by Eden Summers
“That wasn’t what—“
“I know. Trust me, I know exactly how you feel. I’m swimming in the same hell-hole.”
A spark of annoyance burst to life in his chest. “You have no idea.” His voice rose of its own accord, and he winced, not wanting to take his frustration out on someone who didn’t deserve it.
Her hand fell from his arm, and she held his gaze. “I do. I know what it’s like to want someone you can’t have.”
Huh? Alcohol had distorted his ability to concentrate. He had no clue who she was talking about. “Do you have a thing for Mason?”
Her eyes widened and disgust contorted her beautiful face. “That is wrong. On so many levels.” She shuddered. “How could you…” She shuddered again. “Christ. No.”
Sean’s head lolled, confused, tired, too damn heavy to think clearly.
“Come on.” She linked elbows again and tugged him to the table at the back of the marquee to pour him a glass of water. “Once you finish a few of these, you should feel better.”
“I don’t want to feel better. I want to feel numb. I want to be distracted.”
She pulled two chairs from the formation outlining the inside of the marquee, dragged them to the table beside him, and sat down. “You want to be distracted by Mel, you mean?”
Mel? The little pixie? “You mean Red?”
“Christ, Sean, you can’t even remember her name.”
He may not remember, but the picture in his mind was crystal clear. “The whole time I had my eyes closed, leaning against Ryan’s legs, all I could see was Sidney.” He gulped his water, already dreading the clarity it would bring. “I dream about her, Leah. I can’t stop thinking about her. Then I opened my eyes, and Red was there. Cute as hell. And for a second, I didn’t even think of my best friend fuckin’ the woman I’m head over heels for. I was lost in those doe eyes. It no longer hurt to breathe.” He clenched his glass, wishing it would break so the shards would slice through his palm, making him focus on physical pain instead of emotional.
“It’ll get easier.”
He scoffed. “When? At the wedding? Watching Sidney walk down the aisle? Or maybe when they have kids.” He shook his head and regretted the action when the marquee swayed with it. “I go home alone every night and I see them together. I see it in my mind, because I’ve been there, in the room, sharing the moment with them. It drives me insane.”
Leah didn’t reply. He didn’t expect her to. So they sat in silence, him sipping his fucked up water while his gaze found Red in the crowd. He watched her mingle, noting the way her loose hair gleamed in the twinkling lights whenever she moved. She had an air of nervousness about her, and didn’t dress to accentuate all her features. In fact, her clothing was modest. She was the only woman not showing off what he assumed were flawless, athletic pins.
It may be due to the imminent threat of alcohol poisoning, but he appreciated her lack of visible skin. It made him all the more eager to find out what those dancer legs looked like underneath all that material.
“Mel’s a great woman.”
He closed his eyes briefly, anticipating where Leah was going to lead the conversation. “I’m not going to use and abuse her. Jesus Christ. All I did was call her a pixie.” And maybe drool a little.
“That’s not what I’m saying. I’m not your mother, or your sitter. I can’t tell you who to date.” Leah kicked his boot, demanding his attention. “If I wanted you to stay away from her, I wouldn’t be here trying to get you to sober up. I would’ve told you to go home and guilted you into believing you were ruining Mason’s engagement party.”
Sean scowled. She was right. “So what are you doing?”
“I want you to be happy. And I want you to have that distraction. I just need the level-headed, caring Sean to be onboard when he tries to seduce the woman he has to work with for the next few weeks. Not the slurring drunk who is likely to fuck things up with his insults before the project has even started.”
“But she looks like—”
“Shhhhhhhh.” She kicked his boot again, this time hard. “For future reference, women do not appreciate being referred to as pixies. Or fairies, or witches, or trolls for that matter. OK? Keep the compliments to the realm of reality and away from mythological creatures. Hear me?”
He rolled his eyes and went back in search of Red.
Leah shoved his shoulder. “Hear me?”
“Yes.” He glared. “Jesus Christ.”
He chugged the remainder of his glass and refilled it, determined to sober up and ditch his babysitter. At least he had a goal now—drink a river of water, spend the next hour draining his bladder, and then drown his infatuation with his best friend’s girl by sinking his teeth into a little ginger.
***
Melody lifted her face to the night sky, enjoying the cool air drifting over her skin. The party was below her expectations, in a good way. She’d been daunted by the prospect of a formal event, thinking it would be a sit down, set seating meal, giving guests the opportunity to scrutinize her. In reality, it was the opposite. Everyone mingled amongst themselves, coming and going as they pleased. And as Melody pleased, she was currently roaming the far end of the property, alone, concealing herself behind the trees.
Tonight was a reminder of how much she’d changed in the last eleven months. Usually, she was the life of the party, demanding the world’s attention at every opportunity, especially if there was a dance floor. Now, all she wanted was seclusion. The peace associated with being by herself. From extrovert to introvert in the blink of an eye.
“Hiding, Red?”
She gasped, the masculine drawl sending her heart racing in an instant, and not entirely from fright. “Holy hell.” She swung around, becoming transfixed by the smirk curving Sean’s lips. “You scared me.”
She wasn’t hiding exactly. Well, OK, maybe she was. Witnessing everyone else kick up their heels in dance made her a little heartsick. “I was just admiring the view.”
“Me too,” he drawled.
She narrowed her gaze, scrutinizing him, needing to see if the lust in his voice was etched into his features. Yep, totally there. He stared at her, his piercing blue eyes announcing he wasn’t talking about the full moon.
“I see you’ve sobered a little. Enough to walk unaided, at least.” She grinned at herself, proud of the sheepish look he now sported.
“I’m gradually regaining my equilibrium. Not entirely there yet.”
He still had the intoxicated glaze in his eyes. But at least he was standing. That was a bonus.
“Don’t like crowds?” he asked, handing her a fresh champagne flute.
“No, thank you.” She held up her hand to stay the glass and bit back the rest of her reply. The old Melody would’ve verbally sparred with him, driving his interest to new heights, spurring him into desire in a matter of moments. She still itched to tease him, but there was no point. Bringing more attention to herself wasn’t a goal. In fact, it was the opposite of what she wanted to achieve.
“You were going to say something.” He squinted and made her belly tumble in response. “What was it?”
She shook her head. “It was nothing.”
“You shy?” The corner of his lips kicked up in a cheeky grin that smashed the thugishness away from his features.
“No.” She frowned, determined not to become too endeared. “I was just going to say, I’m not really a social butterfly. I’m more of a private pixie.”
His mouth widened into a full-blown grin that sent a thrill of excitement from her belly all the way to her toes.
“Really?” He raised a brow. “You seemed at home mingling with the other guys. I was kinda jealous.”
Holy heavens, she missed flirting. There was something about a man’s undisguised attention that made her heart race—even more so now because it had been so long between ego-boosting sessions.
“Oh, don’t worry, this pixie has a lot of attention to share. I just give it out in small doses.�
� It was a lie. She didn’t want to give anyone attention or receive it in return, for that matter, but her soul needed to tease him. That slight buzz of an excited thrill still warmed her veins, making her feel alive again.
“OK, I get it.” He held up his hands in surrender, spilling champagne over the edge of the glass he carried. “I apologize. My pixie comment was meant as a compliment. Clearly, women don’t find it endearing.”
“Clearly.” She pressed her lips together to fight a laugh. Sean had been a curiosity while slumped on the floor. Dark, mysterious, and large enough to make her shiver in both fear and attraction. Now that he could speak in coherent, mostly non-slurred sentences, she was entirely charmed. It was his eyes, sweet and playful, set amongst a ruggedly handsome face that made her intrigued to learn more about him even though she should’ve been distancing herself and establishing professional boundaries.
“So what brings you out here to the secluded corner of the property, Sean? I hope you weren’t coming to spill your guts…literally speaking.”
It was a game. A pretense. She’d been out of the dating scene so long she couldn’t help testing the waters. Any minute now, she’d stop returning his flirtation and treat him like any other student. Just as soon as her chest stopped pounding.
Any. Minute. Now.
“Ha. Ha. Ha. You’re quite funny for a fairy.”
She raised a brow. From a pixie to a fairy. Was that an improvement?
“I was actually searching for you.” He stepped closer, making her retreat toward the nearby tree. “I thought you might’ve left without sayin’ goodbye.”
Really? He was looking for her? She masked the thrill his admission elicited behind a mask of indifference. “And miss out on the opportunity for another one of your swoony compliments? No way.”
This time he didn’t chuckle, he continued to grin, reading her, concentrating harder and harder on her face, almost shattering her temporary confidence into pieces. “You are the perfect distraction, do you know that?”
Distraction? Maybe this conversation would make more sense when he was sober. She lowered her gaze, unable to withstand his potent scrutiny. “Ohhkay…”
He took another step, the hint of his aftershave drifting forward, almost making her reach on her toes to follow the masculine scent in the air.
“So, Red, are we going to get up close and personal?”
“Umm.” Time to stop. He was already in her personal space, making it uncomfortable to breathe in a needy type of way. As much as she liked playing house, there was no future to this teasing. “I don’t think—”
“In the music video.”
Right. Of course.
His grin was too damn proud and charming. He taunted her, tried to push her out of her comfort zone. He was succeeding. “I’ve spoken to your label as well as Leah. They’ve given me the freedom to create what I think is appropriate as long as it has a sexy, romantic feel.”
“So we will be getting close and personal.” His voice dropped to a husky murmur, skittering over her nerves like a lover’s caress.
The tightening of her nipples announced what her mind tried to deny—she wasn’t as immune to sexual advances as she used to be. It had been too long since she’d been admired. Even longer since she’d slept with a man. Her last relationship had fractured the same day she asked to be released from her dancing contract with pop artist Jaxon Sharpe. All that heartache seemed like a lifetime ago, even though it was only eleven months.
“Yes.” She licked her lips, unable to stop the motion, seeing as he kept glancing at her mouth. “Very close.”
“Like this?” He raised a devilish brow, stepping closer. Their feet now inches apart. His champagne-scented breath drifted over her cheek, down her neck, tingling every nerve along the way.
“That’s what the label ordered,” she whispered, and gripped the branch behind her waist for stability. “Leah only gave me a copy of the song tonight, so I’ll have to listen to it first before I can confirm exactly what we’ll get up to.”
She was trying to match him, seductive purr for seductive purr. Clearly, he had more determination to win this sparring match. Her flirtatious mojo deserted her. She didn’t appreciate the unfamiliar position of being the one acting like a deer in headlights at temptation. He was drunk, for heaven’s sake.
He shuffled closer, placing his hand beside hers on the branch, his knee brushing her inner thighs. Heat burst to life in her core with embarrassing potency. Men weren’t supposed to have this effect on her. She wasn’t the swoony type. It was meant to be the other way around, with men falling to their knees for her affection. It used to be, anyway.
“So, we could end up like this?” He leaned in, his mouth hovering a breath away.
All she could do was nod. Her nipples throbbed. The once forgotten tingle of arousal between her thighs made her want to rub her legs together to alleviate the ache.
“Maybe,” she muttered, or at least tried to. In reality, it was a squeak.
The interest in his eyes held her immobile. It seemed like an eternity since she’d been wanted, or wanted to be wanted. Her body was alight with need, waiting, not willing to be denied.
“Would it make things complicated if I kissed you?” His knuckles brushed her right hip, his lips so close she could almost feel them.
“That depends.” Her voice was husky, her breathing labored. He would be a good lover. She’d had enough of her own to tell. His confidence spoke of his capabilities. There was no doubt in his eyes, or fumbling in his approach. He was in control of this seduction, no matter how drunk he was.
“On?”
She swallowed and moistened her lips again. “If things between us will be awkward afterward. We still need to be able to work together.”
He hit her with a devilish grin, one full of sexual promise. “Red, it’ll be more awkward if we don’t.”
She shouldn’t be contemplating kissing a heavily intoxicated man. She shouldn’t, yet the thought of her cobweb-riddled vagina made her open her mouth and spew forth these stupid comments. It was only a kiss. It wasn’t like she could sleep with him.
Her stomach clenched at the thought and reality began to seep in. She shook her head. This game she played wasn’t right. She was acting like the woman she used to be, not the person she’d become.
He tilted his pelvis into her, and the illusive hardness of his erection grazed her pubic bone. Sweet Jesus. She sucked in a breath, closing her eyes briefly at the desire fighting to overcome her hesitation. Pleasure or pain. How long could she fight the need to walk away? How long could she ignore the need for affection?
It’s only a kiss.
“I need to get you out of my system before we start,” he continued. “Because… I sure as shit won’t be able to dance like this.”
Her fingers itched to grasp his flesh, to wrap around the hardness of his shaft and stroke until he moaned. Damn it. She was meant to be the sober, level-headed one, yet her emotions were malleable under his desire. He had her strung tight, ready to snap.
She needed to stall. To gain some space. Her damn feet wouldn’t move. All she could think about was inching closer, resting her hand on the defined muscles of his chest, and gripping his gym-junkie sized bicep. Her infatuation was going to get her in trouble. At the very least, it would threaten the contract she had to work with him over the coming weeks. It was imperative she pull her head out of the lust-filled clouds and set the course straight. “What if one night doesn’t sate your need?”
She was such a fucking moron.
He brushed his lips against hers, the lingering touch scorching her mouth. “I already know it won’t. But let’s pretend for now, and work out the rest later.”
Sean closed his eyes, sinking into the kiss. He cupped the side of her face in his palm and rested the champagne flute in his other hand against her waist. The image of her pixie face beamed back at him from his mind, her large brown eyes gleaming in the moonlight. The more their tongues
tangled, the more the vision faded, until the dark irises turned to a lighter shade of hazel, and her strawberry-blonde hair changed to midnight black.
Fuck.
He broke the kiss, shaking the image of Sidney from his thoughts and the pain from his chest. He’d gone half an hour without thinking of his best friend’s fiancée. A fun, flirty thirty minutes which Red was responsible for. He didn’t want to drift back to his obsession. He wanted the pixie in his arms. Her wild hair tangled between his fingers, her gentle lips on his body, her throaty moans echoing off his penthouse walls. She was a beautiful distraction. One he planned on consuming himself with until the desire for Sidney wore off.
Red blinked up at him, the darkness returning to her cheeks. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have encouraged that.”
He answered by weaving his free hand through the hair at her nape and tugging, baring her throat, making her gasp. For a moment, he wondered if he’d scared her, then the flash of fire in her eyes made him burn. He kissed her again. This time harder, parting her lips with his tongue and tangling with her own.
Fuck his fascination with Sidney. Fuck the compulsion and the delusions. Fuck the lack of recognition he received for his contribution to Reckless Beat. He needed to get over that shit.
“I want you,” he murmured into her mouth. The alcohol in his veins taunted him to take her. Here. Up against the tree. To sink himself into her sweet little body any way, anyhow.
She whimpered, her delicate fingers clinging to his shoulder. Her kiss grew demanding, punishing. Such a tiny little thing forcing him to lean harder into her to take control. He was lost. His limbs pulsing, some more than others. His brain addled from intoxication, and his dick wanted to run a sprint when the rest of him knew it needed to be a marathon.
He wanted so badly to drown in the feel of her. To lose himself in pleasure.
“Sean,” she whispered, releasing her grip on his arm. “Wait.”
He ignored her, tugging harder on her hair, grazing his teeth against her lower lip.