Sultry Groove (Reckless Beat #4)

by Eden Summers

  “Oh my god!” She gaped. “You’re disgusting.”

  “And you couldn’t be more turned on.”

  Fucking know-it-all, asshole.

  “They smell like heaven,” he drawled, thick and heavy with seduction. “I bet the ones you’re wearing are even better.”

  “You are completely unhinged.”

  “And you’re practically vibrating with the need to fuck me.” He smirked, the corner of his lips lifting in an arrogant show of male perfection.

  “You expect me to sleep with you in the middle of my dance studio, in front of a wall of windows that anyone in the neighborhood could be looking through?”

  In a blink, he dropped his hold on her wrists and lifted her off her feet with a demanding arm around her waist. She was clutched to his chest as he strode toward the door and flicked off the light with a definitive click.

  “There,” he growled. “Nobody will know we’re here. And all I can see is the gleam in your eye telling me you want to wrap your legs around me and fuck me hard.”

  “I do not.” The pleasure within reach placed her on edge. She wanted to take it, to grab it in her fist and never let go. But how much of herself would be bared to his gaze? Her sight hadn’t adjusted to the darkness yet. All she could see were the shadows of his face from the dim street light a few yards away from the studio windows.

  She didn’t know if it was enough to expose her, and right now, she wasn’t sure if she cared. Her need for him was too hard to contain. Spending hours in and out of his embrace, his arms wrapped tight around her one minute, then his strong muscles lifting her the next, had made her mindless. She wanted a second taste of pleasure. And she wanted it now.

  “Then walk, Red. Unwrap your arms from around my neck and leave. I’ll close up, and when you see me tomorrow I promise not to flirt one damn bit. I won’t push you to talk to me, and I won’t rely on you to help distract me from my own issues. We’ll be friends. Not fuck buddies or whatever the hell this could’ve been. I’ll just be a nice guy learning your dance moves, and I’ll leave straight after rehearsal.”

  She lowered her hands from his neck, surprised that she’d moved them there in the first place. She didn’t want to leave, neither did she want to show her weakness and give in to him. He had her wound tight in both directions. She couldn’t walk away, couldn’t stay either. He was getting too close, wrapping the tendrils of his gorgeousness around her heart.

  “Fine.” Her voice wavered. She would leave. She would walk away and give herself a firm reality check once she got home. Opening her mouth about her issues had made him curious and that was her fault. It was time to fix her mess and place some kind of barrier between his insatiable desire and her willingness to succumb.

  She swallowed over the tightness in her throat and turned to leave. Time passed in the hard thumping of her heart. One, two, thr—. She was yanked back by her hand and slammed into his chest.

  “God, you’re stubborn,” he muttered, then smashed his mouth over hers.

  Euphoria took over her body, every limb, every blood vessel. Her knees grew weak as she kissed him back. Hard. Fast. Vicious strokes of tongue and teeth and lips. Never before had she needed a man. Never had her head and heart throbbed in unison for the demand of something. Someone.

  She climbed him, wrapping first one leg, then the other around his waist and pulling herself up with a tight grip around his neck. They moved. She didn’t know where, but in the next moment her back was thrust against a wall, and his greedy hands were on the waistband of her pants.

  “I need you,” he murmured in her mouth. “Every day for the last week, I’ve needed you.”

  She whimpered, cupping his cheeks, kissing him harder than she’d ever kissed. She was his distraction. Nothing more. And she supposed he was her distraction, too. Pretending to be perfect once again wasn’t hard when he stared at her with hunger in his eyes.

  He tried to yank down her pants, wrenching them from her ass downward.

  “Wait.” This wasn’t like his bedroom. Her studio was wide open. Leaving her in a vulnerable position. “Take me from behind.”

  That way, her pants only needed to be lowered beneath her ass cheeks. She placed her feet on the ground and turned, rubbing herself against the hardness of his crotch as she went. As if he knew the reason for the change, Sean grabbed the waistband of her pants and thong and lowered them slightly, leaving the elastic to rest at mid-thigh.

  The tightness around her scar was a constant reminder of the role she played. He thought he was fucking someone beautiful. Someone flawless and perfect. If only he knew.

  “Take your top off. I want to feel you.”

  That, she could do. She reached a hand behind her, unclasping her black sports bra, and yanked her tank over her head, letting them both fall to the floor. His hands were over her in an instant—on her waist, over her belly, cupping her breasts. He nibbled at her neck, making her skin shiver.

  She became lost in the gyration of her hips, in the rough touch of his palm sliding over her skin. One hand left her body, and the subsequent grind as he lowered his zipper had her clenching her pussy in anticipation. A crinkle of a wrapper flittered into her wavering consciousness, then a tear, followed by a quick burst of air as a part of the wrapper sailed through her periphery.

  He’d come prepared for sex.

  That may have offended other women. Not her. Knowing Sean wanted her enough to plan ahead was complimentary in her mind. He continued to place kisses along her neck and shoulder as the hard jerks of his fist rubbed against her ass.

  “Bend over.”

  Non-compliance wasn’t an option. She leaned forward, placing her hands on the wooden bench seat. He gave no warning, merely rubbed the head of his shaft along her slit to her opening, before slamming home. She moaned through the mix of bliss and the sharp assault of being full to the point of pleasured pain.

  “God,” he grated. “You’re even better than I remember.”

  She smiled into the darkness, rocking her hips against him, moving to his rhythm and ignoring the pull of elastic against her mutilated flesh.

  He ran a hand along her spine, from her tailbone to her neck. “Such a stubborn little pixie.”

  “Such a pushy thug of a man.”

  He chuckled, reaching his hand around her throat and pulling her up slowly. He leaned into her back, hovering over her as his teeth scoured the tingling flesh where her shoulder and neck met. Every part of her awakened with sensation. Her body, her soul, and most importantly, her mind. Sean gave her back a piece of the person she’d once been. While he slid into her, working her closer to release, clutching her neck in a vise like grip, she became herself again. No judgments or scars. Her bitterness vanished, her vanity, too. She was beautiful again. He made her feel beautiful again.

  With the hunger of too many nights spent alone, she worked her body against his, grinding her ass, unable to hold in a cry with each of his thrusts. His hand never stopped learning her body. He kept her in place with his grip on her neck, but the other hand cherished her, roaming the sides of her breast, over the smoothness of her belly, and retreating to run leisurely down her spine.

  With the hours of stimulation already playing havoc on her control, she forced herself to concentrate. His roving palm slid over her abdomen, and lower to her clit, and she stretched onto her tippy toes to fight the building tightness in her sex.

  “You’re going to make me come.”

  “Good,” he growled. “Maybe I can get you there twice.”

  She shook her head. No. She didn’t want to be alone again. As stupid as it sounded, she wanted to share this moment with him. All her life she’d been an extrovert, gaining energy from interaction with others. Turning into an introvert because of the accident was slowly killing her. She needed the connection, to feel him hitting the height of pleasure at the same time as her.

  Melody bent lower, resting her head on the wooden bench. With a wicked grin on her lips, she ran a han
d between her legs, brushing her grip across the smoothness of his balls.

  “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 mi
nutes 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.