At Last

by Mindy McKinley

  He froze. It was familiar.

  “Ladies and gentlemen”—the owner appeared by her side and held her hand up—“the incomparable Tallulah Stanley.”

  “Oh fuck.” He sat back in his chair, stunned. The hopes of making this luscious woman his shattered completely.

  Seb tore his eyes away from the stage. “What?”

  Dom shook his head. It couldn’t be. “No, no, no, no, no ...”

  “What, man?” Seb pressed, confused.

  “It can’t be.”

  Seb stared.

  Dom finally pulled his eyes to his brother. He felt shell-shocked. “I know her.”

  “Her?” He sounded doubtful. “No way, she is way out of your league.”

  He couldn’t believe he had just spent the last five minutes eye-fucking his co-worker. His quiet, strange, never-been-really-fucked coworker. The realization did nothing to calm his cock. He nodded slowly. “No, really, man, I work with her. She teaches at East.”

  Seb let out a whistle. “You lucky fucker, I suppose you’ve already bagged that.” He grinned wickedly. “Which means it’s my turn.”

  The thought of Seb touching her made his stomach boil. “Don’t you fucking dare,” he growled, causing Seb’s eyes to fly open.

  “What? Why?”

  That was an excellent question.

  He ran his hand through his hair and searched for an answer that made sense. “She’s a good girl, she’s not like that.”

  Seb smirked. “I highly fucking doubt it. Did you see that ass?”

  He swallowed. He had seen it. He had definitely seen it.

  Lula

  “Oh my god!” Lula cried as Amy’s arms engulfed her. “That was amazing.” She couldn’t catch her breath. She had never felt more powerful, more alive, more wanted than she had on that stage. Now she understood why her mother had been addicted to performing.

  Amy squealed and squeezed her. “I’ve never seen anything like it, you were breathtaking.” She held Lula at arm’s length, tears streaming down her face. “Every eye was on you. I don’t think anyone even breathed. I think I fell in love with you.”

  Lula laughed, her chest heaving as her nerves and excitement coursed through her in waves. Her own tears fell as Amy caught her in another hug. She was the only one who truly understood what this meant to her.

  “You are one seriously talented babe,” her friend said softly. “Your mom would be so proud.”

  “It was her favorite song.” Lula giggled as she wiped her tears away. And it was the perfect way to honor her birthday.

  This moment could not have been better. It was everything she had dreamed of except for ...

  SHIT.

  Her eyes flew open at the memory that damn devilish smirk of his.

  “What?” Amy asked.

  “Oh shit,” Lula whispered, looking at her friend with wide, terrified eyes. “He was here, at the front.”

  “Who?”

  “Dominic Adams.”

  “Oh shit.”

  “Oh shit,” she said again.

  Amy shifted into problem-solving mode, her light brown curls bouncing. “Don’t worry about it. He probably didn’t even recognize you.”

  “They said my name.”

  “Okay, there’s that ...”

  She cringed. “Oh, Ames, I touched his face,” she wailed, wanting to curl into a ball of shame. She was glad they were alone backstage.

  Amy’s eyes flared. “You did? You minx. I’m so proud of you.”

  Lula covered her face. “I didn’t even recognize him at first, I was just in this ... this zone. It was that stupid smile of his.”

  “You touched Dominic Adams in a sensual, powerful way. There is nothing to be ashamed of.”

  “But, Amy!”

  “Calm down, Lu, what’s the big deal?”

  “Only that I’ll die of embarrassment every time I see him, or that I made a fool out of myself in front of him, or that I was overtly sexual.”

  “All right, stop, you’re overreacting. You did nothing embarrassing and you most definitely didn’t make a fool out of yourself. If anything, he should be begging for your number now.”

  Lula thought about how it felt when she touched him, and that buzz in her stomach returned. “I did feel powerful,” she admitted and smiled at her friend. “I’ve never felt like that before.”

  Amy grinned. “It’s about time, don’t you think?”

  Lula nodded. “I do.”

  “Well, then”—Amy grabbed her arm and pulled her toward the bar—“let’s celebrate with a drink.”

  Lula let her pull her out into the crowded room, the other vocalists swarmed about, drinks in elegant hands. They were all so fabulous, so extraordinarily talented. She had no idea why she had been selected for the finale. She almost felt like she should apologize.

  Before they could make it all the way to a table, she had to turn down a dozen different drinks and as many phone numbers all the while ignoring Amy’s “I told you so” look.

  She had spotted Dominic and his friend, brother maybe, at the back of the bar, but he didn’t seem to be aware of her. She breathed in relief. Maybe he had not put two and two together.

  Her nerves settled as they sat down. They made a gorgeous pair—she in her black satin, Amy in her short blue dress. She sipped her drink happily and let her muscles relax. This was the happiest she had been in ages without her nose in a book.

  That happiness ended the instant she spotted Dominic coming toward her. That grin, that stupid fucking grin. She went rigid and looked around foolishly for something to cover her chest with.

  “Lula.” His voice moved across her skin like a kiss as he came to a stop at her table. “That was, I don’t even know what to say ... amazing.”

  His handsome and clearly eager friend burst forth, took her hand, and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. “What he really means is that you were fucking brilliant.”

  Lula couldn’t help but smile, and the dark look crossed Dominic’s eyes sent a thrill through her stomach.

  “Knock it off, Seb.” He grumbled and nodded toward him. “Please excuse him; this is my idiot brother Sebastian.”

  Lula’s eyes widened as she made the connection. “You’re Seb Adams? The Jazzmen, right? Oh my God, I loved your last album!” He was the best tenor sax in the country and not a bit hard on the eyes. Not at all.

  Seb gave his brother a victorious look and bowed to her with a flourish. “I am,” he said, taking her hand once again. “It’s nice to meet a fan that knows what she’s talking about.”

  “Oh my God, your solo on ‘Til Dawn’ made me weep. Weep.” She wasn’t even overplaying it.

  Seb beamed.

  Dominic mumbled something and Lula was surprised to see him look so irritated. As if anyone, even his admittedly handsome brother, held a candle to the beauty that was Dominic Adams. His shoulders alone were enough to fuel the hottest of her fantasies. She let go of Seb’s hand.

  “Anyway,” Dom continued, stuffing his fists in his fitted pants, “I just wanted to congratulate you; you were fantastic. More than fantastic.”

  Her heart fluttered like a flute. “Thank you. That’s very kind of you. I’m ... I’m surprised to see you here, actually.”

  “That’s my fault,” Seb cut in again, “I forced him to come, he’s not much of a jazz aficionado. You know, if you ever want to sing for a real band, I can talk to Jerry, I bet he’d love to do a cover with you. I’ll just give you my number.”

  “Seb,” Dominic cut him off curtly.

  Seb kept going, “Or we could just get out of here and talk about it.” He gave her what she assumed was his most winning smile. That smile had probably dropped countless panties, but it was still no comparison to the Dom Adams grin.

  “Seb,” Dom bit again, grabbing him by the arm, “we’re just about to leave.”

  “Maybe you are,” Seb said, trying to get his arm away, but Dom wasn’t having it.

  “Boys,” Amy said, inte
rrupting the two of them. She stood and continued, “I’m afraid it’s time for me to whisk the lady away. It is a school night after all.” She gave Dom a side smile. “See you tomorrow, Adams.”

  “Yeah, Amy, see you tomorrow,” he answered, clearly uncomfortable.

  Lula took the opportunity to escape and stood quickly. “Good night, thank you for coming,” she breathed and dashed off with Amy on her arm giggling.

  “I don’t think either of those men even knew I was there until I spoke up.” Amy laughed as they burst into the cool night air. She hugged Lula to her. “I am so proud of you. You beautiful beast.”

  Chapter 4

  Dominic

  Dominic woke up irritated, cock still rock-hard from watching Lula Stanley of all people prance around on stage like some sort of femme fatale. Jesus. He could not stop the image of her perfect ass in that satin dress from constantly looping through his mind. It was maddening.

  And that horrible yellow owl sweater from earlier in the week? How was it even possible they were worn by the same person? It made his head fucking ache.

  With the help of the blackest coffee he could find, he stumbled into school and prayed that he wouldn’t run into her, that he could keep his cock under control, that he could keep some sanity.

  “Whoa,” Chaz breathed when Dom burst into the office with a dark look on his face. “What the hell happened to you?”

  “Long night,” he bit, throwing his bag on his desk and flopping down in the chair.

  “Going to tell me about it?”

  “No.” Dom took a long swig of his coffee and started up his computer. Describing the night to Chaz was not going to help matters.

  His friend shrugged and went back to reading his paper. “Whatever, man.”

  Feeling worse for being a dickhead, Dom explained, “Seb talked me into going to a jazz club last night, didn’t get much sleep.”

  “He’s back in town for a while, right?”

  “Couple months. I’m going to have to restrict him to weekends only. The man has no schedule.”

  “Lucky fucker,” Chaz muttered and went back to reading.

  For a few blissful, quiet minutes Dom was able to focus. He sorted through papers and made sure the PowerPoint he needed for the day’s lectures were ready. He sighed as the memory of Lula floated toward the back of his mind like a movie he once enjoyed.

  Feeling a hell of a lot better, Dom grabbed his things and headed for his classroom. On the way he chatted with another teacher about the Cubs’ prospects and then, just as soon as everything felt normal, it all fell to shit again.

  She was walking toward him, arms full of books, wearing her signature Chuck Taylors and a sweater that would make a kindergartner jealous. It would have been impossible for her to look any more different than the previous night.

  He studied her, trying to find any hint of that inner sex kitten. There wasn’t a trace. A touch of tiredness around the eyes but no hint of the goddess he had seen in that smoky club. Something pulled in his stomach.

  “Adams, Thompson,” she mumbled, as she passed them. She kept her eyes to the ground and hurried by as if she hoped to be invisible.

  It didn’t work. His eyes followed her automatically, slipping slowly down her backside to that luscious ass. He swallowed as he watched the perfectly shaped globes bounce. How had he not noticed before? It was a fucking work of art.

  He trailed her, having completely forgotten his conversation. A slightly cinnamon scent danced behind her. He breathed it in deep. It was delicious.

  In three quick strides, he had caught up to her. “Hey, let me help you.”

  Lula froze with a squeak of her tennis shoes and turned toward him. Her face was a mixture of suspicion and irritation. “No, it’s okay, really, thank you.”

  Dom grinned and grabbed the top half of her stack of books anyway. She was not going to get rid of him that easily. “You can barely see over these.”

  She eyed him through her thick frames and he noticed her dark amber eyes for the first time. They were astonishingly beautiful.

  “I’ve made it this far just fine,” she pointed out.

  He shrugged. “Well, I’m not putting these back so you might as well just let me help or I’m keeping them.”

  Rolling her eyes, she muttered something he couldn’t hear and continued toward her classroom without waiting for him.

  He happily followed.

  She didn’t speak until she had unceremoniously plopped the books on her desk, and when she whipped around her eyes were alight with irritation.

  He tried to disarm her with a smile.

  When that failed, he set the books down carefully.

  “What do you want, Adams?” Lula demanded, hands on the perfect curve of her hips. Her cheeks were just about the same bright pink as her sweater.

  He loved this unexpected feistiness; it made his pulse quicken. “I just wanted to help,” he put his hands up innocently. “I swear.”

  “I’ve walked by you at least a hundred times before,” she pointed out. “Why are you so interested in helping today?”

  The way those sinful lips pursed when she was frustrated brought back thoughts of her bright red mouth from the night before. He had imagined those same red lips over and over—on his neck, on his cock .... He cleared his throat and swallowed. “Well, it’s time I made up for ignoring your needs before, don’t you think?”

  “Right.” Her voice was cool as she studied him. “And it has nothing to do with last night?”

  The slight break in her voice made him pause. It occurred to him that she was worried he would tell everyone about her performance at the club. Fuck that, he wasn’t sharing that secret with anyone.

  She waited, a delicate, defiant lift of her chin. Her jaw was tight, and he could just see the pulse in her lovely neck.

  “Lula,” he said softly, he could feel the fire radiating from her. His body pulled him toward her, wanted her. He could feel hers did too. “I don’t plan on sharing that with anyone.”

  Her cheeks flushed furiously and he had to pocket his hands to keep from reaching toward her and tucking a piece of stray hair behind her ear.

  She swallowed, her arms falling to her sides in what seemed like awkward relief. “Okay. Well. Thank you.”

  He smiled.

  She stared. “You can go now.”

  He could but he wasn’t going to. Instead he spun around the room and took in her classroom. It was warm and inviting with spaces for reading, cute little handmade curtains and inspirational posters. “Nice room,” he told her, she clearly cared about the environment she provided for her students.

  Lula returned her hands to her hips but the color in her cheeks remained. “If you’re done, I really need to get ready for first hour.”

  Dom didn’t move, just rocked back on his heels with a satisfied smirk. She wanted him. He had to work hard to not whoop for joy.

  Letting out an exasperated breath, she tried to push past him, but he grabbed her wrist before she could get away.

  The contact made her hesitate. When she looked up it was with wide eyes and parted lips.

  His heart thundered. Christ, she was absolutely stunning. Even in her Crayola color box get-up.

  He didn’t know what his next move should be so he simply caressed the inside of her wrist with his thumb. He felt that pull again, that slight buzz when their gazes held, as if he was falling into her.

  He desperately wanted to kiss her, but before he went too far, he whispered, “Have a good day, Miss Stanley,” and left the room.

  Lula

  “What the ...” Lula collapsed onto the top of one of the student desks and stared blankly at the door. Her wrist still tingled from his touch, and his cologne was everywhere.

  What the ever-living hell? Dominic Adams hadn’t said anything to her outside of professional courtesy for three years. Not that she had counted, or been disappointed.

  And now? What? He sees her dolled up once; realizes she ha
s a body, is in fact a sexually viable adult, and now he pays her attention?

  “Ass!” she shouted, shooting up from the desk. If he thought he could waltz into the room with his broad, muscled shoulders and sexy green eyes and make her swoon, he was mistaken.

  She stomped around the room, getting it ready for her students, mumbling about chauvinism when an image of him leaning in to kiss her, brushing his thumb slowly across her bottom lip, flooded her brain. “Dammit!”

  “Miss Stanley?”

  Her head whipped up, cheeks flaming, to see a student standing in the doorway, her mouth agape, eyes like full moons.

  “Oh, hiii, Kaylee,” she cooed, hoping it didn’t come out as insane as she heard it. “How are you this morning?”

  Kaylee stepped into the room and looked around. “Are you okay, Miss Stanley, you seem a little ... flustered?”

  Lula waved a hand in the air and turned back to her task to hide the embarrassment that was climbing her neck. “Just a little tired this morning.” She gulped some air and regrouped. “What can I do for you?”

  Kaylee recovered quickly and her words bubbled out of her. “I was just wondering if you had that list together for me? I don’t mean to pester you about it but ...”

  “That’s fine.” Lula stopped her with a smile and moved to her computer. “It’s finished, I just need to print it for you.”

  Kaylee let out a squeal that’s pitch was nearing the top of human decibel range. “Oh, thank you, Miss Stanley.”

  Laughing, Lula found the document, hit print, and tried to forget about the way Dominic’s thumb had caressed her wrist.

  “Why do I feel like you’re not telling me something?” Amy pointed at her with her fork. A large chunk of lettuce fell from it and back into her salad bowl.

  Lula shrugged and took a tiny bite out of her sandwich. She wasn’t about to go into the encounter with Mr. Adams this morning; Amy would needle her until she burst. “Just so tired,” she moaned and stuck her feet out. “And my feet hurt.”

  “Of course they do, beauty has a price.”

  “Beauty can kiss my ass.”

  Amy laughed. “Seriously, Lu, every time I think about you up there last night, I tear up. You were gorgeous, and your voice”—she sighed dramatically—“like a modern-day Ella.”