Dance With Me

by Kristen Proby

  “Give it a little time. He’ll be better.”

  “In the meantime, I have to have dinner with her, watch her wipe his mouth with her napkin, and smile the whole time.”

  “We do ridiculous things for love.”

  Jax laughs and cues up the next song. “Okay, now that I’ve got that off my chest, shall we try this again?”

  “I don’t know, are you going to maim me?”

  “No, drama queen.”

  “Takes one to know one.”

  The music starts as Jax laughs and reaches for my hand, easily guiding me around the floor in the familiar routine we’ve been working on. It’s a slight change from the one we already had for this song; I just like to mix things up once in a while.

  This will be a nice change when it’s time to go out on the road again.

  We run through it twice more, and each time, I stick the landing perfectly. No more falling on my ass.

  “Okay, I was throwing too hard,” Jax says. “I’m sorry.”

  “I’m gonna live.” I plant a kiss on his cheek as Levi walks through the door and narrows his eyes on Jax.

  “Do I have to kill you, man?” Levi asks.

  “Nah.” Jax holds out his hand to shake Levi’s. “She just can’t keep her hands off me.”

  “This room is suddenly full of male ego.” I roll my eyes. All of a sudden, one of my most famous ballads comes through the speakers, and to my utter shock, Levi sweeps me into his arms and leads me into an easy slow dance across the floor. “Well, look at you, fancy-pants.”

  I wouldn’t expect a man as big as Levi to move so effortlessly. It’s sexy as hell to be in his strong arms, moving around the room.

  He’s singing along with the music, too, his voice a smooth baritone.

  “I don’t know if I’ve ever been so turned on by someone singing my own song to me,” I confess with a soft voice.

  “You write good music,” is all he says before he begins singing again, leading me in the sexiest slow dance in the history of the world.

  “Thanks for coming to get me.”

  “I was glad when you asked,” he admits.

  Jax came and got me and brought me to the studio, and I asked Levi to pick me up since we had plans to go out for dinner anyway.

  “Have you had any other contact from the psycho?” he asks.

  “No, thank goodness. Everything has been blissfully drama-free. Have you had dancing lessons?” I ask.

  “Not unless you count watching Dancing with the Stars.” He smiles down at me, pure joy radiating from him, and I’m completely intoxicated. This is a new side to Levi, one I’ve never seen before.

  He tugs me closer and grinds against me, making me laugh.

  “Hey, none of that,” Jax calls from the edge of the room. “Get a room, Crawford.”

  “That’s the plan,” Levi mutters as he leans in to kiss my cheek. “Let’s get out of here, sweetheart.”

  “I thought you’d never ask.”

  “I can honestly say I’ve never had sex in a police car before.”

  We’re sitting in the restaurant in a circular booth, next to each other. Levi’s hand is on my still-tingling thigh.

  “That makes two of us,” he says with a smile and leans in to whisper in my ear. “But it won’t be the last time.”

  We’re not young adults. Keeping our hands to ourselves shouldn’t be difficult. And yet, as soon as we made it from the studio to his car, I was straddling his lap, and his hand was down my yoga pants. It was fast and dirty, and so damn satisfying.

  “Focus on the menu,” Levi says beside me, not looking my way.

  “I am.” It’s totally a lie.

  “Squeezing your legs together like that gives you away.”

  I glance up at him and then break out into a laugh. “Who knew I had this side to me?”

  “It seems we’re bringing out new sides of each other.”

  “Hi, I’m Candy.”

  I look up to find a bored waitress in her early twenties holding a notepad and a pen. “What can I get you?”

  She hasn’t even looked at us, which is fine with me because I’m not disguised today.

  “I’ll have the salmon Caesar salad,” I begin. “With an extra side of bread. Carbs are my soul mate.”

  She smirks, but she still doesn’t look our way. “And for you, sir?”

  “New York strip, medium rare, with the wild rice and a side green salad. I’d also like some bread.”

  “Okay,” she says, jotting it all down. She glances up when she reaches for the menus and then stops cold when she sees me. “Oh, God. You’re Starla.”

  “No, I—”

  “Holy shit! I’m your biggest fan, like . . . ever. I know all the songs. And when you had that cameo in the movie with Adam Levine? Holy shit, so good.”

  “Uh, thanks.”

  “Can we get some photos? And your autograph?”

  “Later,” Levi interrupts, glaring at Candy. “After we’ve had a chance to enjoy our meal, please.”

  “Oh. Right.” She nods but then frowns. “Wait. Are you one of those stars who gets pissed when people just want to talk about how much your work means to them? Because I have to be honest, I think that’s bullshit. As your fan, I’ve bought everything you’ve ever recorded, and concert tickets, too. Like, you’re rich because of me.”

  “Right,” I reply, completely pissed off and ready to just go. At this point, she’ll probably spit in our food anyway. I’ve learned from experience, there is no bouncing back from this. She’s already pissed off, and neither Levi nor I have done anything wrong. “It’s awesome that you’re such a big fan. I really appreciate it. Levi, we can just go.”

  “Oh, now you don’t want to eat here?” Candy demands, propping her hands on her hips. “If you don’t want to be recognized, you shouldn’t leave your damn house.”

  “Wow,” Levi says, crossing his arms over his chest. “Why do you think you can speak to her like that?”

  “Well, because I’m her biggest fan,” she says, and I can feel my cheeks blazing with embarrassment and anger. “Also, you should reply to your email.”

  I stop cold. No way. There’s no way we just happened to come in and eat where my stalker works. What are the odds of that?

  Zero.

  I’m being ridiculous. She probably just sent some fan mail that I didn’t see. I shouldn’t automatically jump to the worst-possible conclusion.

  I want out of here.

  “I’d like to go,” I say to Levi as I glance around the restaurant. Other customers have stopped eating and are watching us with rapt interest. Some have even taken out their phones to record the incident. “Please, they’re recording us.”

  “No problem,” Levi says, scooting out of the booth and reaching for my hand.

  “You had drinks,” Candy says. “You can’t just leave without paying for them.”

  “Yes, they can.” A man walks up behind Candy, surprising her. “I’m so sorry for the harassment from my employee. This is not how we run our business. You’re fired.”

  “What?” Candy demands.

  “Get out,” he says and turns to us. “I understand that you want to go, but come back anytime for a meal on us.”

  “Thanks,” Levi says with a nod and pulls me close to his side as he leads me out of the restaurant. I tuck my face into his shoulder, trying to avoid being recorded by the phones pointed at us.

  “That was a disaster,” I say as we sit in his car. “I’m so sorry.”

  “What are you sorry for? That girl was ridiculous.”

  “Oh, that was tame compared to some I’ve met.” My heart is racing and in my throat. “At least she didn’t touch me.”

  “Christ,” he mutters, putting the car in gear and driving away from the restaurant. “Why are people so ridiculous? Why couldn’t she have just quietly told you she enjoyed your work? Then we could have gotten on with our day.”

  “Most do that,” I concede. “Ninety-nine perc
ent of the time, people are gracious and kind, and just want to say hello. The other one percent is a little . . . odd.”

  “That’s a polite way of putting it.”

  “Well, it’s true. That whole scene will be all over social media and the tabloids within the hour—if it isn’t already. I’m sorry for that because your face is there, too. And now people will dig into who you are, and it could be uncomfortable for you.”

  “I’m a big boy,” Levi says with a sigh. “I’m fine. I don’t give two shits about social media. I just don’t want anyone to ever speak to you like that.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Are you still hungry?”

  “Hell yes, I am.”

  He grins over at me. “Should we go get some Red Mill and take it back to my place?”

  “That’s perfect. I didn’t really want to be good with a salad anyway. A burger sounds delicious.”

  “Done. But we’re getting an extra order of fries because last time you ate half of mine.”

  “Why are you so protective of your fries?”

  “Because I’m hungry.”

  “We’d better get two extra orders.”

  “You’re really hungry.”

  “Sex in a cop car does that to me.”

  ~Starla~

  “Fuck me,” I mumble as I page through my Instagram. I’m in Levi’s bed, the sheet wrapped around my naked body. I can hear Levi in the shower, blissfully unaware of the social media shitstorm that I’m watching.

  There are videos of the whole scene—from different angles, of course. The comments below them range from whoa, what a bitch! The waitress just wanted a photo! to why don’t people leave celebrities alone when they’re trying to live a normal life?

  There are more still photos, some zooming in on Levi.

  “What in the hell?” I read the caption on one of the pictures.

  Does anyone know who the tall drink of water is? I don’t recognize him. Is he famous?

  And the comments . . .

  He’s not famous. I did a Google image search, and it looks like he’s a cop in Seattle.

  Love his salt and pepper hair!

  What does Starla want to do with an old dude? She’s way too good for that. Hell, I’d fuck her.

  In your dreams, asshole.

  Maybe he’s her bodyguard?

  Oh, that could be.

  “What are you scowling at?” Levi asks as he walks into the bedroom, naked as the day he was born. My eyes feast on him, taking in lean muscle and smooth, tan skin. He’s hot as hell, and anyone who thinks differently can bite me.

  “This turned into a social media mess,” I reply. “I’m surprised the publicity team hasn’t started texting me yet.”

  “It can’t be that big of a deal,” he says as he slips on a clean pair of boxer briefs. “That chick was out of line.”

  “Photos and videos spin things,” I mutter. “And it pisses me off that they’ve dragged you into this.”

  I whip the covers off and reach for my clothes, yanking them on in jerking motions.

  I’m so damn pissed.

  And who the hell am I to think that I can have any kind of normal relationship, with Levi or anyone else? This will always happen. The media and fans will twist it to be something ugly.

  “Starla.”

  “I think maybe I should go home. I’ll call an Uber.”

  “Hold on.”

  “No, it’s better this way.” I shake my head as I slip my feet into my shoes. “It’s just not going to work out between us, Levi, and I was silly to think that it might. It’s not fair to do this to either of us. To open us up to gossip and scrutiny. You didn’t ask for this.”

  “Stop moving.”

  His voice is hard, catching my attention, and my gaze swings to his. He’s pissed off. His jaw is clenched, his hands balled into fists.

  “What the fuck, Starla? I’m not a child. I’m capable of making my own life choices, and if being in a relationship with a ridiculously famous woman is one of those choices, well, it’s mine to make.”

  “I just think—”

  “I said stop,” he snaps, and I blink at him in surprise. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe I shouldn’t want to be with you, but it has nothing to do with what strangers are saying about us on platforms I don’t give a rat’s ass about, and everything to do with the fact that you suddenly seem to think I’m a child that needs protecting. I’m not a child.”

  “I know you’re not.”

  “The other night, after one of the worst days I’ve had on the force, you sought me out and comforted me. You said there would be rough days, and you’re right. Well, same goes, sweetheart. That’s just life.”

  He walks to me. Slowly. Deliberately.

  “Now, we’re going to get you back out of all these clothes. But the first thing you need to take off is your insecurities. If we’re in this together, we’re in it. Together. Whether I’ve had a rough day at work, or you have. Or anything else that comes up.”

  I stare up at him in wonder as he peels my clothes off, and when I’m standing naked before him—both physically and emotionally—he picks me up and takes me to the bed, laying me down gently on the soft linens.

  “You’re amazing,” he whispers, kissing over my shoulders and up my neck to my lips. “Stunning. Smart. Kind.”

  “I’m not always kind.”

  “Liar.” He bites my lip, then kisses my chin and works his way down to one breast. “You’re kind and sweet. And when it’s just you and me, it doesn’t matter if ten million people know your face or want to know about your life.”

  “I have twenty-five million followers,” I say, sassing him.

  He cocks a brow. “None of them are here. It’s just you and me.”

  His hand blazes a trail down my belly to my core.

  “You don’t belong to them.” He slips two fingers inside me, sending my hips up off the bed. “You belong to me.”

  My eyes find his as his fingers work me over, and his lips latch around a nipple.

  “Who gives a shit what anyone else thinks?” he says when he lets go of my flesh with a loud pop.

  “I don’t like them saying horrible things about you.”

  I gasp as he presses the pad of his thumb against my clit.

  “They can’t hurt me.” He watches me with hot brown eyes as I climb higher and higher, riding the delicious wave of an impending orgasm.

  But before I get there, Levi reaches for a condom, slides it on, and sinks inside me until he’s buried balls-deep. And then he stops. We’re both gasping for breath, staring at each other intently.

  “They can’t hurt me. You’re mine, Starla. You’ve been mine for a long time. Maybe forever. It just took me more than forty years to find you.”

  Tears spring to my eyes. My God, where did this amazing man come from?

  “So all we have to worry about is what’s happening right here, between us. Fuck the rest of them.”

  I press on his shoulder, and he rolls, switching our position. I’m riding him now and grinding down on him with every stroke, sending electricity through every nerve ending of my body. Being with Levi is so different from being with anyone else.

  Anyone.

  It’s like this is where I was supposed to be all along.

  “Same,” I whisper as I lean down and press my lips to his. “We belong to each other. And you’re right, I’m too damn old to give a shit about what everyone else thinks about my love life. I’m happy. And if you’re happy too, that’s all that matters.”

  He grins and wraps his arms around me, holding me tightly as he kisses and fucks the hell out of me, not just tipping me over the edge, but pushing me with everything he’s got.

  I bear down, contracting around him as the orgasm consumes me. I’ve never felt anything this intense in my life.

  I hear Levi moan, long and loud as he surrenders to his own release.

  I don’t want to move. I want to lie on top of him forever, soaking in his wa
rmth, his breath, everything.

  He calms me and speaks truth into me in a way no one ever has. No one’s ever bothered to try.

  “What is it?” His hand glides up and down my spine.

  “I’m just happy.” I sigh and kiss his jaw. “Like, this happiness might be illegal.”

  “I won’t arrest you.” He kisses my cheek before rolling us to our sides as he smiles in that mischievous way he does. “But that doesn’t mean I won’t use the handcuffs on you.”

  “Can we do that next?”

  He laughs and pulls me to him. “Easy, girl. Let me recover from last time first.”

  “Well, hurry up.”

  “I had no idea that police departments had such nice facilities.”

  We’re standing in the middle of a gym at his work, and Levi is squatting more weight than I’ve ever seen on a bar at one time.

  He’s so damn strong.

  “It’s easier to come here to work out before or after work.” He’s sweating as he sets the bar back on the rack. “While I rest, you can do leg presses. Come here.”

  He leads me to a machine and gets me ready to go, then watches me carefully as I complete three sets of ten presses, upping the weight with each set.

  My legs are strong, but I feel the strain.

  While I rest, he goes back to squats. And so the next hour goes, alternating between sets, with him taking a turn, and then watching me closely as I take mine.

  He’s actually super sexy when his hand finds my ass as he leads me from each piece of machinery.

  “I don’t usually lift weights,” I admit as I stretch out my legs. “I do a ton of cardio and yoga, but I don’t always have the equipment or time to do weights.”

  “You should,” he says as he sets his dumbbells down and smiles at me. “It’ll help your cardio, as well.”

  “Your arms are so damn hot when they’re full of blood.”

  I bite my lip, looking Levi up and down, and then run to him, hopping up into his arms and wrapping my legs around his hips. He catches me easily.

  “Stay where you are.” He reaches for his phone, turns on the camera, and points it to the mirror, taking a picture of us. I don’t smile for the camera. Instead, I kiss his cheek as he looks at the lens.