Page 46 of Fire
“Well, I guess I thought if I were ever at a private club with a bunch of rock stars?—”
He smirks. “We’d be drowning in pussy and knee-deep in coke?”
I laugh, nearly choking on my champagne. “Something like that.”
“We used to be like that. Well, minus the coke. None of us has ever been into the hard stuff—except Mitch. But he was into a lot of stupid shit that eventually caught up to him.”
I can tell that his former bandmate is a sore subject, so I decide to sidestep it altogether.
“So this is what you do now? Just hide up here and…talk?”
He must see me looking at the crowd because a mischievous grin spreads across his face. “Are you bored, Doc?”
“No! I?—”
“Is this night of frivolity not up to your standards?” A rueful smile spreads across his face, and I realize he’s teasing me.
“I guess I just thought there would be more…” I huff out in frustration. “Dancing.”
“Oh, so you want to dance?”
I bite my bottom lip before finally relenting. “Sort of. It’s been a while since I’ve had the opportunity. But I don’t exactly want to go alone, and there is absolutely no one who can go with me who won’t be mauled by half those girls?—”
“I’ll do it.” He shrugs.
“What?”
“Even with all the social media I do, I rarely get recognized. Perks of being the drummer. Always in the background,” he explains. “And it’s so dark, I doubt anyone would notice me, anyway.”
“Are you sure?”
“Hell yeah.” He sets down his drink on a nearby table and holds out his hand, and that’s when I see him. Hendrix stands not too far away, talking to Zander but glaring at me. “Come on, Doc. Let’s go have some fun.”
For some reason, as I look away from Hendrix and take Darius’s hand, I suddenly feel a twinge of guilt, which is crazy.
We agreed to keep this professional, right?
So why do I feel his eyes on me the whole way to the door?
About halfway down the stairs, I have a slight moment of panic.
I did not think this through.
Do I want to dance? Yes.
The way the music is pulsing and the lights are flashing, how could I not? I just didn’t think about the fact that I would be dancing with Darius.
Up close and personal. With his body…so close to mine.
He pulls us into the throng of people, and true to his word, no one seems to give a fuck. No one tries to rip his clothes off or beg him to sign their boobs. They just carry on, completely swept up in the beat.
When we’re somewhere near the middle, he stops, and I don’t even have time to be nervous. This man’s confidence leaves no room for it. He pulls me close, his hands snake around my hips, and then we’re dancing, just like that.
I learn fairly quickly that Darius is a damn good dancer. He’s the perfect blend of playful and sexy that I need to feel comfortable. That is, until he flips me around and pulls me flush against his chest, and suddenly everything gets way more intimate.
My heart hammers in my chest as he grinds his hips against me and leans down to whisper in my ear. “Do you think he’s watching?”
I tense in his arms. “What? Who?”
