Scandalous Beat (The Tempest Rock Star series Book 6)

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Scandalous Beat (The Tempest Rock Star series Book 6) Page 8

by Michelle Mankin


  “¡A huevo!” Hell, yeah. Warmth inside my heart spread throughout my chest. It meant a lot to me for him to make that concession, to be away from Melinda for my sake. But then I remembered Miriam, her being here, her secret. I trusted mi hermano not to say anything to Bryan, but would she have that same level of faith in him? And did I really need to give her another reason to be guarded around me? “But…”

  “Let me take a one-word guess what that ‘but’ means. Jorge.”

  “No, man. That’s not it at all. He and I well…” I trailed off. “I’ve just got some stuff going on that I’m trying to work through.”

  “What kind of stuff?” I could hear the frown in his voice. “Are you in trouble?” The casualness to his tone disappeared. He sounded instantly alert. “You know I can be there in a couple hours. I told you that before you left. If you had only hung back a few days, I would have ridden shotgun out there with you.”

  The warmth in my chest spread throughout my entire body. My brother’s declaration melted more of the frost between us. It also unfroze my tongue. “I ran into Miriam.”

  “Come again? What’s she doing in Vegas?”

  “I’m not really at liberty to say. Not if I don’t want her more angry at me than she already is. But if you’d keep things totally on the QT even from Bluebelle I could really use some advice.”

  “You got it,” he cut in without me having to explain any further. “You know I’ve always got your back. So lay it on me. How’d you piss her off?”

  “Well,” I hesitated. “I kissed her.”

  * * *

  Miriam

  “You need to kick your leg higher on the last part.”

  “But I’m tired,” Trinity whined.

  “You’d be less tired if you added endurance training to your workouts.”

  “If you mean some running, I think you should know I despise it.”

  “Running’s not that bad.” I actually liked it. Needed it really. The rhythmic pace of my breathing. My shoes skimming the ground eating up pavement. The endorphin high to counteract life’s disappointments. Like the letdown of kissing your high school crush only to realize that it didn’t mean shit to him.

  “I guess I could do the treadmill.” She made a face. “Not a big fan of the outdoors. Too many bugs. Too much dust here in the desert.”

  “Fort Worth isn’t dusty?”

  “Nah. Just hot. The only time I ran outside back in Texas is when they had the semiannual sale on shoes at Nordstrom.”

  “Ah. I can relate to that. We have Nordstroms here in Nevada, too.”

  “Steve Madden stilettos.” She sighed.

  “Sam Edelman sandals.” I put my hands to my chest and rolled my eyes back in my head as if in the throes of ecstasy.

  She laughed. “You seem like you’re in a good mood.” She studied me closely. “Much better than you were the other night at the hotel with that Hispanic guy.”

  “Juaquin Acenado.” I filled in.

  “I didn’t catch his name.” She shrugged. “Didn’t care to. He had lots of cash and a huge cock.” She batted her eyelashes for effect, and I deflated like a balloon that had suddenly come loose at the knot, my endorphins leaking out and dispersing in the air. I so didn’t want any specifics on how she knew his dimensions.

  “Uh, um. I think I’ll leave the routine to you from here.” I patted Trinity on the shoulder and moved quickly away. “I’ll be in the dressing room if anyone needs me.”

  I chastised myself for being upset as I padded from the stage and down the hall in my bare feet. I knew King’s reputation. I had absolutely no reason to expect that he hadn’t been with Trinity, Barbie and all the others who had gone to his room. But you wish he hadn’t, my inner voice chided. And it hurts knowing he did. Because there was still a small part of me that wanted to believe in fairy tales. Little nothing day dreams. Like King waking up one day and realizing that I was the one that he wanted all along, the way I had always wanted him.

  “Hey, why so glum?” Mike stood as I entered the dressing room. He was barefoot like me, but already had on the jeans he usually wore on stage. He shooed off the wardrobe attendant, a temporary replacement. Miss Sharon was on vacation in Hawaii. Nance paid her well, and we each supplemented her salary by giving her a percentage of our nightly tips. A wizard at applying pasties, sewing tassels and gluing on false eyelashes, she earned every penny. “Who is it? Frank? Jazz? Or the self-impressed Latino?”

  “Me.” I told him. “It’s me. Always wanting what I can’t have.” I shrugged one shoulder. “I’m sure a psychologist would have a field day with me. How I keep throwing myself at Juaquin. How I’m repeating the pattern I saw with my mother and father. How I set myself up to be rejected. How that’s all leftover baggage from my childhood. Right?” I had some self-awareness. I wasn’t totally clueless. “Why can’t I move on? What’s wrong with me? I mean I have Frank. He’s good looking. He’s understanding. He’s great, really.”

  “Sure, MJ. But knowing doesn’t make the disappointment go away. Come here.” Mike held open his arms, and I readily stepped into them.

  “Why do I feel like my boyfriend’s the consolation prize?”

  “If cold logic ruled our hearts we’d all be married to the guy with the biggest savings account,” he quipped, frowning at me when I failed to even crack a smile. “You’ll figure things out soon.” He tapped my lips. “Your smile’s been turned upside down since Acenado came to town. I want to see you happy again.”

  Chapter Nine

  King

  From the back of the club instead of my previous vantage in the middle, I watched the show. I’d bought out the entire club again. Only this time I’d left Jorge at the hotel.

  I was alone, the solitary observer of each routine.

  I had no interest in any of them save the last.

  Finally, Miriam appeared. I scooted forward to the edge of my seat. Mi reina.

  Queen had no bath basin tonight, just a stage full of flickering candles and another barely-there dress. So beautiful. So sexy. So above all the others. She stole my breath and captured my gaze. She might have taken much more of me though I wasn’t ready to admit it quite yet.

  The music started, a heavy on the percussion instrumental piece that made me grin from my shadowed position in the dimly lit room.

  She started as she had begun the other night, her back toward her singular audience. The flicker of lights flirted with the curves and the contours of her sexy hourglass shape. Her bared arms held over her head. The tendrils of her hair. The graceful hollow of her neck. The valley between her luscious breasts. The dip in her waist. The subtle shadow between her thighs. The slender length of her legs. I swallowed as she moved enticingly. My cock stiffened, a drop of lubricant on the head that had no chance to extinguish the fire as I watched her reveal herself. Inch by inch. Curve by curve. Sweet mother of all that is holy, she was glorious, and I wanted her more than I had ever wanted anyone.

  My fingers tightened around the bottle of Maestro Dobel on my table, I lifted it, brought it to my mouth and threw back another liberal dose. More fuel to flame the inferno she had already stoked. Undressing. Unveiling herself piece by maddening piece. Undoing me. Making me crazy with lust and confirming my commitment to see her and straighten things out between us before this night was over.

  * * *

  Miriam

  I knew Juaquin was the only one out there. I felt his gaze on me. His lust. As I danced alone on the stage, I felt the connection between my longing and his desire in a way that I had never experienced.

  Tonight, it wasn’t about mechanics and memorized moves. Normally indifferent to the thoughts and needs of my audience, tonight I danced specifically for him.

  I had come to a decision even before Mike informed me King had bought out the club again. Why he had come here again, I wasn’t exactly sure, but he wasn’t going to catch me off guard. This all might be a game to him. There might have been something more to it at one tim
e if he ever would have acknowledged it. But, whatever. Whichever way things might have gone between us, if they went forward from here it would be on my terms.

  Back in my dressing room, I had my robe tightly belted around me. I waited for him to show. I had sent Trinity to his table with a message. The other girls dressed quickly, a flurry of movements heightening my nervous anticipation. After they had all gone I began to pace the length of the small space…until finally he appeared.

  “Miriam,” he called my name from the doorway, his amber gaze sweeping over me. “You summoned?” He arched a brow.

  “Yeah.” I arched a brow in return. “Doesn’t feel all that great when you’re on the receiving end, does it?” I didn’t wait for an answer to my rhetorical question. “Why are you here, Juaquin? I have a life and I seem to remember that I kicked you out of it.”

  He opened his mouth to speak, but I cut in. I wasn’t nearly finished letting him have it. “Maybe the problem is that you don’t know yourself. I mean when I’m offering you a piece of me, you’re not interested. But when I say no you stalk and you pursue. Maybe I’m just a novelty to you. Something different than all those other women you pay.” I waved a hand to beckon him in while internally hissing at my heart to slow down its frantic beating. So he looked sexy as sin in a black Cannibal Corpse tee that clung to his muscular torso as if tattooed on. So his worn jeans called attention to his equally sculpted thighs and ass. So he rolled into the room with his arrogant-rock-star-I bought-out-the-club-and-I-own-you sway.

  Uh-uh, I told myself drawing myself up to my full height. No owning. Not tonight. Not anymore.

  “You look beautiful, Reina,” he said softly his gaze glittering like polished gold as it reflected the dressing mirror lights.

  “I know,” I acknowledged haughtily without smiling though it pleased me greatly to receive the compliment. “Is that the only reason you’re here?”

  “I wanted to talk to you.” Expression resolute, he crossed his arms over his chest and the sleeves of his t-shirt stretched to contain the bulge of his biceps.

  “Huh.” I lost my train of thought imagining those muscles flexing under much different circumstances, like maybe if I were lying on a bed underneath his hard body. I reined in that thought swallowing to moisten my dry throat. “About what?”

  “About last night. About that kiss.” His voice rumbled lower. His gaze dipped to my mouth, and when it lifted a moment later his eyes were much, much darker. I shivered and attempted to rub away the shimmery sensations that he invoked without even touching me. “And what happened after that.” He watched me carefully. “I realize that I came on too strong. What I said, what I meant to say was…” He trailed off looking at a loss as he raked his hand through black hair that reflected the lights as brilliantly as his gold eyes.

  “You wanted to kiss me.” There was enough of a question in my statement that he answered it.

  “Hell, yes, I did. What man wouldn’t?” He swept a heated glance over me. My body reacted as if he had plucked certain areas and teased others, but I ignored that…mostly.

  “Ok. Fine. I wanted to kiss you, too. So we both got what we wanted for a change.” I lifted my chin. “But why then and not the other times? Like in New Orleans, for instance.”

  “Ah, yes. You had me at the edge that night with the things you said, the way you looked.” He took a step closer, and I brought a hand to my throat to cover the way my pulse raced at his proximity to me.

  “But you said no.” I reminded him. No in a hurtful way. “You said it would be a mistake. That I’d had too much to drink.”

  “You had. You deserved better than a drunken backstage tryst.”

  “You gave me all those excuses, too. Like I only wanted you because of who you were and the way you look now.” I stared at him hard. “You should know those things don’t matter to me.” That he would think they did had hurt most of all.

  I saw the apology in his eyes, but if he had answers to my charges, he left them unspoken.

  “I know my own mind Juaquin. You don’t get to decide for me. No one does…” I trailed off. He had moved closer. He was touching me, his hand softly tracing a lock of my hair, his warm fingertips skimming the sensitive skin of my ear.

  “I know you do.” He lifted his gaze. “I want you to have everything you desire, Miriam.”

  Holy hotness. My heart raced from his caress, from the way he rumbled those words and from imagining what everything with him might involve.

  “Really?” I managed. “If that’s true why did you always push me away?”

  “I was trying to keep you safe.”

  “From what, Juaquin?” I expelled a frustrated breath. “Your temper? Your reputation? Some potentially really hot sex?”

  His eyes widened. But I kept on keeping it real. “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m not a child anymore.” I narrowed my eyes. “So I’ll ask you again. Why were you at The Palms the other night? And why are you here at my club again now?”

  “I want to start over.” He stared into my eyes. A hidden promise lay within them that was as hypnotic as his words. “If you’ll allow it. If you’ll accept my apology for the way things went down with us in the past. If we can agree to be honest about what this is, and what it isn’t.”

  “My emotions are not a game.”

  “No they’re not. I’m sorry if I made you feel that they were.”

  “I’m not some sweet innocent whose feelings can be easily manipulated.” It scared me how much I wanted to accept his apology and fall right back to the previous patterns that had been so dysfunctional. “I’m tough, and I’m jaded. I’ve mostly learned life’s lessons the hard way, some of them served up by you. I made a decision tonight. I decided to dethrone you, King. As a boy you ruled my heart. As a woman, I’m taking it back.”

  “Miriam, you gotta know I had feelings for you, too.”

  “Had is the operative word. I know. I get it. The past is gone. We’re different people now. But I will admit to this lingering curiosity. And now you’re here pushing all my buttons again. So if you wanna push? Fine. Push hard. I’ll push back harder. You wanna play some? C’mon let’s play. Let’s get down and nasty. You wanna test me? You can try. But I’m not some star struck groupie. I think I could teach you a thing or two about being with a real woman who is your equal.”

  Chapter Ten

  King

  “Te crees muy muy.” You think you’re such a badass, Miriam. But you have no idea what you’re getting into offering to cross that line with me.” I would show her. I stomped to the door, slammed it closed with my foot and stalked toward her like I had done the other night at the Palms. Only this time she held her ground before I had her against the wall where she couldn’t retreat.

  “I am a badass,” she returned with her shoulders back and her chin high.

  “You’re sexy as hell with all that talk about pushing, playing and getting nasty.” I glared down at her. “But that’s all it is. A bunch of talk. Dangerous talk.”

  “And I think you’re deflecting because you’re afraid to put my words to the test with some action.” She was worked up, her hands on her hips and her chest rising and falling with each breath. “Maybe you’re not up for the challenge of someone like me. Maybe you’re afraid. Maybe you’ve been afraid all along.”

  Ok now she was pulling stuff out of her ass. “If that’s what you want to believe.” My temper flared. My desire for her flared even hotter. I didn’t want to consider that there might be a kernel of truth to what she said. I only knew that I wasn’t backing down. I returned fire even though I had come here looking to make amends, to be softer and gentler with her, to show her my good side as Sager had suggested. “If it’s a test you want, then that’s what you’ll get.” The word and what it implied irritated me. “But make no mistake who’ll be doing the teaching. Desnúdate. Get naked.”

  I wanted her so badly, to connect with the woman whose beauty and spirit had always called to me. And now for h
er to offer to give me access, well, my voice was definitely gruff.

  “You first.” She countered, and I grinned. Everything about her spicy brand of sass pleased me.

  “Your wish and my desire are the same, however…” I reached for her, stroking my fingers across her cheek. Her eyes locked with mine. The sparkle within the depths of hers became something less playful. Was it in response to the more serious emotions in my own? Respect? Desire? Raw need?

  “Latino men don’t take orders from their woman in the bedroom.” Gaze still on hers, I brought my hand lower, my fingers skimming down the column of her slender neck, her skin softer than I had imagined. My throat already dry with desire became more parched when I heard her swift, sweet broken intake of breath. Grazing the valley between her breasts, I reached her waist and the sash that belted her robe.

  “So are you certain you want to play this game with me, mi reina?” With my eyes searching hers, I tugged on the belt with both hands, discovering that I was holding my breath as I waited for her answer.

  “Yes, King. I’m sure.” She covered my hands with her own sending a bolt of desire straight to my cock. “Let me help. I knotted it, and you’re going too slow.”

  “Alright, mamasota. Have at it.” She took over, her pretty head bowing, her dark hair veiling her face, her eager fingers focusing on the task. I coasted my hands upward while she worked, gliding them over her satiny skin. From the turn of her delicate wrists to the sharp angle of her slender elbows, I pulled back the sleeves of her robe as I went.

  “I can’t get it.” She shivered and cursed under her breath. “The knot’s too tight.” She lifted her head, glancing up at me through her lashes, her grey-green eyes smoky, her lips dewy and parted. Definitely turned on, and I had barely touched her.

 

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