" She sat back on her heels, trailing kisses down the dusting of dark gold hair that darted under his pants. He couldn't breathe as she flicked the button of his pants open, then worked his zipper down. Oh god, she wasn't going to—

Apparently she
was.
He groaned as she drew his sex out of his pants, giving him an appreciative smile and a firm squeeze that threatened to make his eyes roll back in his head. "I
knew
you'd have a gorgeous cock."

Scott sank back against the wall, unable to take his eyes off those pretty feminine hands; the short, violet-painted nails, her touch firm but so goddamn soft.

His hands clenched as he stared down at her. Her big eyes seemed to glow with a soft light as she studied him.

"You really
need
this, don't you?" Her tongue traced those sugary-pink lips. His cock jumped in her hands. "Looks like that's a yes, Johnny."

The next thing Scott knew he was in her mouth. Her warm, wet mouth. Those full lips taking in every inch of him she could, making his knees weak.

He shuddered all the way down to his fucking toes. Scott could see straight down the front of her dress from this angle. The firm curves of her breasts were a tantalizing visual, making the sensations rippling through him that much stronger.

He groaned again, his head falling back as she sucked him.

It felt so good. Her touch, her lips
.
He couldn't have moved from that spot for anything. He didn't
want
to move.

Scott wanted to stay right here for fucking
ever.

She teased his tip expertly, sucking and licking, swirling her tongue as the sound of the music drifted away under the roaring of his pulse. One small hand stayed wrapped around him, sliding up and down his length in time with her mouth. She was good at this. Very,
very
good.

Her other hand stayed on his upper thigh, her nails digging lightly into his skin. He drifted with the pleasure, letting it lap at him like her tongue, wave by delicious wave.

He could smell her still, clean and fresh over the thick heat of the club. This couldn't be real, yet it felt realer than anything in years. Scott sank his fingers into that soft, honey-colored hair, cupping the back of her head and coaxing her deeper. She hummed in approval, the vibrations taking him straight to the edge. His stomach rippled and his balls tensed.

Perfectly in tune with his body's response, she sped up, sucking harder…faster, her grip on his cock tightening…

His eyes rolled back, his thigh muscles going rigid. She slipped her fingers upward then, between his legs, cupping his balls as she went deep again.
So fucking deep.

His tip slammed into the back of her throat. Everything inside him went tight for one long, hard second, then erupted in a hot surge of bliss.

"Fuck, angel, I—"

There was no time to get the rest of the words out.

Scott's hand fisted in her hair as he came; his whole body shuddering hard as the orgasm rocked him. Lights flashed at the edges of his vision as his cock pulsed and emptied. She took it all, swallowing without hesitation as he tried to stay upright.

Holy fucking
shit.

His heart was racing, every nerve in his body pinging with pleasure. He could see down the hall, right to the edge of the bar. People dancing, glass winking in the lights from the dance floors.

For a moment everything was so surreal, Scott just stood there; breathing hard, staring blankly, his fingers buried in the silky tangles of her hair.