Ballroom Blitz

  A moan escaped and she plunged her finger into her pussy, bumping her hips up to drive that digit in deeper.

  Jon’s erection dug into his stomach when he dropped to the mattress. But he ignored the pain and latched onto Maggie’s butt cheeks, pulling her sex against his mouth. He thrust his tongue into her pussy alongside her finger.

  “Oh God.”

  He scraped his teeth over her knuckle. “Move your hand.” As soon as she complied, his thumbs spread open her swollen sex. He licked and sucked every inch of her intimate flesh, feasting on her.

  Maggie had clamped her hands to his head as she thrashed beneath him. She jerked his scalp after he’d lightly grazed her clitoris with his teeth. “Sorry.”

  “Don’t be,” he growled. “It turns me on when you pull my hair.” He used the very tip of his tongue to flick across that distended nub. She made sexy whimpering mewls and he fastened his lips to the pliant, throbbing skin and sucked.

  “Keep doing—yes, just like that.” Her body seized up and he felt the climactic pulses against his mouth.

  After Maggie’s legs quit twitching and the pressure on his scalp disappeared, he placed a soft kiss above her mound. He pushed off the mattress, ditched his shorts and rolled on a condom.

  Their eyes met and then he was on her, in her. Thrusting into that tight, wet, hot cunt.

  She locked her ankles on his ass, trying to pull him deeper with every stroke. “This feels so good.”

  Jon intended to push her a level or twenty above good. This first time would be spectacular. “Maggie,” he murmured between thrusts. “Let me take care of you. Let me get us there.”

  “Yes. Anything you want.”

  He gradually slowed, groaning when her channel clamped down, trying to keep his cock inside. He rested the tip just inside the opening to her sex. Despite his thundering heart and the urgency pounding at him, he found that Zen spot and began.

  One, two, three, four shallows thrusts, where he only went halfway into her pussy. On the fifth thrust, his cock stayed buried deep. He stayed that way, not moving, for five beats.

  Then one, two, three, four shallow thrusts. On the fifth count he pulled out completely. After five breaths, he slowly stroked the tip of his cock up the contour of her mound, stopping at her clit. Then he dragged the wide, blunt head down, separating her pussy lips with his pulsing flesh until he reached the opening to her body.

  He began again.

  Maggie went wild. Arching against him. Her fingernails digging into his shoulders. Gouging his ass as she fought for a grip on his sweat-coated skin. Her mouth nipping at his neck. Her tongue tracing the edges of the tattoos on his biceps.

  Jon kept up the primal pattern until he started to lose count. He said, “Hang on,” and rolled upright, keeping their bodies connected as they faced each other. With his knees spread wide, he sat on his heels, holding onto her ass, raising and lowering her body to counter his upward thrusts.

  “I’m gonna come again,” she wailed.

  The almost violent ripples of her orgasm unleashed his.

  Hot pulses jettisoned out of his cock with every squeeze of her pussy muscles around his shaft. His mind blanked even as his body erupted and he gasped for breath.

  Teeth scraping against his neck brought him out of his sexual stupor.

  “I take it back,” Maggie panted against his ear. “Everything I said about you not having rhythm.”

  For a brief second when Maggie woke up, she forgot where she was.

  Then soft kisses peppered her shoulder. A rough hand on her belly caressed her bare skin. “Mornin’, beautiful.”

  The deep, heavy rasp of Jon’s voice was even sexier first thing in the morning. “Mmm. That it is.”

  “Did you sleep well?”

  “When you finally let me sleep.” She snuggled her naked body into the warmth of his.

  “That didn’t sound like a complaint.”

  “It wasn’t.”

  “Good.” Jon’s hand slid up to cup her breast. “You want breakfast?”

  The rhythmic stroking on her nipple had her arching into his touch and a moan slipped out.

  His low-pitched growl drifted into her ear. “That purr is the sexiest thing I’ve ever heard, so maybe we oughta get out of bed now before we end up spending the whole damn day here.”

  “I’d like that, except I have to be in Rapid City this afternoon for dance rehearsal.” She groaned. “Crap. And after a night like that, I completely forgot that my car is dead.”

  Jon rolled her over to face him. “I’ll call up my mechanic buddy and send him over to look at it. He’ll probably need to tow it.”

  “That’s fine. Tell him there’s a spare key in a rip in the upholstery underneath the passenger’s seat.”

  “Handy. Now we won’t have to leave.” His lips glided over hers in a barely there kiss. “Eggs and toast all right?”

  “Mmm-hmm.” Maggie pressed a kiss to his Adam’s apple. “Do you have an extra toothbrush?”

  “Bottom right drawer in the guest bath.” Jon got up and stretched beside the bed.

  Talk about a nice visual first thing in the morning. Perfectly round buns, slim hips widening into a muscular back, defined biceps, triceps and forearms—all wrapped up in that gorgeous tawny skin. Such a shame that he tugged on a pair of long athletic shorts and covered up before he headed to the master bathroom.

  Maggie snatched the tank top off the floor on her way to the guest bath. Maybe she snooped while searching for toothpaste. She didn’t find anything that’d lead her to believe he regularly entertained overnight female guests.

  Would it have made a difference if you’d found fruit-scented body wash?

  No. But she’d be wary if she’d found tampons, makeup or a hair straightener. Those items suggested a permanent, recurring female presence.

  After scrubbing her teeth, washing her face and attempting to de-snarl her hair, Maggie padded to the kitchen.

  Jon’s wide smile made her weak-kneed. “To hell with cookin’. You look good enough to eat.”

  “I believe you dined on me last night. Twice.”

  “True. But it didn’t fill me up. Only increased my appetite for more.” He grabbed a fistful of her hair, angling her head back to plunder her mouth with a thorough kiss.

  There was the belly-churning sensation she experienced every time he touched her.

  “You’re too tempting,” he murmured and released her. “You want tomatoes and cheese in your scrambled eggs?”

  “Sure. Do you want me to do anything?”

  “Just look pretty at my breakfast table while I serve you.”

  “How much honey did you pour in your coffee this morning, rock star?”

  Jon laughed. “None. It’s all the gospel truth. Sit.”

  Maggie sipped strong coffee and watched him multitask, cooking bacon, eggs and toast and slicing fruit. Then he slid a plate in front of her, heaping with food. “Do I look hungry?”

  “We burned plenty of calories last night and you’ll burn even more dancing today so eat up.” He sat across from her with an equally mounded plate.

  She shoveled in a bite and swallowed. “These eggs are amazing.”

  “Thanks. I got to thinking… I’ll drive you to Rapid today since you won’t have a car. There’s stuff I need to do and I can hang around in town until you’re done rehearsing. Maybe I’ll convince you to have a late dinner with me and breakfast tomorrow morning.”

  Maggie drained her coffee and got up for a refill, absentmindedly refilling Jon’s cup too.

  He placed his hand on her wrist. “Did I say something wrong?”

  “No. It’s just…” Her eyes searched his. “Why are you with me?”

  “I like being with you. I want to get to know you outside the dance studio. And outside the bedroom.” His fingers skated up her arm in that seductive way that caused goose flesh to cover her arms. “Although you won’t hear me complaining if you wanna get better acquainted there too.”
/>
  She smooched his smirking mouth. “Fine. I’ll accept your gracious offer, but you’ve gotta do one thing for me.”

  “Name it.”

  “Come out with us tonight. I usually hang out with Seth, his partner Stanis, and Seth’s sister Sara after rehearsal.”

  “Sounds like fun.” Jon left the kitchen to call the mechanic.

  After Maggie finished loading the dishwasher, she turned to see Jon leaning against the wall. She still did a double take whenever she saw him. The man was stunning with his fiercely beautiful face and his badass posture. It seemed like a dream that she’d had her hands and mouth all over his incredible body last night; and that he’d had that sinful mouth and those talented hands all over her.

  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