Ballroom Blitz

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Ballroom Blitz Page 9

by Lorelei James


  laid down drum tracks for a mysterious project. Jon was tightlipped when it came to his career—maybe because he feared it was stalled? She didn’t sense restlessness in him, so maybe he was content living in one place for more than a night or two. The more they hung out, the more Maggie understood how important it was to him that she saw him as a regular guy, not just Johnny Feather, rocker.

  Rather than take Jon’s car, Maggie bummed a ride to work from her brother on Monday morning. It seemed odd that she and Billy saw less of each other since she’d relocated to Spearfish from Rapid City. Granted, he had a lot on his mind with a major project he was designing, and a baby on the way, so when he asked about her recent job interviews, she didn’t mention the upcoming dance competition. Or Jon.

  Maggie raced around town Monday afternoon after she retrieved her car and barely made it to the community center on time for the dance class. Jon was a no show and she checked her disappointment. She’d hoped he would finish out the last week for his niece’s benefit, but his absence hadn’t bothered Raven. She and her replacement partner, a cute charmer named Thomas Fast Wolf, were enthralled with each other. Enthralled to the point she’d heard Seth quietly threaten to spray the teens down with the fire hose if they didn’t quit grinding on each other.

  The day off from rehearsing had turned Seth into a taskmaster. After dance class ended, they performed each competitive rhythm dance fully—the entire thing, not just the focused snippets—three times. Maggie’s muscles screamed. The insides of her thighs burned. Her hips were sore.

  Maybe that ache wasn’t only from dance. Spending the weekend in bed with Jon had been quite the workout—the man defined insatiable. It’d been an embarrassingly long stretch since Maggie last had a lover, but none of the men she’d been with had that much stamina or sexual creativity. She’d never look at drum tie-down straps the same way again.

  The door to the gym banged open. She whirled around and saw Jon. Huh. Usually he was more stealthy than that and she hadn’t been sure he’d show up.

  His focus remained on her as he strolled across the wooden floor. The tickle in her belly morphed into a full-body tingle when he pulled her into his arms and kissed her.

  And kept kissing her. A toe-curling, panty-dampening kiss.

  Seth cleared his throat behind them.

  Maggie broke the lip lock, but couldn’t look away from his heated blue eyes.

  Jon grinned. “Hi.”

  “I like the way you say hi, rock star.”

  “Thought you might.” Jon looked at Seth. “Heya, teach. Is your ass still smarting from me handing it to you this weekend?”

  Seth grinned. “I could totally take that the wrong way.”

  He laughed. “You heading back to Rapid City so I can steal Maggie away now?”

  “Yes. I won’t miss making that drive after this class ends.” Seth mopped his face and tossed the towel into his duffel bag. “You’ll lock up?” he asked Maggie.

  “Sure.”

  “See you tomorrow night, sugar.” He smirked at Jon. “Ta to you too, sugar.”

  Maggie jammed all her belongings into her bag. “I thought maybe you’d come to class tonight.”

  “I intended to. But this riff wouldn’t leave me alone after I dropped you off last night, so I worked on it and didn’t go to bed until the sun came up.”

  “Riff? Isn’t that guitar?”

  “I play guitar. Having a melody helps me find the right beat.”

  “Seth will freak out if you kick his ass on Guitar Hero too.”

  Jon gave her that cocky grin again. “He already challenged me and I accepted.”

  “What were you working on that kept you up all night?”

  “I laid down some tracks after I finally got them to sound right. By the time I got up, worked out, and caught up on business stuff, it was too late to come to class.”

  “Were the tracks for any project in particular?”

  He shrugged and snagged her bag, draping the strap over his shoulder. “Nothin’ I can talk about.”

  “Or don’t wanna talk about. Still, it’s gotta be a relief to work without pressure. Not having to worry about wrapping up an idea too fast because you’ve gotta get back on the road or meet some record label deadline.”

  “If only it were that easy.”

  Sometimes the man was so damn cryptic.

  As Maggie locked the door she couldn’t help but yawn.

  “It appears my timing is still off.” Jon swept his thumb under her eye. “You’re exhausted, dancing queen.”

  She bristled. “I know I look like shit, but I worked eight hours today and danced for five—”

  Jon smothered her protest with his mouth, gifting her with a kiss that had her melting against him. He slid his lips down her chin and nibbled beneath her jawline, knowing it drove her crazy. “I only meant you’re too tired for what I had in mind tonight.”

  “Which was what? Crazy wild monkey sex hanging from a tree?”

  “No. A candlelight dinner and…”

  “And…what? Because you seem awful disappointed I’m dragging ass.”

  “I hadn’t gotten further than that, except hoping we’d get in wild-monkey-sex naked-time afterward, which ain’t exactly romantic to admit before I’ve wined and dined you. But right now I’m leaning toward just tucking you straight in bed.”

  Maggie tipped her head back to gaze at him. When she wore flat shoes Jon was eight inches taller than her five foot five. “You’re sending me to bed without supper? Was I bad or something?”

  “No. You’re good. Very, very good.” Jon teased her lips with deceptively gentle kisses that packed an erotic punch. “That’s the problem. I can’t stop thinking about you, Maggie.”

  “I know. I thought we’d figured this out over the weekend when we both said we wanted to see where this goes…and it seems like we’re going in opposite directions with opposite schedules.”

  “Well, then, we’ll have to learn to compromise.” Jon crowded her against the brick wall, bracing his hands beside her head. “You have to eat, right? Some days we can meet for lunch.”

  She twined her arms around his neck. “And some nights we’ll have a late supper.”

  “Some mornings, we’ll have breakfast in bed.” He nuzzled her temple. “Selfish of me to hope that’s most mornings?”

  “Then that’d make me selfish too, because I have the same wish.” Maggie had a moment of panic after the words tumbled out. She never put herself out there so fast. She always held part of herself back in a relationship, especially early on, not wanting to appear overeager or act desperate.

  He peered into her eyes. “What just happened? You tensed up.”

  “Nothing.”

  “Bull. Talk to me.”

  “I’ve never known another man like you. Not personally. I’ve watched hot guys like you from afar, in class, or on stage, or on TV, but I haven’t ever been the lucky one who gets to make time with the gorgeous man all the other women want.”

  “Make time?” he repeated. “You think that’s all I’m doing? I lured you into my bed because I was bored? I’m killing time with you until someone better comes along?”

  “Or until you get bored and leave town.”

  His mouth tightened.

  “I know it’s my insecurity, but I can’t pretend I’ve been in this position before.”

  “What position is that?”

  Maggie ran her fingers down his face. “Scared. Wanting those breakfasts in bed. Wanting to believe every sweet, raunchy word you say to me.”

  “Then take a leap of faith and believe it,” he said softly.

  “That’s the thing about leaps of faith; I’m not so good at taking them because I tend to fall flat on my face.”

  “Then let’s take it together, because I’ve never been in this position either.”

  She found that hard to believe. “Really?”

  “Yes. I haven’t stuck around here long enough to get to know a woman on any
level besides sexual. And it wouldn’t matter anyway because I’ve never been with a woman like you, Maggie. You’re classy. And smart. And generous with your time. You’re patient. And so damn sweet it makes me ache.” His eyes took on a glint of pure male animal. “Then I watch you dance and I almost can’t breathe. The way you move is the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen. It’s passion and poetry.”

  She couldn’t be more stunned. “Jon—”

  “Let me finish. Being with you is starting to strip the barriers I’ve had up for years. Because even though you do see me as the guy who’s a hit with the ladies, that’s not all you see. You treat me as Jon, not Johnny. You make me laugh. You make me think. It’s not all about sex with you. Yet, you make me so fucking hot that I want to slide up in you, right here, right now, just to see that dreamy look you get when I’m inside you.” He rested his forehead to hers. “So yeah, this is beyond my realm of experience. But I’m not scared by it because it feels so damn right.” He paused and murmured, “Am I wrong?”

  “No.” She kissed him then. Not with tenderness, but an openmouthed explosion of need, showing him his faith in her—in this, in what was building between them—wasn’t misplaced.

  By the time they broke apart, her panties were wet, her nipples hard, her head was buzzing and she seriously considered ripping his clothes off with her teeth.

  “Come home with me,” she panted against his throat. “And we’ll get started on that breakfast thing.”

  Tuesday night after Maggie’s dance rehearsal, Jon picked her up for a romantic moonlight stroll by the creek.

  Wednesday they indulged in a long lunch, picnic style, in Jon’s bed.

  Thursday Jon snuck into the gym for the last night of dance class. Staying in the shadows, he watched his niece move with more confidence, shyly flirting with the too-charming Fast Wolf boy, who should’ve been named Fast Hands. Lurking gave him a feeling of disconnection and he left without letting anyone know he’d even been there.

  His melancholy mood didn’t go to waste; he channeled it into his music. He’d been inspired to write more than usual in the past week. So when his agent called, Jon mentioned his recent increased output and that he’d already passed the audio files to Push, Radioactive Tar and Darkly Dreaming. But Marty also wanted to know if Johnny intended to enter into serious negotiations with any of the three bands.

  That was the crux of Jon’s problem; although the music-career fairy had knocked, he wasn’t sure which door to open—if any. When his Sapa bandmate Jeps had called a few hours later to discuss the future of the band, Jon hedged. He loved and respected his Sapa bandmates, yet, he’d experienced an unprecedented burst of creativity in the last month and he was damn proud of the work he’d finished.

  He wondered how much of it was due to breaking away from Sapa. Maybe when he wasn’t collaborating with other musicians he had a clearer vision of his own musical style. Maybe the possibility of working with the most respected producers in the business forced him to step up his game. Maybe being settled at home for an extended period of time allowed his creativity to flow more freely.

  Or maybe he could attribute it all to being around Maggie and truly being happy.

  Friday night he whisked her back to his place after her rehearsal with Seth. Filled with excess energy, Maggie jumped him, riding him to an orgasm so intense he had rug burns on his ass and he’d momentarily lost the ability to speak.

  Since the dance competition was a mere week away, Seth had scheduled an all-weekend rehearsal. Jon knew if he began a new project he’d obsess until he finished it, so he opted to drop by Jim’s house on Saturday instead of working. He riled up the kids, drank a beer and pretended he wasn’t counting down the hours until he saw Maggie.

  He loved surprising her so he’d rented a room at a secluded bed and breakfast and arranged the candlelight dinner he’d promised her. After returning to the room, Jon massaged her sore muscles and made love to her in the big Jacuzzi tub and the enormous four-poster bed. It was one of the best weekends of his life—the perfect mix of work and play, family, romance, passion, fun and relaxation.

  So it was bittersweet when Marty called him and insisted he get to L.A. for meetings on Monday. He knew the meetings wouldn’t be limited to California, and he resigned himself to being gone another week. But since all of this was preliminary, he couldn’t discuss the particulars with Maggie or anyone else.

  Normally Jon waited outside in the parking lot of the dance studio for Maggie to finish because Seth insisted on closed rehearsals. But he didn’t have a lot of time so Seth could overlook the interruption just once since Jon was leaving town.

  The entryway of the small studio was a dancer’s ready room, comprised of lockers, wall pegs, bins and benches. The largest wall was also a window; observation glass on one side and a mirror on the other.

  Even with the door to the studio closed, Jon could hear Seth and Maggie yelling at each other.

  Whoa. He’d never seen Maggie so angry.

  “I cannot do it like that, Seth. I’ve told you ten times. It won’t work. I haven’t done that technique in years and I’m not about to add it into the routine less than a week before competition!”

  Seth got right in her face. “That’s a load of crap, Maggie. You don’t want to do it just because it’s hard. You’d rather make the easy move and you know what? It’ll make you look lazy. And make me look lazy, because not only am I your partner, I’m your dance coach.”

  “Lazy?” Maggie repeated. She shoved Seth back a step. “Fuck off. I’ve busted my ass and I haven’t taken the easy way out on anything. You’re just afraid no one will take you seriously as a choreographer if you don’t put some stupid, worthless fancy-ass dance move in just to show you know how to do it.”

  “That was a bitchy thing to say.”

  “It’s the truth. And you’re being an asshole about it.”

  “Tough shit. You will do what I say. Period. End of discussion.” Seth stomped off, grabbed the remote and turned the music back on.

  Maggie didn’t budge.

  A door opened and Seth’s partner, Stanis, exited the office. But he didn’t offer his usual flirtatious smile.

  “They still snapping at each other?” he asked Jon.

  “Yeah. How long has it been going on?”

  “An hour. And before you ask why I didn’t put a stop to it, I’ll remind you of my ‘no interference’ policy.”

  Jon lifted a brow. “So you’re good with them verbally assaulting each other? Or do you step in only when it turns physical?”

  Stanis smoothed his fingers down his silk tie. “It won’t ever get to that point.”

  A loud crash sounded and Jon spun around to see Maggie sprawled on the floor with Seth yelling at her to quit being such a baby and get back up and do it again.

  Jon stormed into the studio, stepping between Maggie and Seth. When he glanced down and saw Maggie’s face wet with tears, it took every ounce of restraint not to knock Seth on his ass. Jon plucked her off the floor and set her on a bench.

  Seth shouted, “What do you think you’re doing? This is a closed rehearsal and you have no right to barge in here—”

  He was looming over Seth in two seconds. “I have every right when I see Maggie on the floor! What the fuck is wrong with you, Seth? I know you’re her coach, but I didn’t think you were a bully. It’s obvious she’s had enough if she’s crying.”

  That seemed to knock the fight right out of Seth.

  Stanis wrapped his arm around Seth’s shoulder. “Jon is right, sweetheart. Take a break. Come on.” He led Seth out of the studio and the office door closed.

  Jon forced deep breaths into his lungs before he faced Maggie.

  She’d stopped crying, but she still looked miserable.

  “You all right?”

  She shook her head and tears spilled down her cheeks.

  He scooped her onto his lap, running his hands down her spine as her body was racked with sobs. “Ssh. Baby. It’s
okay.”

  “I hate him,” she said with a hiccup.

  “No, you don’t. You’re both on edge and you’ve spent way too much time together.”

  “I want to quit.”

  Jon pressed his lips against her forehead. “No, you don’t.”

  A few minutes passed before she said, “But I could. The company in Billings I sent my resume to after I was laid off has an opening. They want to interview me this week.”

 

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