Reckless Beat Box Set #2

by Eden Summers

  “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.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  “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 be
en 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.

  “Nice pictures.” The living room wall resembled his entry hallway. Images on display like a time capsule. Red as a child. Others when she was older. Some with what looked like family and more with friends or maybe dancing groups.

  “Ignore those. I’ve been meaning to take them down.” Her surly tone and lack of snickering made him glance over his shoulder. “Do you want a shower?”

  He studied her for a moment, noticing the way her gaze never held his for long. She was nervous. Out of her comfort zone. “Do you want company?”

  He didn’t mean to push for something that would exacerbate her body issues…well, OK, he couldn’t help pushing. Just a little. One day soon, she’d have to trust him. He didn’t care what she looked like under her clothes. Her beauty was already ingrained in his mind. Nothing could wash that away.

  “I have two bathrooms, Sean.” She turned on her heel and padded down the hall. “I’ll get you a towel.”

  He watched, unmoving from his position in front of the picture frames as she retrieved a towel from the hallway closet and then planted her feet to hold it out for him. She didn’t bridge the distance. She wanted him away from her past. Or away from her life in general.

  “Thanks,” he grated and marched toward her. As far as looks went, her current glower could deflate the most determined hard on.

  “The bathroom is on your left. I won’t be long.” She strode away, her head held high and one gigantic pole stuck up her ass.

  He didn’t get it. She was fucking brilliant. Her dancing skills were unlike anything he’d ever seen. She was strong minded, capable, and independent. Then again, maybe it didn’t have
anything to do with dance, and everything to do with him. He couldn’t work it out. There had to be something else. Something more than a minor accident that hadn’t even affected her ability to perform.

  Problem was, he couldn’t broach the subject because he wasn’t meant to know about it in the first place.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Melody turned off the shower and went in search of her towel in the darkness. Having the lights off soothed her, calming her heartache. Sean was getting too close, making her fall too hard. She’d grown attached to the happiness she felt around him and began to lose sight of the reality of her situation.

  She wished she could storm up to him and get the painful revealing of her scars over and done with, but it wasn’t as simple as ripping off a Band-Aid. His reaction would change everything. No matter how hard she tried, it would be impossible not to scrutinize every word he said or each glance he made her way from that point onward.

  Sean was a gorgeous, accomplished man who deserved a gorgeous, accomplished woman. And despite her wanting to be that woman, she didn’t have the ability anymore. The thrill of the charade was wearing off and the strength to ignore the constant ache in her thigh was becoming harder to maintain. Over the last year, her pain threshold had increased. There was no way it couldn’t when the severed nerves in her leg were on an endless mission to reattach themselves to something that wasn’t there.

  Sean helped distract her, keeping her mind occupied and her heart in a continuous flutter. But now he pushed boundaries and wanted to spend time in the house with too many hurtful memories that made the awareness of her leg become more potent.

  She toweled herself off, dressed in a silk camisole and long pajama pants, and left the bathroom without meeting her reflection in the mirror. Her bedroom was quiet, and the water from Sean’s shower was no longer running. The thought of greeting him again sent her pulse rocketing. She hadn’t missed the admiration in his eyes when he focused on the pictures on her wall. They were all lies. All pictures from the past of another woman. One who’d died the day of the accident.