Sultry Groove (Reckless Beat #4) (6 page)

Her hands moved to the waistband of her yoga pants, and her heart climbed to her throat. This was the part of the day she loathed—when she could no longer ignore reality and had to be reminded why she would never be truly happy again. She pushed the material down her thighs and swallowed to moisten her dry mouth. When her fingers brushed mutilated flesh, she closed her eyes and shoved her pants to the floor.

Without opening her eyes, the image of her left leg was taunting her from her mind, making nausea creep up her throat. From the side of her hip to her knee, the skin was repulsive. Red, indented, with jagged lighter scars around the outside. She tried to ignore it the best she could. She’d even learned to suppress the constant pain by occupying herself with dance lessons or exercise. Music helped, too. It was when her mind was blank, usually at night when she was trying to sleep, that hatred and loss consumed her.

In the last eleven months, she’d learned to hide her secret and pretend nothing in her life had changed apart from her career. Nobody knew. Nobody around here anyway. Not even her family. Almost a year had passed, filled with too many doctor’s appointments, creams, rehab, and the need for tears she wouldn’t allow herself to cry. And still she couldn’t bring herself to show anyone the real person she hid underneath her clothes. Not her loved ones, not strangers, and definitely not an orgasm-inducing man like Sean Taiden.

“Remember that, Melody,” she muttered to herself. She needed to drum it into her head, with a set of Sean’s sticks if necessary. There was no room in her life for any more loss or humiliation. She wouldn’t survive it. The only problem was, she couldn’t go on the way she was living either. Pretending to be the old Melody may just be the lush middle ground.

Sean admired the
woman striding toward him in a pair of baggy cargo pants that hid the shape of her legs, and an oh-so-tight black camisole, giving him more than a glimpse of her firm rack. His drunken visions from the night before hadn’t been a hallucination. If anything, his memory did injustice to the beauty before him. She wasn’t just a pixie. She was a temptress and a feminine goddess all in one.

“Approve?”

He raised his gaze to her face, mentally shaking himself. “Pardon?”

She stopped a few feet away and flung her arms out at her sides. “The way you’re scrutinizing me makes me wonder if I’m suitably dressed.”

Suitably dressed for coffee, just not for what I have on my mind.

“You look great.” He softened his perusal and mentally acknowledged that he shouldn’t leer. He couldn’t help it. She was hot. “Are you ready to go?”

She patted her left, then her right pocket, and smiled. “Yep. All set.”

You sure? I’m happy to give you a secondary pat down.

The corner of her lips lifted in a knowing smirk, and she rolled her eyes. “You don’t believe in subtlety, do you?”

“I didn’t say a thing.”

“You didn’t have to.”

Her grin was so damn adorable, but he was still uncertain how to navigate her. He was used to the easy pickings of Mason’s scraps. Before Sidney, women flocked to his best friend. All Sean had to do was sit back and wait for the castaways. It was a shitty routine, never ceasing to make him feel worthless in the lead singer’s shadow. However, it was a routine nonetheless.

Sourcing women by himself only meant the females would stumble over their stiletto heels in a lust-filled frenzy once they did finally meet Mason. Either way, Sean was left feeling insignificant. There was less work involved if he seduced women alongside the world-famous front man. And apparently, he’d been content being lazy because he hadn’t bothered to figure out a better way to get laid.

“Let’s get out of here.” He yanked open the passenger-side door and convinced himself to cool down. Pushing too hard to try and keep Sidney off his mind would only endeavor to shove Red away. He needed to chill. To stop the flirting. Or at least soften the intensity.

He left the door ajar for her, and strode around the hood of the truck to climb into the driver’s seat. With a hard rev of the engine, he reversed out of her drive and onto the quiet street. The purr of the motor was the only thing filling the empty silence as he drove, clueless at what to say to prove he wasn’t the douchebag he’d made himself out to be. Awkwardness grew with every passing mile until Red’s stomach released a grumble loud enough to be heard over the low hum of the radio.

“Hungry?” He shot her a brief glance.

Her cheeks brightened into the prettiest shade of pink as she rubbed a hand over her belly. “It’s been a long time since lunch.”

“Then why don’t we ditch coffee and have an early dinner?” He relaxed his foot against the accelerator, and pulled over to the side of the road, giving her his full attention.

“Oh, no.” She shook her head. “Really, I’m good.” She cleared her throat, her hand pressing harder on her stomach, no doubt trying to suppress another grumble.

“Come on, Red.” He loved the way her lips twitched when he called her that, a slight mix between agitation and humor. “I know the perfect place, and dinner is a better way for me to make up for my stupidity last night.”

Her gaze narrowed on him for a moment, seconds really, but the connection hit him in the chest, making him itch to touch her. Before he could, she turned her focus out the window and began nibbling her bottom lip.

Come on. Come on. Come on.
He wanted to see her smile again, and determine if the fuzzy memory of how perfect her lips tasted would be as brilliant in the light of day. Going home to an empty penthouse wasn’t an option. Surrounded in silence and consumed with thoughts of Sidney would drive him to drink, and his liver needed a well-deserved break.

“OK.” She gave him a sideways glance. “As long as it’s something low-key. I’m not dressed for anything other than fast-food.”

He grinned, unable to stop himself. “You look pretty.”
Shit.
The lame compliment slid off his tongue. This time his lack of finesse had nothing to do with the distracting thoughts of another woman in his mind and everything to do with how fascinated he was with his travel companion.

Pretty
was far from where she was. Gorgeous, edible, erection-inducing, now
those
were worthy compliments. The way she moistened her lips in reply only cemented his attraction. They had a thing going here. He didn’t know what it was, or where it would lead, but he liked being with her. And if the poorly concealed interest in her deep-brown irises was anything to go by, Red was enjoying his company, too.

“I’m more of a snack eater myself,” he continued, hoping to distract his dick from the game it wanted to play. “There’s a place close to where I live that does the best bruschetta and dipping breads. Why don’t we go there, have a bite to eat, chat a little, then I can take you home whenever you’re ready?”

Red tilted toward him, scrutinizing him long enough to make his heart throb in anticipation. And OK, other parts of his body, too.

“I won’t be able to stay long.”
Fucking-A
. “I have a big week ahead trying to perfect the routine for your song.”

“No problem at all. All you have to do is tell me when you want to leave, and I’ll take you.” He broke eye contact and checked for oncoming cars before reentering the lane of traffic. “Trust me, Red, their food will leave you wanting more.” And by the time he drove her home, he hoped she would feel the same way about him, too.

***

Stanterio’s? He was
taking her to Stanterio’s? One of the most pretentious restaurants in Richmond, set on the banks of the James River at Rocketts Landing. What the heck happened to low-key?

“Sean, I’m not dressed to go to a place like this.” The faintest hint of apprehension marred her voice.

Fine dining wasn’t a new experience. She’d grown up with money, and at the height of her dancing career men had taken her to places like this all the time, not only in Richmond, but in cities all over the world while touring. She was familiar with mingling amongst the snobbiest of people. She also knew walking inside dressed in cargo pants and a skin-tight, revealing top would attract attention she no longer wanted.

“Trust me, you look gorgeous.”

His compliment didn’t lower her blood pressure in the slightest. The old Melody wouldn’t have cared. The woman she used to be could’ve walked into the fanciest restaurant in her thread-bare flannel pajamas and flirted her way into a seat.
That
Melody was hard to replicate.

She no longer had the confidence to use her looks to her advantage. Although her scars were hidden, they weren’t ever far from her mind. Like a guilty conscience, the reminders bubbled to the surface at the most inopportune times, clinging to her emotions.

In times of stress or fatigue, the ache in her leg was hard to ignore. The throbbing became incessant. Only, it didn’t compare to the heartache that ricocheted through her chest whenever she stared at the expanse of skin that had once been toned to perfection.

Her doctors didn’t understand. They thought she was
fortunate because the damage hadn’t affected her nerves or muscles. Lucky, even.

Ha
.

Every morning since the accident, she’d awoken to shattered dreams. Every day she stared at a leg that belonged on Freddy Krueger’s body. And each and every night, she fell asleep hoping to wake up from this nightmare.

“Sean…”

He turned to her, grabbed her hand, and then stole her breath and the ability to think by bringing her knuckles to his lips for a quick kiss. “Trust me. I know these guys. They’re not going to care how we’re dressed.”

She swallowed, blinked away the haze of this player’s A-game, and pulled her thoughts back on track. It was easy for him to wave away the faux pas; his presence brooked no argument. In a pair of dark grey shorts that reached his knees and a loose white tank top, he was sex on a stick in an entirely thug-for-hire kind of way. If it weren’t for the bright blue eyes that lessened the harshness of his buzz-cut and full jaw of stubble, she would’ve been running herself. The restaurant staff probably let him get away with the break in dress code because they valued their teeth.

He tugged her to his side and pushed his free hand against the front door, exposing her to the cool air inside. Her left thigh throbbed, making itself known like it always did when she was nervous or anxious.

“Sean, please.”

He continued forward, ignoring her as the delicate tune of a harp entered her ears, filtering through speakers in the roof. Chandeliers glowed in the dimming daylight, and the tempting scent of cooking meat made her stomach growl with earnest. The restaurant was peaceful, private, and completely out of her comfort zone.

“Mr. Taiden, nice to see you again.” A middle-aged man approached them in a tailored suit and a jovial smile on his clean-shaven face. “Are you interested in being seated for a meal, or would you prefer to stay at the bar?”

“Dinner tonight, thanks, Shane.”

The maître d’ inclined his head. “Of course. The restaurant isn’t busy as yet. If you’ll spare me a moment, I’ll check to see if your usual table is available. Would you like me to escort you and your guest to the bar for a drink while you wait?”

“You know I don’t put up with your upper-class bullshit.” Sean’s grin increased. “We can find our own way to the bar if necessary.”

One side of the maître d’s lips twitched in a contained smile, and he bowed his head in acknowledgement. “My apologies. One can never assume these things, especially when you have such a lovely lady at your side.” The stranger shot her a wink. “I’ll be back shortly.”

“See,” Sean taunted as the man strode from the entry into the main dining area. “Nobody cares about how we’re dressed.”

The staff may not care, but the other patrons would notice and stare at her like a bug on display, their eager gazes vying to pick her apart. Or that’s what it would feel like. One naïve walk from the hospital in a short skirt was all it took to wound her confidence permanently.

Simon, her ex, had been right. Her injuries changed her fate. She would no longer glow under gleaming lights. Strangers would always stare. People would always judge. And working in an industry where perfection was the be all and end all meant she was no longer worthy to continue in the career she loved.

Sean turned to her, his smile fading as he raised her hand, eyeing their joined fingers with a frown. “That’s a tight grip you’ve got there, Red.”

Hell
. She loosened her hold and tried to pull her hand away. “Sorry.” She was nervous, and daunted, and maybe the slightest bit angry. The first twelve years of her life had been spent overcoming stage fright and concern over what people thought of her. Once she conquered her fear, nothing could get in her way. Until the accident. That day transformed her back into a child, dealing with the sickening stomach butterflies and coalescing build of hypertension that awakened when she thought people were talking about her.

“That wasn’t an invitation to let go of my hand.” His gaze narrowed. “What’s up with you being in here? Too swanky? You’re right. We should’ve gone somewhere casual.”

“No.” She shook her head. “I’m not a fussy eater. It’s just…”
Crap
. How did she explain herself without exposing her flaws? “I don’t want to look out of place.” She indicated her clothes with a wave of her free hand. “I’ve been to places like this all my life. It’s the way I’m dressed that doesn’t sit comfortably. I guess the pride my parents taught me as a child is a little too engrained.”

Yes, her pride was definitely a problem. Her vanity, too.

Sean scrutinized her, unraveling her secrets. His fingers tangled between hers, an intimate sensation she shouldn’t be encouraging and didn’t have the power to stop. It felt nice to have a man’s touch against her skin. To have a little comfort and support.

“Well, why don’t we order and then go sit at the bar? Once our meals are ready, I’ll get Shane to box them up, and we can go to my place.”

Warning. Warning
.
Sexy man in a private setting is far more dangerous to your health.