Page 50 of Damaged Protector
My fingers traced the smooth leather of the black jazz shoes, and without another thought, I flopped down on the floor and slipped them on my feet. It felt foreign and familiar at the same time.
And good.
After changing into some black dance shorts and a spaghetti-strap top, I literally ran to the workout room, my feet and my body begging for the music.
I searched through one of my old playlists and turned on “All Eyes On Me” by Skinny Beats.
And I danced.
Chapter 14
My thumb tapped a hard beat against the padded steering wheel as I took a side street to avoid a traffic jam.
Wheeling into the driveway, I opened the garage door and pulled in before closing it behind me. As soon as I entered the house, I heard music, something entirely different from the Judas Priest I’d just been jamming to in the truck.
I followed the sound to my home gym and stalled in the doorway. Mallori was dancing, and that made me happier than it should have.
My eyes tracked her around the room as my ears filled with the sultry sounds of Aretha Franklin’s “(You Make Me Feel Like) A Natural Woman”.
She performed a series of spins—blonde hair flying around her—before leaping impossibly high and landing without any perceptible sound. Damn, she was so fucking graceful.
The music ramped up as it approached the chorus, and I found myself mesmerized. Mallori’s body moved like it was part of the music. Even if the song had cut off just then, I could have still imagined every note with each twist and turn of her slight frame.
As Aretha’s voice intensified, Mal turned into a goddamn seductress, hips grinding as she felt the beat in her soul. With closed eyes, she tilted her face to the ceiling, the tips of her hair sweeping the curve of her back.
Slender legs spread wide when she dropped low, and she dragged her hands up her body as she slithered back to a standing position. The eroticism of the move took absolutely nothing away from the beauty of her dancing.
The pure joy on her face was contagious, and I felt my lips curling up into a smile as she kicked her right leg so high it gave the impression she could kick the ceiling. How the hell did tiny little Mallori look larger than life when she moved?
I was absolutely sucked in by her. Little Bee was fucking stunning, and I found myself unable to look away
She somehow ended up on her stomach, her back arching as she tapped the top of her head with a pointed toe. So fucking flexible.
Mal noticed me then and stilled before rising gracefully to her feet and turning off the music with a tap of her finger against her phone.
“Hey,” she said, practically floating across the floor toward me. “I was just… you know… dancing.” Her hand waved vaguely through the air as she gave a halfhearted shrug.
“Yes, you were.” I paused, tapping my lips with my index finger. “You’re good, Little Bee. Like, really good.”
The shells of her ears pinkened, and her teeth bit into her bottom lip, barely masking the smile that looked like it wanted to break across her face.
“Thanks. I was just messing around.” She glanced thoughtfully toward the chair where her phone was resting. “I like that song though. I think I’ll actually choreograph something to it.”
“That was freestyle?” I asked, unable to hide the surprise in my voice. “It was so clean.”
“Look at you with the terminology,” she teased, poking me in the chest.
“It was impossible not to pick up some stuff from my sister growing up.”
She looked like she was about to bust, and then her smile finally showed up, lighting up the room. “I danced, Hawk!” Doing a little happy dance, she wiggled before throwing her arms around my waist. “I danced.”
The scent of sweat and sugar infiltrated my nose, and I placed my hands on her back. Her upper back. Nowhere near those itty bitty shorts she was wearing.
“I’m proud of you, Bee.”
She stepped away suddenly with a wrinkled nose. “Ewww, I’m sorry. I’m all sweaty.” Thin straps crisscrossed her chest, revealing her damp skin. I had the urge to dip my tongue into each opening and…
No. Fuck, man. Shut that shit down.