Hushed Page 5

  "Wanna dance?" He burped.

  Just kill me now. Yeah, I wanted to dance. With Robbie or Jake. Or Seth. Mostly Seth. Not with this burping drunk next to me. I would have been surprised if he could even stay on his feet.

  The thing is, you have to trust your dance partner when you swing. 'Cause it's not one of the dances when you just move in the space next to each other, no touching required. And there's danger involved.

  Flips, dips, aerials, and spins were risky in the wrong hands. I once had a guy give me a concussion when he dropped me in the middle of a low spin. Since then, I'd been more cautious and discerning in my choice of dance partners. Because sure as anything, some guy who's never danced before in his life will ask you out on the floor, and before you know it, he's showing off for his buddies. Especially if a few beers have given him confidence. And you're literally banging your head against the floor.

  I held back a tart reply and slid the beer in front of the guy, even though it was the last thing he needed. "No thanks. I believe this belongs to you."

  He ignored it, scooted his chair closer to me, and fixed his gaze on my breasts, talking to them like they might answer him. "Next song, then. I'm a good dancer. Real good. I know all the moves."

  Ick. I wasn't doing any moves with him.

  "No thanks." I got up. But not quickly enough.

  He grabbed my wrist. "Where you going in such a hurry?"

  I glanced around for a bouncer. Bourbon Beach was usually pretty good about having plenty around to break up trouble. Do you think I could find one when I needed one?

  Just as I glared back at the douche holding my wrist, I felt a warm hand on my shoulder. An arm slid around my waist from behind and pulled me against a hard chest. I caught a whiff of cologne I recognized.

  "Thanks for keeping my girl company. I'll take it from here." Seth's tone was just the right blend of threat and letting the guy save face as he removed my wrist from the douche's grip.

  "Come on, baby. Let's dance." He pulled me toward the dance floor.

  I held my breath as we walked away, hoping the drunk didn't come after us and take a swing at Seth. A sucker punch to the kidneys from behind was not what we needed.

  Seth seemed unconcerned. It wasn't until I saw the other guy who'd come with him step between us and the drunk that I understood why. The guy looked like he was itching for a fight and could take just about anyone.

  "Don't worry about Paul," Seth said in my ear with amusement in his voice. "He can take care of himself. He'd like nothing better than for that shithead to come after me or him."

  The drunk wasn't stupid. He left us alone.

  I leaned into Seth, cupping my hand to speak directly into his ear over the blasting music. "That was smooth. You're good at this 'rescuing a damsel in distress' business."

  When he grinned down at me, all my irritation at him vanished and I felt a little weak in the knees.

  "Paul and I have had a lot of practice. Why do you think the girls keep us around?" He nodded toward a couple of Double Deltsies who were headed out onto the floor with a pair of obvious frat guys.

  "So this is your usual—protecting girls at bars from drunk douchebags? Is that some kind of weird superpower?" I looked him directly in the eye. That usually pierced the truth out of people.

  His grin deepened. "No. That's Paul's duty tonight. He and the girls begged me to come along. The girls still think I work for them and expect me to play personal bouncer, like before. Force of habit." He shrugged. "What could I do? They're like sisters to me. I couldn't let them down."

  We reached the edge of the dance floor. He hesitated. "I was serious about asking you to dance—do you want to?"

  "I thought you didn't like country music?"

  "I don't."

  His frank admission made me respect him more. "I assumed you didn't swing dance, either?"

  He raised one eyebrow. "You've made a lot of faulty assumptions about me."

  "You like dancing?" I was confused now. He was the most confusing, amazing guy I'd ever met.

  "With the right partner."

  My heart fluttered like I was sure it was supposed to. "Me too." I paused a beat. Two could play the flirtation game. "With the right partner."

  He led me to the center of the floor. When he took my hands in his as the music started, I felt another unexpected zing of attraction.

  "I'm better at East Coast swing." His eyes sparkled in the lights on the dance floor.

  He looked pretty good to me. And for the moment, I didn't want him to let go. I liked the feeling of my hand, small and protected, in his.

  In country swing, there are some standard steps that you can do infinite variations on. There's only one rule—the guy leads. If he's good at it, you both look good on the floor. If the guy can't lead, or you fight him, you've got a problem.

  Having seen Seth's moves, I was confident he knew how to lead. I was excited to follow. He started off with the pretzel, which is a basic country swing move. Though not basic in execution. There's a lot to the hand movements and twirls involved. Get off and you're sunk. All pretzelled up in completely the wrong way.

  This is where you appreciate the expertise of the guy. Basically, you hold hands and sort of eggbeater around. There's a point in the move where you end up in his arms. If the guy's into you, it's the perfect opportunity for him to gaze longingly into your eyes.

  Yeah, that sounds corny. But believe me, if you're dancing with a guy you like, it's anything but. In real time, the move goes by in seconds. But I was hyperaware of Seth, like we were the only two people in the room. My heart beat wildly, pounding in my ears above the beat of the music as he pulled me next to him, paused, and stared into my eyes.

  My heart skipped a beat. Looking into his eyes was like looking into the future. There was something deep and magnetic about him. In an instant, it was over, and we were twirling around each other, hanging on to each other. His hands were warm and strong in the small of my back. At my waist. Holding mine again. A tantalizing touch each time. A flirtation and a tease.

  I had never experienced a dance partner like Seth. Not someone who made me breathless and whom I didn't want to let go of. Not someone who danced so easily he had time to flirt and make me laugh.

  I loved to dance. Dancing was the ultimate fun. But it had never been the ultimate seduction before. Much as I fought it, I felt myself falling for all of Seth's moves. He didn't even have to speak. He simply had to twirl me and hold me in his arms.

  He pointed toward the ceiling, silently signaling a lift. I met his eyes and saw the challenge there. I nodded, like, Bring it on.

  In time to the music, I did the prelude to the jump, coiled, and sprang as he circled my waist with his large, steady hands and propelled me above his head as if I weighed less than a feather. As I was twirling above his head, the crowd around us parted, giving us room to perform.

  He dropped me from my perch. When you drop a girl in swing dancing, you don't drop them straight down with a plunk. You bring them into your chest and perch them against your hips. If you're the girl, you stare into his eyes like you want to take him to bed right then and there. Like you love him above all reason. Because you have to sell the dance. Because, like my dance teacher used to say, dancing is a mating ritual, even if you're only performing it.

  He pulled me down and swung me out. I jumped and wrapped my legs around him, leaning back, letting my hair spin out as he twirled me. Feeling him hard against my crotch. Arching back to the applause around us.

  My breath caught again as I stared into his eyes. Desire burned there. And I wondered if it was really for me, or if he was caught up in the heat of the dance. Selling it like I was.

  I could have stared at him forever. But I broke the gaze and reached my toes for the floor.

  I had never danced like this with anyone. Not even Robbie or Cowboy Jake, who were both smooth, confident, skilled partners. Their skills paled in comparison to Seth's. And maybe I was only kidding myself,
but it was way too easy to sell the dance to myself.

  The music ended. Seth ran his hand through his hair, spiking it up. Even with messy hair, he looked hot as he breathed hard. "Again?"

  Chapter 5

  Seth

  Maddie made me hot in a way no girl had before. And I'd been hot for a good many girls. Maddie was different. She made me happy and nervous. For reasons I couldn't explain. I felt, more than saw, Kelly staring at me from across the room, glaring possessively like she needed a partner and why the hell wasn't I asking her to dance? Like I had an obligation to her.

  The little bitch. Not that she couldn't have had her choice of partners. Not with the way she looked. But she wasn't trolling for guys tonight. She just wanted to dance with someone who knew how. And was pissed that the other good dancers hadn't shown up.

  It wasn't like she had any designs on me. Other than I could dance better than most. Sure, we'd casually flirted with each other over the years. But it didn't mean anything to either of us. It was just what we did. Kelly was like a sister to me, but her sense of entitlement pissed me off.

  On the other hand, I was completely mesmerized by Maddie. Couldn't Kelly see that? Damn, it felt embarrassingly like anyone with eyes could. I'd lost my calm. I ignored Kelly, heart pounding, mouth dry, until Maddie smiled and nodded.

  I wanted to show off for Maddie. I wanted to feel her legs clamped around me and see her breathless and flushed with exercise. Girls liked this dancing shit. Why do you think I did it?

  I looked her directly in the eye. "Do you know how to do the candlestick?"

  Her eyes sparkled and she grinned. "Yeah. Do you?"

  I liked the challenge in her tone. "Is that a rhetorical question?"

  She laughed. Damn, she made me happy.

  "We'll see how good you are in a minute. If you drop me—"

  "Wouldn't dare. Unless it's into a waterfall."

  She arched an eyebrow, giving me a smile that sent my heart racing out of control. This girl was messing with my mind.

  "Spinning my butt on the floor in the mop." She took my hand, and damn, it felt good in mine. "Extremely low dips and spins. I can meet any challenge you throw at me. Bring. Them. On."

  I squeezed her hand. "You're on. You can trust me. I haven't dropped a girl yet. But I can't promise not to step on your toes."

  Our gazes were locked.

  "When you dip and spin me, just don't bang my brains out."

  Crap, she did that on purpose. Now I had a sudden vision of banging her brains out. But not that way.

  The music started. I pulled her to an open spot on the dance floor. If you're going to do fancy moves, you have to stake out your territory and get them in early. Before the floor gets crowded. If you're good enough, people will continue to give you space to perform.

  Maddie eyes sparkled with challenge. As if she wanted me to push her to the limits.

  Damn if I wouldn't.

  She began by slithering and slinking. With my hands all over her. I wanted her in my arms. Away from the crowd. But I would have to settle for this. For now.

  I grabbed both her hands and whipped her around in a pretzel, faster and faster. Daring her to keep up or be caught in my arms. I was fast. She was just as fast. I liked the way she followed my lead, wishing relationships with girls were this easy off the dance floor. That communicating didn't need words.

  I signaled for a candlestick. She grinned and immediately began the steps that led up to the jump. The next instant she was in the air and in my arms. I caught a whiff of her perfume and a glimpse of her moist, kissable lips. I swung her legs to my right. Then to my left. And then she swung up and straddled me. Ride 'em, cowgirl. She was right where I wanted her. To stay.

  With her crotch pressed against mine, I went hard. Involuntarily. Like I could help myself with the thoughts going through my head and Maddie bracing her legs around me and rubbing up against me. Was she trying to kill me?

  I was sure she felt my boner. I felt every inch of her. She released her grip on my waist as I swung her upward until she stood straight up above me, her legs bent to make a four, her head resting on my shoulder.

  I'd warned her we were going to show off. I spun with her braced above me, her feet pointing toward the ceiling. The crowd around us had been growing thick. Now it parted to watch us.

  I stopped spinning and let her down, flipping her right side up, sliding her down me like I was a stripper pole, until we were face to face, hers perched just above mine. Our eyes locked. She cupped my face like a lover. This was the natural pause in the candlestick move. The place where you sold the audience on the seduction that was the dance. Where, from the right angle, the casual bystander would swear you kissed. Or should have.

  I wanted like hell to kiss her. Her lips were moist and shiny. She was breathing hard. Just as I went to toss her to her feet, her lips came down on mine. Her lips parted. Her tongue darted across my lips.

  And then she released me and slid free until her feet touched the floor. I was stunned. Reeling with the impact of her lips on mine.

  I grabbed her around the waist and dipped her until her neck was arched beneath my lips and all I wanted to do was kiss her. I fought the urge and pulled her back to a stand. Extended her to arm's length. I was supposed to be leading. But she was pulling all my strings. Holding on to her, I lowered my arm, leading her down as she slid into a sit on the floor. This move was called the mop. Basically, you spun the girl on her butt on the floor, wiped the floor with her.

  Wherever I led, she followed. However hard I pushed her, she pushed back, egging me to the limits. I lifted her into another aerial and dropped her in a waterfall. It was a dangerous move where the girl cascaded down you from above your head until you caught her in your arms. I'd only done it a handful of times. But the way we moved together was like we belonged with each other.

  I set her on the floor and took her hands. We spun into the pretzel again, which felt basic and elementary now. I spun her low at arm's length, so low that her head nearly grazed the floor. Carefully keeping her safe. Seeing how far she trusted me.

  As the song ended, I pulled her into my arms. We were both breathing hard. Our lips were inches apart.

  "Nice dance, cowboy." Her gaze held mine.

  I moved to close the gap and kiss her.

  Kelly tapped me on the shoulder from behind.

  I froze. Shit.

  "You look thirsty." Kelly came up beside me and shoved a beer my way, looking at Maddie like she was an unwelcome intruder. Her gaze bounced back to me. "You owe me a dance. And I expect some flair from you like I just saw."

  She slid a sideways glance at Maddie and back at me. "I thought you swore off fancy moves last year. You big liar. I want to candlestick."

  I rarely did extreme moves with the girls from the house. With any girl. I had to know she could move with me. There had to be an unspoken connection. The girl had to anticipate my moves and follow my lead without question. Kelly wasn't that kind of dancer.

  Maddie spun out of my arms before I could reply. "Looks like you're in high demand, cowboy." She walked off before I could stop her.

  Maddie

  My knees were literally weak when I came off the dance floor. I was trembling and trying not to show it. I had never danced like that with anyone before. Following Seth's lead had been as natural as if we'd been born two halves of the same person. I tried to rationalize away my reaction to him. Maybe we were just born to be dance partners.

  But the way my body reacted to him, I knew I was lying to myself. I wanted to make out with him in the corner. Let him buy me a drink and get drunk with him. I was already drunk on him. Talk to him all night. Find out everything about him. Even the mundane stuff like his favorite color and whether he liked broccoli.

  And then that sorority bitch had come along and saved me from myself. I should have thanked her, really. Did I really need a Seth the Charmer in my life? Was I anything more to him than the next casual flirtation? A hook
up?

  I looked around for Olivia and spotted her sitting in the corner with her leg propped up on a chair, a soggy napkin, with melting ice, I presumed, on her ankle. Crap.

  I made my way through the crowd to her. "What happened to you? Some guy step on your toes?" I pulled up a chair next to her.

  She sighed dramatically. "While you were out there getting it on on the dance floor, I rolled my ankle. Some guys don't know how to lead."

  "And some guys show off." I glanced at the dance floor and spotted Seth twirling the sorority babe. "Where's the guy?"

  Olivia held up a martini. "He bought me a little something to numb the pain, slapped a napkin of ice on my ankle, and disappeared. Story of my life. I kind of liked him, too.

  "What's your story? Who's the guy you were dancing with and why oh why did you let him get away? He's hot and he can dance as well or better than Robbie and Cowboy Jake. If I'd been dancing with him, I would have hogtied him rather than lose him to some bitch. I can't believe you let a Double Deltsie steal him."

  "That's Seth. Zach's roommate." I rolled my eyes to emphasize my point and show I wasn't crazy. She knew all about Seth.

  "Seth?" Her brow furrowed, like she was trying to remember everything I'd told her about him.

  I nodded. "Love them and leave them Seth. Yep. That's him."

  She glanced at the dance floor. "If I were you, I'd let him love me." She whistled. "But damn, girl. When I first saw you out on the floor, I thought you'd dragged Ian here behind my back. That you were pulling that old high school gag of letting people think your brother was your boyfriend. I actually did a physical double take." She nodded. "Seriously. Which is when I realized your guy was younger, and hotter, than your brother the professor."

  I grinned. "Wow. Hotter than Ian? That's something coming from you. You were in love with him forever." I nudged her playfully.

  She rolled her eyes. "In fifth grade." She shook her head. "Everyone's older brother is hot when you're in elementary school."

  "Shut up," I said. "You've told me much more recently what a hot guy Ian is."