by Letty James
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Perfect Rhythm
by Letty James
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Erotica/Romance
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The Wild Rose Press
www.thewildrosepress.com
Copyright ©2009 by Letty James
NOTICE: This work is copyrighted. It is licensed only for use by the original purchaser. Making copies of this work or distributing it to any unauthorized person by any means, including without limit email, floppy disk, file transfer, paper print out, or any other method constitutes a violation of International copyright law and subjects the violator to severe fines or imprisonment.
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CONTENTS
Dedication
Reviews
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
About the Author
Also available
Chapter One
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Perfect Rhythm
by
Letty James
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.
Perfect Rhythm
COPYRIGHT ©
2009 by Letty James
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author or The Wild Rose Press except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
Contact Information: [email protected]
Cover Art by Angela Anderson
The Wild Rose Press
PO Box 708
Adams Basin, NY 14410-0708
Visit us at www.thewilderroses.com
Publishing History
First Scarlet Rose Edition, February 2009
Published in the United States of America
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Dedication
To Celeste, for believing since day one.
To Betsy for the candles and encouragement.
To Pam and Laura for making it so fun.
To Abby and Waverly, for all the Johnny pictures. And, as always, to the original J.D.
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Reviews
In Perfect Rhythm, voluptuous LeeAnn sings a sensual duet with sexy crooner, Johnny Dorado, and the heat rises with every note. Find a fire extinguisher before you start, because Letty James delivers a scorching read.
~Sharon Buchbinder
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Chapter One
I love you Johnny!” a girl screamed from the back of the room. LeeAnn Mukulski rolled her eyes. Of course they all loved him, but what idiot fan would be so obvious?
“I love you, too.” Johnny's gravelly voice sparked all sorts of fantasies in LeeAnn's margarita-soaked brain. He swept back his deep brown hair and smiled at the crowd while every lust-crazed woman in the room imagined him singing just to her. How many men were getting lucky after this concert tonight? If that sweet man Gordon Forrest had accepted LeeAnn's invitation, she'd be rubbing her bare foot all over his lap right now.
She sighed as Johnny slid his harmonica out of his jeans pocket. If a man could play harmonica well, he could do all sorts of magical things with his tongue. She dabbed at her damp cleavage with her napkin just imagining his tongue dancing over her skin. Oh, baby. She wanted to hear every note of his new big band-influenced sound.
“Hey, Johnny. Can I have that?” Rosie shouted next to her. LeeAnn stared at her friend. Had some kind of virus infected the room? A girl didn't act like that in this kind of venue. You clapped. You screamed. You acted like the just-turned-thirty adult that you were and bought the CDs and the tee-shirts hoping against hope that Johnny would come out and autograph them. You told him he inspired you. You fluttered your eyelashes while he slid those sparkling green eyes over you. If you were really brazen, which would take quite a few more margaritas for LeeAnn, you had him sign your breasts. Then, you went home and dreamed about having him in your bed. You did not, NOT, demand extra favors of the stars. Bad audience form.
“What are you going to do with it, babe? Sell it on the internet?” Johnny leaned against the microphone stand, his eyes on Rosie. Actually talking to someone at their table. LeeAnn thought she would fucking die. Pam and Laura sat there with their mouths open like guppies.
LeeAnn snapped hers shut and looked up at Johnny Dorado, her dark-New-Jersey-Italian-dream-man. The ends of his straight brown hair curled under his multi-pierced ears. Leather armbands with brass studs circled his tanned wrists like superhero cuffs. One click of the metal studs and he could rock her world. He winked at LeeAnn. He fucking winked at her. Her body flamed. Oh. My. God. She blinked and looked back at Rosie. He had to have winked at Rosie.
“Of course not. I'll treasure it always.” Rosie smiled up at him. She's got a boyfriend, LeeAnn wanted to shout. She's going to give it to her boyfriend ‘cause he couldn't come and that's his consolation prize and he won't even care as much as I do. LeeAnn swung back to Johnny.
“That's what I wanted to hear.” The crowd laughed as Johnny tossed the harmonica toward Rosie, hitting the top of LeeAnn's head. “Oh, shit. Sorry, darlin'. Never was any good at baseball. Guess I better keep my day job.”
LeeAnn stood up, rubbing her head, the crowd tittering around her. Fuck ‘audience good form'. She decided to take the bull by the horns, so to speak. More like, the man by the wrists. If some stranger could do it, and Rosie could do it, then she could do it. Besides, her horoscope this morning had said go for broke. Surely, this is what it meant—a chance to get more out of Johnny Dorado than an autograph. Hell, she must have ten of those. “How about a kiss, Johnny?”
“Oooo.” The crowd went nuts as Johnny's eyebrows rose.
“Right here.” LeeAnn pointed to where Johnny had hit her with the harmonica.
“I can think of better places to kiss you, sweetheart.”
The band had jumped in on the joke, the trombone player making wa-wa sounds. LeeAnn's face flushed with heat, along with other delicious female bits, but no way in hell was she backing down. She had Johnny's full attention for the first time in ten years. He held out his hand to her. Immediately the bouncer stepped between them, his large sweating form blocking her access. Johnny leaned away from the mike so the crowd couldn't hear him. “That's OK, Leo. I don't think she can hurt me. At least not too much.” Leo grunted and stepped aside. LeeAnn slid her hand in Johnny's and prayed she wouldn't faint.
She stepped up onto the stage, teetering on her new four-inch black stilettos. They were eye-to-eye, pointy toe to scuffed work boot. Another harmonica had appeared out of nowhere and he licked it in foreplay. LeeAnn's lower back broke out into a sweat. Johnny had been known to get nasty with demanding fans. She knew. She'd been following his career for ten years. It was like they had crested past puberty together, the way his songs echoed all her feelings. Would he break the heart of his number one fan by putting her in her place?
“Do ya sing, darlin'?” The crowd went quiet.
“Show'em, LeeAnn. Sing.” Rosie shouted up to them. LeeAnn flipped her blonde hair behind her shoulder and narrowed her eyes. The bastard meant to embarrass her. Just because she had blonde hair and big tits didn't mean she was stupid.
“How about Tobacco Road?” She named her favorite Dorado song, a duet he'd done with Mabelle Lane before the gospel singer had died.
Johnny signaled to the band and they star
ted the intro. LeeAnn stepped up to the mike as Johnny stepped back. Her voice came out clear and low just like Mabelle's had. She closed her eyes and channeled the older woman, swinging to the beat, her voice rising as the chorus swung in.
Johnny sang with her and they soared, blending as smoothly as tequila and lime. LeeAnn opened her eyes and clapped her hands to the beat as Johnny's harmonica stepped in. By the second verse, LeeAnn felt like fate had plopped her squarely where she ought to be. As they rounded into the refrain, everyone in the crowd had jumped to their feet and were singing along.
The last verse LeeAnn and Johnny sang together, their mouths an inch apart at the mike, their voices seamlessly harmonizing as they pledged to travel the road together. Her heart pumped pure joy as the crowd went wild. Rosie, Pam and Laura hooted and hollered over LeeAnn's performance. She did a little curtsey for the crowd and Johnny, turning to wave thank you to the band. Take that, Mr. Dorado.
“What's your name?” Johnny leaned in close, his breath tickling her ear, raising goose bumps all down her arms.
“LeeAnn.” No way would she tell him her last name. He'd probably make fun of her.
“Let's give it up for LeeAnn, everybody.” The crowd clapped again.
Someone in the back shouted, “Kiss her.”
Johnny's shocking green eyes met hers. She offered him her cheek. Instead, he grabbed her around the waist, dipped her over his knee and planted one right on her kisser. A quick kiss that lingered, searing her brain. Their eyes locked and the world spun. She grabbed his shoulders, dizzy from either the sudden movement or his kiss, she couldn't tell.
“Thank you, LeeAnn. You Maryland ladies take my breath away.” Johnny launched into Breathe, a fan favorite. The bouncer reappeared to help LeeAnn off the stage and her fifteen minutes of fame ended. Rosie handed her another margarita and she gulped down the cold drink. What a perfect night.
She stumbled to her car after buying a tee shirt and Johnny's latest CD. The crowd had dispersed quickly when Johnny didn't appear to schmooze after the show. The girls had left, Pam being their designated driver. LeeAnn promised Pam she'd call a cab to take her home. But right now, all she wanted to do was listen to Johnny's new CD.
Opening the passenger door of her car, she plopped down on the seat. Turning the keys in the ignition, she slipped the CD into the car stereo, cranking up the volume. A cigarette would have been nice, but she'd quit smoking two years ago. Maybe she'd rethink that. Three margaritas and she became a bumbling idiot, although they had given her the courage to demand a kiss from Johnny Dorado.
What a sexy hunk of man. Oh, to have such courage when sober. She'd never been shy around ordinary guys, but she wouldn't classify Johnny as ordinary. Her hand went to her lips, remembering Johnny's quick kiss. Had she imagined some connection there, or was it the alcohol buzz and the high from singing? It had been as if their souls intertwined during the duet. Yeah. LeeAnn snorted. More like testosterone and estrogen boinking in mid-air. She sighed again. If only.
One foot tapped on the asphalt to the beat as she sang along to the music. Dreams of suburban bliss with Johnny spun through her head like cotton candy at the fair. Two point five children, a cottage with ivy creeping up the sides and a white picket fence to keep the dachshund in the yard. Yeah, and Johnny's amps blowing out the windows. Don't think the neighbors would appreciate that. Good ol’ Johnny was fun to dream about, but he sure didn't fit into any of her more realistic fantasies. Maybe she ought to start following folk singers.
LeeAnn dug through her purse searching for her cell phone. During the lull between songs, heavy footsteps echoed over the parking lot behind her. LeeAnn held her purse tight, suddenly realizing how vulnerable she was sitting in the dark.
A man slid into the driver's side of her car. “Hey, baby.”
Johnny Dorado. In the flesh. Calling her baby. Holy fucking cow.
“Close the door. Let's go for a drive.”
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Chapter Two
LeeAnn automatically pulled her leg inside and shut the door. Johnny turned down the music to background level. His hair hung damp around his face, the front of his white shirt wet as if he'd poured water over his head. His jacket looked a hundred years old, the leather scarred and cracked, making him look even more of a bad boy.
“Where are we going?”
“Anywhere. Nowhere. I need a smoke. You got any?”
Yeah, definitely time to start again. “No. There's a convenience store a couple blocks east of here. You should quit. Smoking is a nasty habit.”
His gaze cut over to her, flashing in the dim light of the dash. “Yeah. So's drinking. It fucks with your head. Ever notice that?”
Thank God, it was dark enough he couldn't see the blush heating her whole body. “Well, then I wouldn't have kissed you.”
“You wouldn't kiss me sober?”
That shut her up.
They reached the convenience store and Johnny jumped out, leaving the car running. LeeAnn fumbled in her purse, finally locating her phone. Who should she call first? Doreen, who had completely missed the concert? Rosie? Pam? Laura? They were all going to fucking die when she told them. Squeal with total fucking appreciation. Maybe she'd take their picture, their heads mashed together in the frame and send it to all of them. Johnny leaned against the counter, talking to the clerk inside, who'd obviously recognized him, shaking his hand, signing an autograph. Damn, she didn't even have one of those from the night to put in her scrapbook with all the others.
She snapped her phone closed and threw it back in her purse. Damn the man for being nice. He slid back in the car handing her a raspberry-flavored water.
“Here, baby. A little something sweet and cold to wet your whistle.”
“Do you know who I am?” LeeAnn couldn't wait and twisted open the bottle of water. Those margaritas had had a lot of salt on the rim.
“You talk like you're the Queen of Sheba. Should I know anything beyond LeeAnn and you've got the most fucking amazing voice I've heard in years? I was damned lucky to see you out in the parking lot. Ya know, baby, that wasn't the most intelligent thing to do.” He fumbled with the pack of cigarettes while he steered the car with his knees.
“Give me those before you get us killed. And stop calling me baby. You know my name.” She stripped the cellophane off the pack and tossed it in the Hello Kitty trash bag. She might not keep her house too neat, but her Mustang convertible got a wash, wax and vacuum every week. She knew the value of a man magnet. She'd bought it off a broke former boyfriend who restored cars as a budding business. He'd been more heartbroken over the car then over her. The jerk flew out of her head when Johnny pulled out the glowing cigarette lighter.
“You can't smoke in here.”
“You're a reformed smoker, aren't you?” The cigarette bobbed in his mouth as he talked. He held the lighter still in his hand, watching her with all-too-knowing eyes. She looked out over the Naval Academy Bridge, the soft yellow glow of the bridge lights making the water look black. Johnny's voice from the speakers wrapped around her, transporting her to another world, just like he always did.
“My dad died of lung cancer two years ago. Kind of took the fun out of smoking.” She leaned her head against the window, cold against her warm temple. The cigarette lighter clicked back into place, but she didn't smell smoke. She looked over at Johnny. He'd tucked the unlit cigarette behind his ear. He took her hand, giving it a squeeze.
“That really sucks. I'm sorry.”
“Thank you. I'm sorry, too.” LeeAnn squeezed his hand back. He lifted her hand to his lips and, after a whisper of a kiss, put it back in her lap. She wanted to touch her hand with her lips, a ghost kiss.
She turned to him, studying the ring and studs that trailed up his ear, the tattoo that twisted around his neck. Her tongue wiggled against the back of her teeth, eager to taste him. Poor guy probably had women jump on him all the time. Yeah, rough life. He'd get no sympath
y from her. Maybe they could just talk, musician to fan. Right.
“If you keep going this way we're going to hit the toll bridge.”
“What do you suggest?”
“Depends on what you're in the mood for.”
That gaze beamed over her again, like searchlights.
“A bar? Food? Music? Quiet?”
“Quiet sounds nice", he said. “Someplace I can get a beer, maybe a sandwich, put my feet in the water. Hang out. Maybe you'll sing for me again.”
“I know just the spot.” She'd go for broke. See what happened. She'd call him a cab if he complained. Somehow she didn't think he would.
She hadn't brought any man to her new-to-her house. The girls had helped her clean out the house and make it hers after Dad had died. Laura had done the feng-shui thing along with burning incense sticks and prayers. Doreen had brought a cake to celebrate. Rosie brought the champagne and quiet little Pam had brought the most thoughtful gift of all, a kitten to chase away the blues. A kitten who had grown up to a sleek black hunter with piercing yellow eyes who would not take kindly to having his territory invaded by a man. The girls he loved, but whenever a neighbor of the male persuasion stopped by, he became a hissing maniac. Her dad, reincarnated as a twelve-pound furball.
Her porch light gleamed a welcome against the midnight darkness. Johnny hadn't said anything on the drive through the narrow, twisting, tree-lined streets of her neighborhood. He turned off the car and they sat in the quiet, charged darkness.
“Nice place. I don't think I could find my way out of this neighborhood, though.”
“Do you want to?” For just a moment, she had second thoughts.
“Depends on what's inside.” He made her house sound like Pandora's Box, full of decadent possibilities. Before she could respond, he opened the car door, the harsh interior light making her cringe. He fluidly stepped out of the car as LeeAnn scrambled out her side.
