The Sextet - Dirty Dancing [The Sextet Anthology, Volume 2] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)

Letter to Readers

Dear Readers,

If you have purchased this copy of
Dirty Dancing
by The Sextet from BookStrand.com or its official distributors, thank you. Also, thank you for not sharing your copy of this book.

Regarding E-book Piracy

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This is the authors’ livelihood. It’s fair and simple. Please respect their right to earn a living from their work.

Amanda Hilton, Publisher

www.SirenPublishing.com

www.BookStrand.com

DEDICATION

My heartfelt thanks to Julie for convincing me to give this whole publishing thing a whirl.

Chapter 1

“I cannot believe I let you talk me into this.” Juliana Barrington folded her arms over her breasts and leveled a hard stare at Craig Everett. Why she still followed the man wherever he led was beyond her.

Duh
. Because he was gorgeous and her fascination with him hadn’t waned one iota over the years she’d known him. “Why do we have to win the stupid contest anyway?” she asked. “It’s just another fundraiser.”

“C’mon, Jules. You’ve worked with me long enough to know I hate to lose at anything.” He raked his fingers through his short brown hair, but it still fell perfectly into place—stylish but messy. “I know it’s for charity, but I sure as hell don’t want to lose to that idiot Humphrey again.”

She couldn’t help but roll her eyes as she reached to tighten the tie on her ponytail. “You’re still sore about
that?
It was just a tennis match, and…what was it? A year ago?”

His brown eyes narrowed, and that handsome face flushed. “Eleven months, and he won’t ever let me forget it. Brags every fucking time I see him.”

“Be honest,” Juliana said. “This dancing thing is because he got the part in that Bruce Willis movie, isn’t it?”

“Damn right, it’s about that! I look a helluva lot more like Bruce Willis’s kid than Humphrey does!” A snorted laugh slipped out. “Except he’s losing his hair just like Bruce. Look, babe, all I’m asking is a couple of weeks. We take some lessons, we dance our asses off, and we make Humphrey and that peroxide blonde bimbo of his look like amateurs. What do you say?”

If Craig hadn’t flashed her that toothpaste commercial smile, Juliana might have been able to resist. This time was different because she’d lost her immunity to his charms. His fault entirely. The last movie they’d worked on together, he’d suddenly turned into a shameless flirt, always throwing her that smile that he seemed to know melted her like snow in bright sunshine. Up until then, she’d considered them to be nothing more than friends, despite all the intriguing and horribly naughty fantasies she’d always tried to keep at bay.

Her tastes in sex would probably be seen as a tad…extreme to some people. Telling a man she adored about her proclivities was a sure way to send him running. No, she’d never shared her desire for multiple partners with anyone. So they remained fantasies rather than fond memories. God forbid the paparazzi ever got wind of her unusual tastes! Her career would be dead, and she’d be just another Paris Hilton. Juliana lived in virtual celibacy, her desires forbidden. She’d become a fucking nun in the last few years, intimate only with her fantasies.

Craig had changed the nature of their friendly relationship—one she’d always considered nothing but professional—when she wasn’t paying attention. Showing up with a long-stemmed rose he’d handed to her in front of the makeup crew before planting a kiss on her temple so he didn’t mess up their work. Knocking on her trailer door to give her a vanilla latté he evidently knew she loved to drink while she ran her lines for the day. A peck on the lips after an emotionally draining scene. She found it harder and harder to keep the man at an emotional distance.

He haunted both her life and her dreams, no matter how hard she tried to extract him from both.

Not that she thought he was genuinely interested in her. That would have been a miracle. Yet she read the same industry rags and heard all the same gossip as everyone else in motion pictures. Craig was known to charm many another woman with the same tactics. She wasn’t about to put her heart on the line for a guy who was as fickle as any other good-looking actor, even if she adored him. No, she wouldn’t let him hurt her, and the ice surrounding her heart would remain in place whenever he was around. The only thing she’d ever admit her desires about Craig to was her vibrator.

About the time Juliana had lied to herself that she could handle her feelings for the man while they shot their current flick came the invitation for the costars to pair up for a dance competition to raise money to combat childhood leukemia. She and Craig had been assigned a rumba. Knowing nothing about ballroom dancing, she immediately headed to her computer and was dismayed to find out the rumba was known as the “dance of love” and that it involved the dancers giving the illusion of seducing each other right there in front of all the observers. How was she supposed to deal with his flirting when she also had to grind her hips against his? It was already hard enough to keep her hands off him.

Hopefully, their instructor would be sixty and fat as Buddha so none of her fantasies of taking two lovers would invade the already volatile situation. If he looked half as good as Craig, she was in a world of trouble.

Tanned hands with long, elegant fingers suddenly waved in front of her. “Juliana? Hello? Where’d you go?”

Heat spread over her cheeks. “Sorry. Just thinking.”

“C’mon,” Craig coaxed, taking her hand in his and dragging her toward the dance studio doors. “It’ll be fun.” When he leaned in to kiss her cheek, her face grew warmer. “I’ll make it up to you. Dinner after every lesson. Your choice of restaurant. My treat.”

“Dates?” He wanted to go on dates?

“Sure. Call them whatever you like, so long as I get you inside that studio and dancing.” He tugged at her hand. “This guy’s supposed to be the best. Coached Tricia Dare and Jon Delaney when they were filming
Dance for Your Life.
Said he changed their lives. Jon claimed their sex life went into overdrive.” Even his wink was sexy.

“Yeah, and that movie ended up going direct to DVD. Didn’t they divorce a couple of months ago?”

“But the dancing was
so
damned hot! Some lessons from this guy, and we’ll kick ass in the contest.” Turning on that charm that made all the women who saw any of his movies melt, he raised her hand and pressed those full, soft lips to her skin. “For me,
cherie?
”

Shivers raced the length of her spine as heat pooled between her legs. Shit, her panties were probably getting soaked. Juliana had wanted Craig from the moment they met on the set of
Die, Die Again XI
. Their first scene together had been acting like horny teenagers, then getting hacked to death by an ax-wielding psychopath about fifteen minutes after the opening credits. But it had earned her a union card, she’d met a producer who’d been impressed enough to cast her in his Regency drama, and her acting career was launched.

Over the next three years, Craig had popped up in her life from time to time, though not as often as she would have liked. They’d connected at that party for the opening of a restaurant, a TV series they guest-starred on together, and one Broadway play that closed far too soon. Each time she saw him, he captivated Juliana just a little more. She would never tell him how many times she’d seen his first starring role in
Chase the Moon
, sitting in the theater, munching on popcorn and tying Twizzlers into knots while she cried when his character took the grenade for his best friend. How in the hell had Craig’s performance escaped the notice of the Golden Globes and the Oscars? In her mind, he was the best actor in the world. So why not go ahead and dance the rumba with him?

“Fine,” Juliana finally blurted out. Dancing couldn’t be that hard. She’d been a gymnast for pity’s sake. Plus now, she had an excuse to spend time with Craig beyond their passing business relationship. “Fine,” she said again with more conviction.

“Thanks, Jules. I knew I could count on you.” He jerked the studio door open, put his hand against the small of her back, and gave her a gentle push.

* * * *

Thank the Lord Jules had agreed. Craig had given her nothing but a flimsy excuse, like he gave a shit about winning a damn dance competition. They’d earn some money for the charity, but being with Juliana was his main motive. Humphrey Kearns
was
a pompous British prick, and kicking his skinny ass up and down the dance floor might be nice… But holding Jules in his arms for hours of practice?

Priceless.

He’d never told her how often he thought about her, how many times her image invaded his dreams. Hell, he’d even had a couple of wet dreams about her like he was some stupid teenager again. She probably thought he was just a friend, someone she worked with from time to time or saw at social functions. How could she know he’d constantly kept his ear to the ground, listening to gossip he really didn’t care about simply to find out when she’d taken whatever her newest role was so he could find a way to wiggle into that production?

That Broadway play?
What a fucking dog!
But because he’d begged the producer for a part, they’d had six weeks of rehearsals and two weeks where he got to kiss her twice on stage every single performance—five nights a week plus two matinees. The hardest thing about that—other than his dick—had been not sliding his tongue in her sweet mouth every time his lips touched hers.

Dancing was supposed to be romantic. Holding Jules in his arms, Craig figured he could coax her, tease her, and…
What was it they called it in the old days?
Ah, yes.
…he would
woo
her. The “Ice Queen”—the name she’d earned on sets by rebuffing every male actor’s advances—wouldn’t be easily won. But she was more than worth the extra effort. No, the tabloids had it all wrong when they suggested she might not like men. He’d sensed her passion, and he had plans to discover just how deep and hot it truly ran.

When the dance coordinators had asked which dance he wanted to do, he requested a rumba because it was a dance where he could have his hands on every inch of her delectable body. He’d chosen a long shirt strictly for the occasion of this first lesson since his cock rose to attention anytime Juliana was near. Even with the draping of the shirt, she’d probably still notice the minute he held her close. With some luck, if she discovered how much she turned him on, he could turn her on too.

“Hello, my friends!” a deep voice with a thick Argentinean accent called from across the large room. “You are here for lessons,
sí?
”

“Yep. Rumba lessons.”

“Rumba,
sí.
” The man strode from the shadows of the far side of the room. Juliana’s quick inhale told Craig all he needed to know, but he stared anyway. Their instructor was what girls called a hottie. Exotic. Dark hair that brushed his shoulders. Olive skin. An Antonio Banderas clone—a young Antonio Banderas. Craig snatched a glimpse at Juliana who was now panting like a horse that had just run the Kentucky Derby.

Great
. She was in spontaneous heat over the dance instructor instead of him.

“I am Alejandro Rivas.” He rolled each R as he reached for Juliana’s hand, lifted it as he bowed to her, and touched his lips to her skin.

Craig fisted his hands at his sides, trying to rein in the jealousy that ate at his gut. Now he had competition for Juliana’s attention that would be hard to fight, and it wasn’t as if they could share her, although that thought sent a jolt of pleasure straight to his cock.

Taking a deep breath, he reached for her other hand. “I’m Craig Everett. This is Juliana Barrington.” He inclined his head at Jules as he gently tugged her to his side.

“A pleasure to meet you both. If you would be so kind as to follow me.” His hand swept toward an archway. “We shall have our lesson. You both have much to learn.”

* * * *

The room was incredible. Enormous mirrors lined the farthest wall. The intricate pattern on the hardwood floor was hypnotic. Dim lighting set a romantic mood. Here she was with two incredibly handsome men who were going to hold her in their arms and spin her around the dance floor. No wonder her libido kicked into overdrive, her fantasies of multiple lovers mixing with the reality to twist her stomach into frustrated knots of desire.

Juliana squeezed her thighs a little tighter together as she watched Alejandro pick up a remote and push a few buttons. A sensual Latin beat filled the room. Her hips seemed to want to sway of their own volition, and Alejandro’s smile only drew her deeper into the mood. When he crooked his finger, reminding her so much of a seductive Patrick Swayze gesturing to Jennifer Grey in
Dirty Dancing
, she all but began to purr. Damn, the man was hot. So was Craig. She put a little wiggle in her walk and gave her long, gauzy skirt a swish as she went to Alejandro’s beckon, hoping to tease both men the way they were effortlessly taunting her.

“We start with the steps.” He grabbed her hand and whirled her around to face him, making her skirt flare out in a big circle. His other hand reached for her waist.

Juliana let him take her fingers and looked at him expectantly, having no idea what he wanted of her.

“Now, you watch my hips,
sí
?” Alejandro said. He took a step toward her, rotating his slim hips. “As I step toward you, you step away.
Bueno
. Now as I step back, your foot will chase.” A smooth, seductive smile. “Much like making love, a give and take. Forward and back before plunging forward again. Tempo. Movement. Life.”