Showmance

  “Sorry to interrupt, but I need to borrow my friend,” I said, tugging on his arm.

  “You’re not interrupting. Sit down,” Damon urged me, and his lovely accent gave me shivers.

  “Yes, Rose,” Julian added with emphasis. “Sit down.”

  Before I could respond, Damon pulled up an extra stool and ushered me onto it. Alicia remained quiet, watching the interaction in her champagne-coloured cocktail dress, her hair styled in waves like a fifties pinup. Damon wore a navy shirt and jeans, and I noticed how good his hair looked clipped short. He’d even used some product. I must have been caught up in staring at him because he cleared his throat and looked at me curiously. I studiously glanced away.

  God, what was wrong with me? It was like “One” from A Chorus Line started playing in my head every time I was in the same room with him these days.

  Julian stood and held an arm out to Alicia, asking her to dance. I could see it was on the tip of her tongue to refuse, but she didn’t want to come across as bitchy in front of Damon.

  “Sure,” she replied stiffly, and allowed him to lead her onto the dance floor.

  “Something on your mind?” Damon asked quietly as I watched them leave.

  I blinked and looked to him, feeling flustered for some reason. “A Chorus Line,” I blurted.

  “Pardon?”

  “I, uh, was just thinking of when Iggy and I worked on that show together. It was a lot of fun,” I told him. Could I be any more random right now?

  I was relieved when he didn’t comment on my tangent and instead said, “I like your shoes.”

  My breath caught at the simple compliment. I knew he was telling the truth because I remembered how he’d stared at them just a moment ago. Another shiver had the skin on my arms beading into pimples.

  “Thanks,” I replied.

  “Can I buy you a drink?”

  “Oh, no, you don’t have to do that.”

  “I want to. White, right?”

  “Yes, but you really don’t….” Before I could finish the sentence, Damon had the attention of the barman. A minute later, there was a fresh glass of wine in front of me. I couldn’t think of an appropriate topic of conversation, so I looked across at Julian and Alicia again.

  “He dances better than me,” Damon commented, seeing where my gaze was fixed.

  “That’s because I taught him everything he knows,” I answered, smiling. “But anyway, stick with me and I’ll have you strutting the boards like a pro in no time.”

  “I never considered not sticking with you, Rose.” He spoke low, and I blushed. What was with him tonight? He was acting more forward than usual. Perhaps it was the beer. I wondered how many he’d had.

  “Well, that’s good to know.” I swallowed and lifted my wine glass, knocking back a long gulp. A second later I felt a warm hand on my arm, and glanced down to see Damon’s fingers gently gripping me.

  “Rose,” he began, but was immediately interrupted by Jacob.

  “Oh, my God, you two would not believe the day I’ve had,” he complained as he called to the barman. “A double shot of whiskey, and make it snappy.”

  “I heard about Bob,” I said, pretending to empathise. It was hard to feel bad for someone as self-centred as Jacob Anthony. Don’t get me wrong — the man was a fantastic director, just not a fantastic person. Damon lifted a brow in my direction, and I noticed he’d withdrawn his hand. I mouthed the words “they sacked him,” and he nodded in comprehension.

  “Now I’m going to have to spend my entire weekend auditioning replacements. Bloody nightmare,” he complained, picking up the whiskey and downing it in one long gulp. “Again,” he told the barman. It was difficult not to chuckle at his drama-queen antics, especially when I made eye contact with Damon and saw he was having the same problem.

  “Well, I’d better go do the rounds. Show this one how to have a good time, won’t you, Rose?” said Jacob, patting Damon on the shoulder.

  “I will,” I replied as he disappeared into the crowds. Once he was gone I could finally let my laughter out. “My God, he’s such a diva.”

  Damon shot me a simmering look. “So you’re going to show me a good time?”

  “I’m going to show you how to have one. Don’t go getting any ideas,” I answered, waggling my finger at him. Man, he was being sassy tonight. Tipsy Damon equalled flirty Damon.

  “All right, show me how, then,” he taunted, so I stood and presented my hand to him.

  “Come with me.” I smirked, and he eyed my hand for a moment before taking it.

  I led him toward the dance floor, where Julian was trying his hardest to win Alicia over. I might have been mistaken, but I thought she appeared a little flustered by his sexy moves.

  I felt a tug on my hand before Damon leaned down to shout in my ear over the music. “I’m not dancing.”

  Shuddering slightly at how his breath washed across my skin, I turned to face him. “And why not? This is the perfect opportunity for you to practice in front of people.”

  “You can’t dance a foxtrot to this,” he grumbled, and I laughed because it was true. The “Cheerleader” song was playing.

  “Let’s try something a little more modern, then,” I suggested. “Just follow my lead. This song has a great drumbeat.”

  Once we reached the dance floor, I began doing some pseudo-Jamaican dance-hall moves, and Damon looked a little transfixed by my hips. It wasn’t a pointedly sexy dance, more cool and funky, but it did require a lot of hip rotations. “Watch my feet,” I told him as I took his hands. “Iggy and I teach this routine to the teens club we do at the studio once a month. It’s easy.”

  “Easy, right,” Damon deadpanned, and I chuckled.

  “Seriously, just move with me. You’ll pick it up,” I assured him.

  Suddenly, he let go of my hands and instead slid them around my waist. “I like this better,” he said, bringing his mouth to my ear. “Teach me like this.”

  “Um,” I said, fumbling for words. Our bodies shifted against each other as Damon moved to the beat. It was nothing like the dance I’d been trying to show him. That dance had been playful, this one was intimate…sensual. His closeness caused every nerve ending in my body to spark with electricity.

  “Okay, so, when I move my left shoulder back, you move your right shoulder forward and vice versa,” I instructed, my voice dry and scratchy.

  “Aye,” he murmured, but it didn’t sound like he was really listening. He sounded distracted, and that made two of us, because I could barely breathe with him so close.

  As we began to dance, Damon’s hands travelled up my back, sending tingles radiating all along my spine. The song ended and cut into another, this one slower. He stopped moving his shoulders and instead just held me, dancing slowly as his fingers found the nape of my neck and sank into my hair.

  “Damon,” I began earnestly.

  “Rose,” he said, his voice a low rumble. I felt it vibrate right through me.

  “You’re being very tactile.”

  “I told you I’m not a good drunk.”

  “Are you drunk?” I asked.

  “My inhibitions fly out the window,” he went on. “I do all the things I normally just think about doing but never act on.”

  “Oh.”

  “Say that again. I like it. Your lips go all round and pretty.”

  Before I could respond, Alicia appeared in front of us.

  “Mind if I cut in?” she asked.

  I wasn’t sure why, probably because I felt awkward and embarrassed by what Damon had just said, but I decided to make a joke. “Admit it, you’ve been dying to dance with me all night.”

  I had to give her credit — Alicia didn’t miss a beat. “As tempting as that sounds, Rose, I meant Damon.”

  Pulling away from his arms, I gestured with my hands and spoke louder than was necessary. “He’s all yours.”

  When I left the dance floor, I found Julian waiting for me with a glass of wine. “I thought you might
need this.”

  “You thought right,” I said, taking a sip. “I guess your attempt at wooing Alicia through dance failed, then.”

  “She’s a tough nut to crack, but that only makes the challenge greater,” he answered, unfazed.

  “I can’t believe I’m saying this, because all women adore you, but I just don’t think you’re her type. She wants Damon.” Even saying the words was painful.

  “No need to sound so glum, my darling. She thinks she wants Damon because he’s safe and loyal like a puppy. Before long she’ll come to realise that puppy dogs don’t have eyes for vixens.” At this he cast me a sidelong glance. “They have eyes for sweet blossoming flowers.”

  I snickered. “Is that a reference to my name?”

  “It is.”

  “Well, it was corny as fuck, and it looks like we’ve both lost our dance partners for the night. Want to watch me get drunk?”

  Julian smiled around his glass of tonic and lime. “But of course. Once you’re good and sloshed, I’ll coax out all your secrets.”

  “The trouble with that plan is you already know them all,” I said, and downed a long gulp.

  ***

  I was on my fifth glass of wine when I felt the sudden and uncontrollable urge to pee. Hurrying to the ladies’ room, I hopped from anxiously from foot to foot, willing the queue to move quicker.

  When I finally got into a cubicle, I sighed with relief before emerging to wash my hands. Alicia had skilfully kept Damon and me apart ever since she took him for her dance partner. I tried not to be bothered by it, because it was for the best if I was going to stick to my “no more actors” rule.

  Let them have each other, my drunken, unhappy brain grumped.

  All these gloomy thoughts had me gumming for a cigarette, and though I’d given up socially smoking years ago, I found myself wandering down the corridor that led to the bathrooms, searching for a way to the club’s smoking area so I could bum one off somebody.

  I hadn’t gotten far when I bumped into a rock-hard chest and glanced up to find Damon staring down at me.

  “Been looking for you,” he said, the shine of intoxication in his eyes.

  Maybe it was the wine, or maybe it was sour grapes, but I replied somewhat curtly, “I was sitting at the bar with Julian all night.”

  Damon’s brows furrowed. “I meant just now.”

  “Of course you did.”

  “Are you pissed at me?”

  I folded my arms and cocked a hip, which looked much sassier when you were wearing five-inch heels. I liked how they also made it so there was less of a height difference between us. “Nooo.”

  Okay, so the sasstastic posturing was ruined by the worst comeback ever.

  “You are. You’ve got a right stroppy look on your face,” he said, and I noticed he was moving us now so that my back became flush with the wall.

  “I’m just drunk.”

  “You said you were a giddy drunk. You don’t look giddy.”

  I didn’t know how to respond to that, so I simply lowered my gaze and hoped he’d let the subject drop. He didn’t.

  “I’m sorry about Alicia. She won’t leave off. It’s starting to grate.”

  “You didn’t seem very bothered,” I retorted, and his features darkened.

  “I was bothered,” he stated firmly.

  I just scoffed and looked away. Damon caught my chin and pulled my face back to him a little roughly. “You’re the only one I want to spend time with, Rose.”

  I shivered as a moment of intense quiet passed between us. Our gazes locked, and I inhaled shakily. His eyes were hooded, sharpening when they focused in on my lips. I swallowed unconsciously, and my breathing grew deeper. The loud club music was slightly muted out here, and all I could hear was my own heartbeat drumming in my ears.

  “That’s the beer talking,” I muttered.

  “Aye. I only tell the truth when I’m drunk.”

  Damn, he had me there. His gaze held me captive, and I felt like I was sinking into a pool of quicksand, completely lost in his deep, impassioned brown eyes.

  “You’re very close.”

  “Need to be to do this,” he grunted, and dipped his head. His lips brushed against my neck. I gasped and trembled when I felt his tongue flick out to lick a line across my skin. Shivers encapsulated my entire body as I grew hot and flushed. His crotch pushed against my stomach, his hardness pressing into me and giving me a very clear idea of what he was packing. His hips rocked back and forth, rutting, seeking, wanting.

  Wow.

  Perhaps Julian was right about him fucking like a wild man.

  A low moan escaped me when his hands found my neck, his thumbs pressing gently into the hollow of my throat. His hips pushed forward once more, his cock hard and ready. My hands gripped tightly to his shoulders, too shocked by what was happening to do anything else. A raspy growl emanated from deep in his throat as he licked me once more.

  “Tell me what your pussy tastes like,” he rasped, the blunt eroticism of the request bringing me back to my senses. What was I doing? I was drunk and acting crazy. Breaking away from him, I fell against the wall, my chest heaving as I tried to catch my breath. Arousal made my head feel dizzy.

  “I have to go,” I blurted.

  “Rose,” he called after me, but I didn’t look back.

  Nine.

  *Rose*

  The entire weekend I was in a lust-filled haze. I replayed what happened with Damon at the club over and over again, using it as material to get myself off. I had to. He’d turned me on so much that I felt like I might burst if I didn’t find some relief.

  Even though I’d been drunk, I remembered every detail, from the hot, wet press of his tongue to the delicious way his body felt pushed urgently into mine. His erotic, dirty words. I hated how I’d left things and wished I had the balls to call him and explain why I’d run off.

  He texted me Friday night just as the taxi pulled up to my apartment. One word.

  Sorry.

  He had no reason to apologise. After all, I’d hardly found what he’d done unpleasant. I didn’t respond to the text, because it felt too impersonal. I wanted to find him at rehearsals on Monday and properly explain why I’d run, why he didn’t want a clingy mess like me latching onto him anyway.

  When the weekend finally came to a close, I selected my favourite Nike yoga pants and a wraparound cotton top to wear to the dance studio. We had a big day ahead of us, and Iggy wanted to get the choreography for the club scene perfected before we moved on.

  I constantly scanned the room for Damon, but there was no sign of him. I only spotted him arriving a moment before Jacob strode in, and then my attention was all on our director. Or rather, the person he’d just ushered into the dance studio.

  Fuck. My. Life.

  There in all his perfectly imperfect glory was Blake. With shaggy dark brown hair and light blue eyes, he wore carelessly ripped jeans and a rumpled white T-shirt. A cigarette was tucked behind his ear, and he had that perennially tired “I’ve just been shagging” look on his face.

  Ugh.

  “Gather ’round, everyone, I have an announcement,” said Jacob, clapping his hands for attention. I watched the scene unfold with suddenly dawning horror. “As you may have heard, we’ve had to let Bob go, and here to fill the role of the Duke is none other than Blake Winters. I hope you’ll all give him a very warm welcome.”

  Everybody clapped, some approaching Blake and introducing themselves. Well, he wouldn’t be getting any warm welcomes from me. I had nothing but frost in my bones for that man. When my eyes met Damon’s, I saw that he’d recognised the name and put two and two together. He was all the way on the other side of the room, but I could still make out his expression.

  It asked, Are you all right?

  I gave him a slight nod to say I was fine, and then quickly fled for the bathrooms to have a meltdown in private. My heart beat too quickly, and though I’d just showered an hour ago, my entire body felt clammy with
sweat. I couldn’t do this. I couldn’t work with Blake again.

  I remembered how he’d befriended me, talking to me each day during rehearsals and gaining my trust. It didn’t take long for me to develop feelings for him, and although I was aware of his reputation, I convinced myself that I was different. That maybe I’d be the one he’d change his ways for.

  I know, I was an idiot.

  By the time we finally slept together, I was completely gone for him, lost in ideas of forever and always. It was too bad that his forever and always only lasted until he’d achieved orgasm. When he cast me aside I’d been heartbroken, but at least I’d gotten out early. And sure, I’d recovered from the hit my feelings had taken, but I was still raw. I definitely didn’t want to have to see his face every day for the next several months.

  Blowing my nose with a tissue and splashing some water on my face, I regained my composure and decided it was time to face the music. Just before I was about to emerge, I heard a hesitant knock on the door.

  “Rose?” It was Damon.

  I cleared my throat. “I’ll be right out.”

  One final look in the mirror, a deep inhalation, and I strode toward the door. Damon stepped back when I came out to avoid a collision. His eyes flickered over my face as he studied me in concern.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Yes.” No.

  “That’s him, isn’t it, the prick who — ”

  I silenced him by quickly covering his mouth with my hand. “Don’t say it. The walls have ears around here, and I don’t want any rumours starting. But yes, that’s him, and I’m fine, truly. I don’t need any coddling.”

  His eyes flicked down, sharpening on my fingers pressed against his mouth. I felt a tingle between my thighs when his gaze turned hot, and withdrew my hand. Damon wore a very masculine expression as he surveyed me, his brows drawn together and his mouth a straight line. It took him a few moments to come to the conclusion that I wasn’t about to break down in front of him.

  “Okay,” he said, seeming hesitant to continue. “About Friday — ”

  Nervous tension coiled inside me as I cut him off. “We can talk at lunch.”