Sultry Groove (Reckless Beat #4) (16 page)

“Oh, fuckin’ hell.” He bucked. “You like being in control, don’t you?”

She always had. In every aspect of her life. Being adrift lately made her yearn all the more for a stronghold on the things she could bend to her will.

“You’re not in control of this, Red.”

She squeezed him tighter, trying to prove him wrong.

“
Fuck
.” He withdrew, flung her around with a heavy hand on her shoulder and got in her face. “This is
my
time. You’ve bossed me around all night, and I’ve done everything you asked. It’s my turn. You don’t make the rules. You don’t call the shots.”

He grabbed the back of her head and clenched his fist in her hair. “I need this, Red. I need to be the one who makes you feel good. Let me be in control.”

His brutal honesty pulled her up short. He made her realize this moment consisted of two people, not just one. Had she always been this selfish?

She nodded as he leaned his forehead against hers. “OK…” She rested her hand on his chest, loving the hard definition of muscle. “But just so you know, you’ve got some fucked-up shit going on in that pretty little head of yours, too.”

He chuckled as his mouth descended on hers. Then he was gone again, taking a step back and lowering on one knee to grip the sagging material between her thighs.

“I hope you aren’t attached to these.”

She opened her mouth to speak, and he cut off her reply with a harsh tug at the crotch of her pants. The accompanying sound of ripping material made her curse. He tore the seam, giving her legs free movement.

“I’ll buy you a new pair.” He stood and pulled her waistband over her hips. “These too.” He sank his fingers under the crotch of her G-string and yanked, tearing them apart.

She didn’t give a holy-crap about the clothing. She was too lost in lust to verbally acknowledge how hot it was to have them ripped from her body. He lifted her, his hands on her waist, and she eagerly wrapped her legs around him. Two steps forward and her back was to the wall, his cock plunging to the hilt in one glorious stroke.

“Jesus fucking Christ. I can’t get enough of you.” His words were groaned into her ear as his mouth fluttered against her neck.

She clawed at him, scoring his skin, and leaned forward to sink her teeth into his shoulder.

“You’re light as a damn feather,” he panted. “I could throw you around like a rag doll.”

She rolled her eyes, sinking her teeth harder. “Rag doll. Crack monkey. Pixie. Fairy. One more smooth compliment and I might swoon.”

“Sorry.” He enunciated his apology with a hard thrust of his hips again and again and again.

“Sean, I’m going to come.” She clung tight to his shoulders and clenched her thighs around the hardness inside her.

He withdrew. Completely. Leaving her needy pussy starved for more. The loss took over her body, working from her abdomen into her limbs, and finally coalescing in her chest. She needed him—his strength, his attention, his affection. She ached to have him take the pain away, not just for this moment, or the hours that would follow, but forever.

She didn’t want to feel alone anymore. Being with Sean was a high she didn’t want to forget. “Please.” She didn’t know what she was begging for—his pleasure, his adoration. Anything. This time when he slid home, he did it slowly, sinking into her in a punishing show of restraint.

He held her in a bear hug, driving into her with increasing torture. With each undulation, he groaned, dark, rumbling noises that vibrated into her chest. She clung tighter to him, using her leverage to match his thrusts, making the penetration as deep as it could possibly get.

“Make me come, Sean.” It was a command, something she hoped would irk a reaction.

Instead of the laughter, or a humor filled threat, he rested his forehead against hers and cupped the back of her head in one hand.

“All I want to do is make you feel good.” His lips brushed her jaw. “That’s all I want.”

She was humbled, and more than that, she was shocked. This was sex. No strings. Yet his words held a commitment she wasn’t sure she should get excited about.

His mouth scorched a trail to hers, and when he kissed her, she was done for. This was no longer a play session. This was much more. It was a changed path. His tongue wickedly stroked against hers, the same as his thrusts—gentle at first, then increasing into a ravishing pace. They clung to each other, their moves becoming jerky with the increase in tempo. Her pussy began to clench, tighter and tighter, building to a point she couldn’t control.

He groaned into her mouth, his hand clutching the back of her neck to the point of pain. His hunger washed over her, sending her toppling into an orgasm that not only consumed her abdomen, but her entire body. She screamed against his lips. She couldn’t contain it. All control had vanished as her shoulders collided with the wall, their teeth clanging.

She was lost. To him. To this thing between them. She didn’t want it to end. Yet, it did. The bliss dissipated as Sean returned to reality with her, his grip still clutching her tight. Numb from sensation overload, she lowered to shaky feet and allowed him the necessary moments to dispose of the protection.

She pulled on her bra and top as she waited, then stared down into the darkened view to see the gaping hole where the crotch of her pants used to be.

“Here.” Sean’s voice was sex-roughened. “Take my tank and wrap it around you.”

She grasped for his offering, running it through her fingers as she fought the urge to smell his masculine cologne from the material. “Thanks.”

“It’s the least I could do.” He chuckled. “Are you ready to go home now?”

“Am I allowed?”

“After that, you’re allowed to do anything you damn well please.” He leaned in, placing a brief kiss against her lips. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Sid.”

Silence reigned. Only the heavy sound of pained heartbeats echoed in her ears. She didn’t know who stiffened first, but they both acknowledged the mistake with a quick inhale of breath.

“
Fuck
, Red, I’m sorry.” In the dim lighting, she could see his brows drawn together and his mouth set in a straight line. “It was just a slip of the tongue. Sidney’s the only woman I’ve been around for months.”

“No problem.” She tried to hide the bitterness in her tone. Tried and failed.

Sean hung his head. “I spoke to her earlier tonight. About Ryan. She was worried about him, and as soon as I kissed you goodbye I started to think about what he was going to be like once I got home, and what Sidney had said and—”

“Forget it.” Her tone was softer this time. Almost believable to her own ears. “It was a mistake. That’s all.” They weren’t in a relationship. They weren’t dating. Just dance rehearsals and sex. She knew better than anyone that he’d called her almost every endearment under the sun since they met. What was another woman’s name to add to the list?

“I feel like an asshole.”

“Only now?” She quirked a brow when he raised his gaze. “You taunted me with my own underwear. You flirted with me, continuously, even when I asked you to stop. And
now
is the time you feel like an ass?” She snorted. “Bit late for that.”

His lips quirked. “This is different. I’m not sorry for the other stuff.”

She laughed this time, letting the annoyance sail from her system under the temptation of his mouth. “I’m going home. I’ll see you tomorrow.” She stepped away and he grabbed her hand, pulling her into his arms. Every time he bent her to his will, challenging her with the force of his strength, her heart constricted for more.

His eyes were tired, the darkness of his stubble making him appear all the more masculine. “Red.” He paused, his gaze searching hers. “Pixie.” The side of his lips curved as if the nickname was a secret only the two of them shared. “I’m already looking forward to tomorrow.”

She was too. More and more as the minutes passed. “Well, then, hurry up and leave so we can get back here sooner.” She pushed from his chest, not wanting to fall under his spell and stupidly invite him to spend the night. What she wouldn’t give to fall asleep beside him. To wake up and not feel lonely because of who she was or what she’d become.

“Goodnight, Sean.” She strode for the light switch, his fingers slowly loosening their grip the further they drifted apart.

“Goodnight, gorgeous.”

“Sean, you need
to concentrate.”

A grin tugged at his lips as he met Red’s unimpressed glower. “I am.”

“On something other than my ass,” she growled. “Let’s try it again.”

He chuckled as she swung her back to him and regained the starting position of the first chorus. The lack of concentration wasn’t his fault. It was entirely hers. After two and a half days of dance rehearsals, he couldn’t think past the need to touch her. Everywhere. Even the thought of playing with her cute little toes got his pulse racing, and he wasn’t a foot kink kind of guy.

“Ready?”

He blinked back into focus. “Yep.”

She turned, sashaying her hips toward him. He grabbed her wrist and yanked her into his chest. Her ponytail whipped his face as she turned in his arms, then dropped into a split and used his thighs for leverage to pull herself backward through his legs.

“Thank Christ for small favors,” he murmured, relieved she didn’t head-butt his cock on the way through this time.

“It happened once. Get over it.”

He bent at the waist, grabbed her ankle and dragged her back through his legs. “Unfortunately for you, my dick likes to hold a grudge.” He secured his hands around her biceps and lifted her, clutching her tight to his chest in perfect timing.

Her thighs wrapped around him, and she leaned back, stretching her stomach and the curve of her remarkable breasts as he swung her gently from side to side. When her hands dropped to the ground, he loosened his hold, allowing her to flip backward with her hands on the floor and slide out of reach once more.

“Perfect.” She jumped to her feet, a smile plastered across her face. “Two and a half rehearsals and I think you already have it. That’s pretty impressive.”

Finally.
He’d been trying to impress her the whole time, more so since Sunday night’s fuck-up. His slip of the tongue still haunted him. It was a reality check on how he’d been treating her. He promised Leah he wouldn’t mess around, and he would stay true to that vow. The only thing he couldn’t control was his affection for her. He liked Red. A lot.

He lay awake Sunday night, cursing into the darkness until Ryan yelled from the room across the hall to shut the fuck up. She hadn’t made a big deal out of him calling her Sidney, probably because she had no clue how monumental it was. Still, he felt inclined to make it up to her.

Monday he kept his hands to himself. As much as humanly possible when their dance routine required an abundance of touchy feely. He took everything she said seriously, determined to impress her with his moves instead of his lines.

Little by little, he won her over. Her routine, if possible, became more fluid. She began trusting he would be there to catch her when she jumped. Or flipped. He started seeing the choreographer disappear under the weight of a mesmerizing artist.

He fell, harder, faster, the sensation more consuming every minute.

Sunday, he left her with a chaste kiss and another woman’s name on his lips. Monday, he made up for his mistakes by saying goodbye with a whispered compliment on her beauty and a sweet peck on her cheek. Tonight, he would leave her with a promise and a commitment for more.

He had to leave town tomorrow to start filming another music clip in New York. He wouldn’t get home until Saturday morning. An eternity away. And knowing most of the time apart would be spent with Mason and Sidney mauling each other at every opportunity made it all the worse. He needed something to look forward to, and that was Red.

“Can we call it a night?”

Her long length of strawberry-blonde hair flung over her shoulder as she glanced at him. “You’re ready to go home?”

No. He was ready to spend the night at her house and wake up with his tiny pixie in his arms. But he wasn’t going to push too fast too soon. His concentration over the last forty-eight hours had brought insight. He’d learned some of her nuances. Although her flinching wasn’t as prominent anymore, he’d realized it only happened when he touched her left hip. There was nothing wrong with her right. She also didn’t like being complimented unless he was specific. He could tell her she had beautiful eyes, or her flips were amazing. However, if he generalized, mentioning her overall beauty by saying she was gorgeous, she stiffened and changed the subject.

The time apart would help calm his enthusiasm, and the need to get answers out of her. After she’d brought light back into his life, he wanted to do the same for her. He couldn’t do that until she trusted him with her secrets.

“It’s getting late and I have an early flight tomorrow.”

“Oh, yeah.” Her brows furrowed. “I completely forgot about your trip.”

“No big deal.” He strode to her, clasping her hand in his. They hadn’t had a quiet moment together since Sunday, and now the familiar gentle touch was more intense. It held more meaning. He kept his focus on their entwined fingers and ran his thumb along the lines of her palm. “Will you come to my place on Saturday?”

His heart thumped. In a few quick words, he’d been transported back to his teenage years where women were an enigma he couldn’t figure out. In reality, he hadn’t played the dating game since. All he’d had were copious amounts of sexual conquests. Sincerity was new to him.

“What’s on Saturday?” Red’s voice was low, cautious, dragging his focus to her questioning eyes.

“Nothin’, really.” He shrugged a shoulder and looked away. “I return in the morning and thought maybe we could catch up for dinner. Maybe do a quick run over of the dance moves to refresh my memory before the rehearsal on Sunday night.”

“Oh.” She nodded in his periphery and disentangled their fingers. “I’m sure you’ll be fine without the recap.”

Brushed off.

“Right…” Fuck this cautious shit. He didn’t know how to tread carefully. It didn’t fit right. He also lacked patience. “What if dinner had nothing to do with the music clip and everything to do with seeing you again? Then would you come?” He was standing on a god-damn ledge, waiting for her to shoot him down.

“Is that really what you want?” Her tone sharpened. “I know we started off strong, but since Sunday you’ve been different. I gathered you changed your mind about fooling around.”

“Pfft.” He laughed with derision. “I fucked up on Sunday. I still feel like shit for what I said.”

Red turned, stalking to the front of the room. “It’s just a name, Sean. I didn’t think it was that big a deal.”

He ground his molars, hating the lie sitting on the tip of his tongue. “Yeah, I suppose. I’ve been trying to be on my best behavior because I didn’t want to ruin whatever this thing is between us.”

She paused in the middle of the room and slowly turned on her heel. “And what
is
this thing between us?”

He loved that look, the insecurity in her eyes hidden behind the slight rise of her stubborn chin. What he wouldn’t give to blurt out how he felt. To throw caution to the wind and disregard how little he knew her, and the blaring obvious sign he was on the rebound, and tell her he wanted her. Just her. Only her. Whatever that meant.

“It’s whatever you want it to be.”

She raised a brow and turned on her heels again. Maybe he should’ve blurted the emotional shit instead. Surely she’d forget his stupidity by the time he returned from New York.

“Right,” she muttered. “Let’s go.” She grabbed her keys off the wooden bench seat and bathed them in darkness with the flick of her hand against the light switch.

“So what about Saturday?” He jogged to catch up to her and scrambled for his belongings as he passed the bench.

“I’ll think about it.” She unlocked the front door and began pulling it open as he approached.

“Not good enough.” He reached over her shoulder, slamming the wood shut.

“You’re going to talk to me about not being good enough?” She turned into his chest. “I’ve been waiting for you to man up for two days.” She raised onto her toes, trying to act domineering and failing miserably with her impish height.

“Man up, huh?” He leaned in, to the point where her heated breath brushed his lips. From the shadows, she gnawed the inside of her cheek, staring him down. “And what would that involve?”

She growled. “Forget it.”

She lowered to her heels and turned to the door. He didn’t have time to make a move, to push his hardening cock against her ass and give her what she wanted, because in an instant, she swung back around, plastering her mouth against his hard enough to knock him senseless.

Pain seared his lips from her ferocity. The best fucking pain he’d ever experienced. He felt it in his mouth, his chest, all the way to his toes, mingling with the onslaught of rapture. “Fuck.” He stepped into her, thrusting her against the door. Her whimper made him pause, like he’d bludgeoned a god-damn puppy with one movement. Then she was all over him, her arms running around his neck, one leg wrapping around his hip.

“Took you long enough,” she murmured into his mouth.

“Give me a break. I was trying to be a gentleman.”

Her arms loosened as she pulled back, her shadowed gaze searing him. “Why?”

Yeah, Sean, why?
He couldn’t explain. The issues with Sidney would send her running, and mentioning her bike accident might make her want to give him a second circumcision. He had to keep his mouth shut. “I didn’t want to push you.”

“Right…Because I’m a wilting wallflower.”

He snorted. “I didn’t want to scare you off.”

“From what? Great sex? We only have a limited amount of nights together.”

He closed his eyes, not wanting this thing between them to be finite. Already, he couldn’t imagine going through a day without seeing her. She’d given him back his happiness and the thought of losing it again made him cold.

“This could be more than just great sex.”

Her arms unraveled completely, her hands moving to rest gently on his shoulders. “Is that what you want?”

“I don’t know.” Biggest fucking lie he’d ever told. Only problem was, he needed to make sure he was completely over Sidney. He was almost positive he was already there. The extra days apart would cement his decision. His nights were no longer spent thinking about Mason’s fiancée. His days were consumed with Red. “Why don’t we stick to fun for now?”

She nodded. “I’m happy with that.”

Her nails scoured his neck, all the way up to the back of his head. She raised on her toes, brushed her lips against his, making him crazy with the way her tongue immediately entered his mouth.

“Not here.” Caution be damned. He wanted to wake up next to her. “Take me back to your place.”

She froze. “That’s not a good idea. I have early classes in the morning. I can’t be up with you all night.”

Bye, bye, erection.
Fuck
. He couldn’t believe he was about to cock block his own dick. “I’ll behave. Promise. I need a good night sleep myself. But I’m not ready to say goodbye. Let me stay with you until morning. No sex necessary.”

“That bullshit-meter of mine has suddenly started working again.”

He grinned into the darkness and leaned into her. “No bullshit this time. I need to be up earlier than you. Let me crash. If you decide you can’t keep your hands off me, so be it. Otherwise, we’ll just snuggle.”

Snuggle?
Fucking snuggle!
Mason would kick his ass if he heard that drivel. And Blake and Mitch. Jesus Christ, he didn’t want to contemplate the verbal thrashing he’d receive if those words were ever repeated.

“Sean?”

He winced at the humor in her tone. “Forget I said that.”

“Uh huh.”

Red snickered to herself as he ushered her out of the studio. She snickered as he led the way to her house around the corner. And she was still fucking snickering as she locked her front door behind them and flicked on the lights in her open living room and kitchen area.

“You can stop now,” he muttered.

“I can’t help it. Every time I picture the hardcore, dominant, I-wax-my-balls muscle man and align him with the soft and cuddly I-wanna-snuggle guy, they simply don’t align.”

He could ignore the laughter if he didn’t look at her. All he had to do was divert his attention, otherwise he was going to find himself wrapped around her, their legs and arms entangled. He’d take her on the floor. Or the kitchen counter. He didn’t care. But he wouldn’t have the patience to turn the lights off. He’d be all over her like a teenager at a whore house.