Page 9 of Smokey's Distraction
Smokey laughed, a deep, warm sound that resonated through her. “Not exactly. What brought you to the club tonight?”
“The Raging Demons. They’re one of my favorite Denver bands.”
His eyes slid over her again. “Are you from the city?” He leaned in so close that she could smell his breath, a mixture of beer and mint.
Ashely scooted the stool over a bit. “Yes.”
Smokey countered her by nudging forward. “So you’re a tourist?”
“Uh-huh,” she mumbled. Ashley was acutely aware of him beside her. She could smell the woodsy scent of his cologne, feel the heat of his body burning through her. She glanced up at him, and her stomach fluttered beneath the intensity of his stare.
“Are you looking for some fun?” His lips were practically touching the skin on her neck.
I can’t do this. I’m sure he picks up women every weekend at the bar.She let out a deep breath and shook her head, hoping that would clear the sensual fog. “No, I’m not. I came to support the band.” She pointed to the stage. “Looks like they’re getting ready to rock.” Draining the rest of her vodka sour, she reached behind her and put the glass on the bar.
“Maybe we can grab a bite to eat after the show,” he said.
“Maybe.” All she wanted to do was get away from this beyond-sexy Casanova. She jumped off the stool, then stumbled over her feet. His strong arm curled around her waist and kept her from falling face down on the floor. The touch was annoyingly electric, and she pulled out of his grasp and muttered a “Thank you” before tugging down the hem of her skirt.
Suddenly, the accentuated drumbeats started to pound, and Ashley grabbed her clutch and rushed over to the dance floor. The loud music made her skin shiver as she let it pour over her. The guitarist shook out his long hair and sent beads of sweat flying past the stage lights. The frantic sound of a screaming guitar laid below the lead singer’s gravelly vocals. Ashley swayed to the music, forgetting where she was as her hips and shoulders moved with the rhythm. Intermittent laser lights flashed on the stage, and beneath it, dry-ice smoke swirled in an array of blues and acid greens.
A long-haired man decked out in full leather—pants, sleeveless vest, wrist cuffs, and boots—bumped into her as he drunkenly pushed his way to the front of the stage. The music absorbed Ashley’s cries as she lost her footing and fell back against something hard and warm. Strong arms circled around her, holding her tightly, and she arched her head back and met Smokey’s penetrating dark eyes. She should’ve pulled away after throwing him one of her pissed-off looks and moved to the other side of the dance floor, but she didn’t. Instead, Ashley leaned her head back against his firm chest, and they moved together to the rhythm of the music. And to make matters worse, she felt a current of excitement against the warmth of his body, his groin rubbing against her backside, his palms flattened against her stomach, holding her firmly to him. The way their bodies melded sent blood rushing quickly through her and heat pooling between her legs.
Smokey said something in her ear, but she couldn’t make out what it was over the din of the music and the crowd. She closed her eyes and let the songs fill her and take her away.
“Thanks to all of you for a fucking awesome show,” Axel said. The lead singer bowed to the crowd, then pointed at Ashley. “Never thought I’d see you in the crowd. Damn sweet.”
“You dance real good,” Smokey said, whispering the words hoarsely in her ear.
She untangled herself from his arms and twisted around, backing away slightly. “It was so crowded on the floor.”
“Is that your story?” The corner of his mouth turned up into a smirk, and he rocked back on the heels of his boots.
She cocked her head then shook it. “Don’t flatter yourself. I could barely move with all the people around.”
“Okay,” he said.
“It’s true. And you were standing practically on top of me.” She narrowed her eyes and chewed the inside of her bottom lip. He didn’t say anything, just stood there looking at her with that damn smirk on his face that was pissing her off. “Anyway”—she glanced at the stage—“I don’t need to explain myself.”
“I agree—so why are you?”
“I’m not … well, I was, but I’m not going to anymore.” She tapped her index finger against the base of her throat.
“Okay.”
I’d love to slap that fucking smugness off his face.
“What?” Smokey said, his brow rising a bit. “You look pissed off. I’m just not sure if it’s at me or yourself. You did seem to like being in my arms, and it felt real good for me.” Then he winked at her.
The warmth crept up her neck then spread across her face.Dammit!Ashley hated that her skin flushed whenever she was tense or angry. For some reason, she was letting this half-assed Don Juan rattle her.
“Arrogance is one of your flaws, isn’t it? Why don’t you find another woman who’s willing to coo and fawn all over you? I’m not interested.”
“Those aren’t the signals you’ve been giving me.” He took a step toward her.
An exaggerated sigh slipped through her lips as she shook her head. “You’re unbelievable—and not in a good way.”
Ignoring his loud guffaws, she spun around and crossed the floor to the stage.
