“Damn straight you are. You’re free to dance with whoever you want,howeveryou want. Bradley doesn’t deserve to hold this sway over you, so look at me.”
I held my breath and dared a peek at Dante. The strength in his calm eyes made my heart begin to pound.
“Dance with me, Star,” he purred softly as his grip moved from my hands to my hips. He pulled me a little closer. “Let me make you forget his voice.”
The temptation to give in was there. The whispered allure of relenting to Dante made shivers break out on my skin. His ability to make me forget the bad nearly made me cave. Butthe monsters in my head fought with our last fear until I found myself admitting quietly, “I’m not good enough.”
I wasn’t good enough to dance withtheDante Braxton, lead guitarist and sex icon of Sinners Do It Better.
I wasn’t good enough to be friends with someone loved by billions.
I wasn’tgood enough.
The admission made heat rise to my cheeks, and I quickly looked away to ramble, “I mean, I’m not a dancer. I have no idea what to do, and I’m sure you’ve danced with people far better and—”
I gasped softly as Dante gripped my chin between his thumb and forefinger. He raised my head until our gazes locked, and he finally pressed his body right into mine.
“Star,” he interrupted without a hint of aggravation over my worries. “There’s not a damn thing you could do right now to turn me off. Not worthy? You need to stop looking at yourself in the way Bradley painted you. Instead, see yourself asIdo. Sexy. Perfection.Worthy. Don’t be afraid of what we could do. I’m not Bradley. You aren’t going to be shamed or belittled for anything you do when with me.”
The assurance with which he spoke had me softening and my walls cracking. I was already so worn down from the week, not to mention from the extra fresh blow of running into Courtney and John.
My defenses were practically decimated, so I found myself wanting to believe him. I wanted to believe that I was sexy and worthy of acceptance. God knew I’d never felt that way before. But Dante made those things seem real and possible.
So with my hooded eyes locked on his and chin still gripped between his fingers, I wrapped my arms around his neck and began to move. The subtle lift at the corner of his mouth waswicked, and he released my chin to grab my waist and push his body against and with mine.
Our dance was slow, soft, and searching at first. I couldn’t turn my nerves off like a switch, but the hungry gleam in Dante’s eyes paired with the way he continued to grind against me without any sign of disgust emboldened me. I’d roll my torso against his or swivel my hips to press us into each other, and with each touch of his body, my limbs loosened. My mind cleared of the worries. Finally, I let go and danced.
I moved without hesitating, and Dante matched me as “No Hands” filled the club’s loud speakers. Dante turned me around in his arms and grinded into me to the beat of the song while dragging his hands up the full curves of my hips and onto my sides. My breath hitched, and my eyes fluttered closed. Butterflies broke free beneath my skin everywhere he touched. The feeling was new, yet I was already addicted. I longed for that sweet buzz rushing through my veins and settling between my thighs. I longed to get closer to the man at my back.
Time became lost. I didn’t know how long Dante and I danced in our own little world. I’d lost count of the songs playing overhead. My body had heated to dangerous levels, and my heart raced as I pressed my chest into Dante’s yet again.
He grinned down at me and slid his hands across my lower back to hold me close. “Want to grab another drink?”
I was sad to separate from him, having grown comfortable in his hold, but my throat rejoiced at the idea of getting a beverage. “Yes, please!”
He guided me to the circular booth tucked into an alcove in the wall. I waited there, fanning myself while he grabbed us a drink. Fire continued to rage in my bloodstream with the fuel of our dance. My body had been ignited in sweet flames, which burned away all of my insecurities, leaving strength in its wake. The way he touched me, looked at me, and folded his body alongmine … it was exhilarating, like the plummet from the top of a rollercoaster.
Dante reappeared with two glasses in hand. He slid into the booth beside me and set my drink—another club special—in front of me.
“Thank you,” I grinned.
I sipped on the sweet drink while Dante threw his back. I tried to not watch his throat as he swallowed or focus on how his tongue ran across his lip to gather a drop of the bourbon. Dancing had awakened something needy inside of me, and I feared that if I didn’t distract myself soon, the confidence he was trying to instill in me would have me crossing the “friends” line.
My phone buzzed on the table, startling me from my salacious thoughts. When I saw Bradley’s name lighting up the device, my stomach dropped. Worry gnawed at my insides as I wondered if Courtney and John had told him I was here—or worse, that I’d vanished upstairs with the lead guitarist of Sinners Do It Better. Dante noticed the incoming call, too, and the easygoing calm on his face tightened in annoyance.
I quickly reached for the phone as the call ended, and I realized I had a dozen messages from him asking where I was, apologizing for earlier, begging me to talk to him, and vowing that he loved me. Guilt squeezed my chest in a vice-like grip, and my hold tightened around my phone.
“Ignore him,” Dante said. While his tone was casual, his hard jaw and tightened brow were enough to tell me he was anything but calm. He continued to stare at my phone.
I worried the inside of my lip and fidgeted in my seat. “Sh—Should I?”
“Yeah, you should,” Dante answered as he finally met my gaze. “He’s just trying to get in your head again.”
A new call lit up my phone. What if I was hurting his feelings by avoiding his calls and messages? My resolve to ignore Bradleyfor the betterment of myself waned slightly. Dante must’ve picked up on that, because he quickly snatched my phone. He smirked as he denied the call.
“Dante!” I gasped, trying to reach for my phone.
He held it high and out to his other side, far out of my reach. His smile never faltered. “Yes, Star?”
