Ballroom Blitz (9 page)

Jon was the most enthralling man she’d ever met, but he was difficult to read. There was almost a…“proper” aspect to his personality and mannerisms. Did that stem from him being Native American? Or had the record label’s PR agency put all that polish on Johnny Feather over the years? The only glimpse she’d seen of the wild man rock star had been on stage, when he was lost to everything but the music. Although, she had gotten a hint of that intensity last night, when he’d been focused solely on her.

“You’re staring at me,” he said with amusement.

“You were staring at me first. Besides, you are very easy on the eyes, Jon White Feather.”

He kept his arms folded over his chest and continued studying her.

“What? Do I have egg on my face or something?”

“No. Just thinking about how hot last night was. It’s taking every damn bit of my willpower not to bend you over the counter and fuck you until you fall apart in my arms again.”

There was that animalistic side.

“That thought will keep.” Jon inclined his head toward the sliding glass door. “Come on. I’ve got something to show you.”

Maggie looked at the tank top that barely skimmed her hips. “I’m not wearing pants.”

“Nobody around besides me to see you. If I had my way? You’d be wearing just that creamy skin.”

Oh man. He’d cranked the seduction meter on high today.

He opened the sliding glass door.

Maggie stepped onto a concrete patio and her gaze followed a stone pathway that ended at a large asymmetrical structure. Pine needles, leaves and broken pinecones were scattered across the walkway.

“The storm did some damage.” He moved in front of her and bent at the waist. “Climb on.”

“Seriously, Jon? A piggyback ride?”

“Yep. You wanted to ride me like a pony. This is kinda close.”

How was she supposed to think about anything besides sex with her crotch pressing against his spine, her chest rubbing over the firm muscles of his upper back and her arms draped around his neck?

Maggie released a little whoop and jumped on.

He raced forward. Upon reaching the door, he turned his head. “This is handy. I can spin you around and have my wicked way with you up against the wall.”

“Was that what you wanted to show me?”

“Nope.”

“Dang. Dash a girl’s hopes.”

Jon set her on her feet, and all of a sudden seemed hesitant to open the door.

She remembered how much he valued his privacy and suspected he regretted the spontaneous invite into his private domain. “I’d understand if you’ve changed your mind and don’t want me invading your sacred space.”

“I want you here.” He touched her face. “I once had a teacher who swore no space was truly sacred, except for sexual organs.”

“Well, we’ve already breached each other’s sacred spaces. Several times.”

Jon laughed and opened the door.

The clean lines and neutral colors utilized feng shui to create a sense of peace and order. A lounging area with deep-cushioned couches was away from the creative heart of the space—the sound-proofed recording area. A window in that room faced out; everything else was closed off. The entire back wall was lined with percussion instruments. Along the outside walls were guitars and cases that held string instruments, woodwinds and brass. She squinted at a table in the corner with an auto-harp and a mandolin. Drums didn’t have a place of honor, but were scattered everywhere in sizes and shapes she’d never seen.

“Jon. I’m blown away. What a perfect creative environment. Although I’d be tempted to goof around with all the…omigod, is that a xylophone?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Do you play it?”

“Sometimes. I used to have to move it to sleep, since I built the studio before the house.”

“Because your music matters more to you than anything,” she murmured, running her hand over the top of a kettle drum.

His deep voice tickled her ear. “I don’t want to say music is my life, but I guess it is because I cannot imagine my life without it.”

“No wonder you wanted to stop touring. You have everything you need right here to make music and be happy.”

She felt Jon tense behind her. Had she said something wrong? Before she could ask him, he sidestepped her and grabbed a mallet and pounded on the skins, not randomly, but in a rapid-fire pattern that sounded melodic. Who knew drums even had a melody?

Maggie faced him.

Immediately Jon stopped drumming. “What?”

“If it’s not too much bother will you play something for me today?”

“Maggie. I’d be honored to play for you.” His gaze moved over her as thoroughly as a caress. “Would you dance naked for me while I play?”

“No.” She bit her lip. “Well. Maybe. I’ve never done that before, so it might be fun.”

He picked up a maraca and rattled it. “Know what else might be fun? If I recorded you playing something in the background of my drum solo while you’re dancing naked.”

“No way. I don’t play an instrument, not a real one anyway. I don’t sing.”

“Not even karaoke?”

“Especially not karaoke.” She poked him in the chest. “But I’ll warn you, I rock at
Rock Band
.”

He lifted a brow. “Is that a challenge?”

“Absolutely. Seth, Stanis, Sara and I have a
Rock Band
play-off. I think he mentioned this Saturday night we were gonna shred it.” She cocked her head. “But I’m sure you wouldn’t be interested. Probably worried you’d get shown up by two gay guys, a nurse and a computer geek.”

“You do know that I’m
in
an actual rock band, right?”

“I’ve heard that doesn’t make a difference.”

Jon laughed. “Wanna bet?”

Chapter Nine

Maggie shouldn’t have bet against Jon. He ruled at
Rock Band
, destroying all of Seth’s previous high scores.

Jon’s victory demanded concessions from Maggie—including her spending Saturday night and all day Sunday with him.

She hadn’t minded losing at all.

They’d stayed up late Saturday night and stargazed. Afterward they’d rolled around naked in his living room and in his bedroom. After a leisurely breakfast, where they’d lost track of time discussing everything from philosophy to books to movies, they adjourned to his studio.

She dinked around with his computerized sound system while he 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.”