Chapter 15 #2
I couldn’t help but think of Bradley. I’d let go of what we’d had.
My hand was free of the weight that had been holding me down, pulling me under the waves of self-doubt and loathing.
My palm was free to grasp something new, something that could pull me higher than I ever dreamt I could go—past the clouds and into the stars.
Strong hands gripped my waist. I gasped as they hauled me back against a firm torso, and a head bent toward mine to whisper in my ear. “Having fun? You seem to have forgotten about me.”
I released a shaky breath and tried looking over my shoulder at Dante. “Jealous?”
“Incredibly.”
Zagan appeared by Iyla’s side and immediately pulled her into his arms, the two becoming lost to the world while ensnared in the other’s embrace.
The adoration and affection that passed between them was instantaneous, and I realized with a flutter of my heart that that’s what I wanted.
Love like that. They clearly had a strong bond.
So surely I could find that kind of happiness, too, even if I was a fat elephant or hippo or pig.
Being here with Dante and his circle of friends served as a stark reminder of why leaving Bradley was the right decision.
We’d never had what Zagan and Iyla clearly did, and I doubted he and I ever would.
The people Bradley surrounded himself with tore me down while these people tried to lift me up, despite only being recent acquaintances.
The contrast in the two experiences was reeling.
“Dance with me?” Dante asked.
The question had my gaze bouncing like ping pong balls between the many people on the dance floor.
The men and women here moved without doubts or insecurities, and while Iyla’s words had brought me some comfort, they hadn’t magically made me feel at ease about dancing in front of so many people.
I didn’t know how to get lost in the music like the people around me.
I didn’t know how to let go of my inhibitions.
Even if it was only my imagination, I felt Courtney’s and John’s eyes on me from somewhere in the club, judging and making fun of me for attempting to be confident or sexy.
I turned in Dante’s arms to look up at him. I wasn’t sure what he saw on my face, but he quickly looked around before grabbing my hand and tipping his head back in the direction of the VIP section. “Come on.”
We returned to the upstairs VIP area. It was away from the masses, offering privacy and a sense of ease. Coldin and Xander were no longer there, so I assumed they’d gone down to find dance partners.
“How about dancing here?” Dante offered with a gesture around us.
As if to provide me more courage, he grabbed my hands and held them up above us while he crowded in close and moved to the beat of the music.
While the anxiety about dancing in front of a crowd or lurking enemies was gone, I couldn’t deny that I was still hesitant about dancing with Dante for three glaring reasons.
My attraction to Dante, the reminder of my level, and my lingering sense of loyalty to Bradley.
Dante was hot. He was everyone’s wet dream with his perfectly trimmed facial hair, dark eyes set against flawless skin, piercings that begged to be licked, and muscles that even ancient gods would be envious of.
I wouldn’t be human if I wasn’t attracted to him, but with that draw to him came a sense of guilt and embarrassment.
Even though I was now single, I couldn’t shake the faithful girlfriend role I’d lived in for eight years.
I wanted to dance with Dante, but doing so felt wrong.
Not only did it feel like I was doing something bad by dancing with him in such a close and private space, but there was a gnawing worry about looking like a fool in front of him.
Who was I to dance with someone like him?
I wasn’t a dancer by any means. I had no hope of moving my body the way Dante was or how the girls downstairs did.
But not trying when Dante clearly wanted to would also make me look ridiculous.
It was a double-edged sword—dance and look dumb; don’t dance and look like a killjoy.
I swallowed hard and bounced lightly on my feet. I tried to mirror Dante’s movements as I plastered on my signature smile that I used at work, with Bradley, or in front of those who tried to knock me down—those whose voices filled my head now with cackles and sneers.
He’s way out of your league.
No one wants to see a cow shaking their fat ass.
If you try to act sexy, he’ll realize you’re just an embarrassment.
Each idea had been planted by my own struggles with self-love and worth, but the years of bullying and nonexistent validation from my own boyfriend had added fertilizer and water. The hatred for myself was rooted so deep, I didn’t know how to get rid of the negative feelings.
“Who are you dancing with right now?”
The abrupt question had me freezing and raising a brow. “You.”
“Right,” Dante nodded, ceasing his own dancing. “You’re dancing with me. So whose voice are you listening to that has you so hesitant to let go and do just that?”
My eyes widened, and the smile I’d forced slowly fell. I hadn’t expected Dante to pick up on the turbulent thoughts bouncing around my head, but as usual, he somehow saw through the lies I plastered on.
I nibbled my lip and ducked my head as shame filled my chest with its heaviness. “Sorry,” I mumbled as I looked at my lightly tapping feet. “I’m still trying to convince myself that dancing with you is okay. I’m not cheating by being here with you, because I’m single.”
“Damn straight you are. You’re free to dance with whoever you want, however you want. Bradley doesn’t deserve to hold this sway over you, so look at me.”
I held my breath and dared a peek at Dante. The strength in his calm eyes made my heart begin to pound.
“Dance with me, Star,” he purred softly as his grip moved from my hands to my hips. He pulled me a little closer. “Let me make you forget his voice.”
The temptation to give in was there. The whispered allure of relenting to Dante made shivers break out on my skin. His ability to make me forget the bad nearly made me cave. But the monsters in my head fought with our last fear until I found myself admitting quietly, “I’m not good enough.”
I wasn’t good enough to dance with the Dante Braxton, lead guitarist and sex icon of Sinners Do It Better.
I wasn’t good enough to be friends with someone loved by billions.
I wasn’t good enough.
The admission made heat rise to my cheeks, and I quickly looked away to ramble, “I mean, I’m not a dancer. I have no idea what to do, and I’m sure you’ve danced with people far better and—”
I gasped softly as Dante gripped my chin between his thumb and forefinger. He raised my head until our gazes locked, and he finally pressed his body right into mine.
“Star,” he interrupted without a hint of aggravation over my worries.
“There’s not a damn thing you could do right now to turn me off.
Not worthy? You need to stop looking at yourself in the way Bradley painted you.
Instead, see yourself as I do. Sexy. Perfection.
Worthy. Don’t be afraid of what we could do.
I’m not Bradley. You aren’t going to be shamed or belittled for anything you do when with me. ”
The assurance with which he spoke had me softening and my walls cracking. I was already so worn down from the week, not to mention from the extra fresh blow of running into Courtney and John.
My defenses were practically decimated, so I found myself wanting to believe him. I wanted to believe that I was sexy and worthy of acceptance. God knew I’d never felt that way before. But Dante made those things seem real and possible.
So with my hooded eyes locked on his and chin still gripped between his fingers, I wrapped my arms around his neck and began to move. The subtle lift at the corner of his mouth was wicked, and he released my chin to grab my waist and push his body against and with mine.
Our dance was slow, soft, and searching at first. I couldn’t turn my nerves off like a switch, but the hungry gleam in Dante’s eyes paired with the way he continued to grind against me without any sign of disgust emboldened me.
I’d roll my torso against his or swivel my hips to press us into each other, and with each touch of his body, my limbs loosened.
My mind cleared of the worries. Finally, I let go and danced.
I moved without hesitating, and Dante matched me as “No Hands” filled the club’s loud speakers.
Dante turned me around in his arms and grinded into me to the beat of the song while dragging his hands up the full curves of my hips and onto my sides.
My breath hitched, and my eyes fluttered closed.
Butterflies broke free beneath my skin everywhere he touched.
The feeling was new, yet I was already addicted.
I longed for that sweet buzz rushing through my veins and settling between my thighs.
I longed to get closer to the man at my back.
Time became lost. I didn’t know how long Dante and I danced in our own little world. I’d lost count of the songs playing overhead. My body had heated to dangerous levels, and my heart raced as I pressed my chest into Dante’s yet again.
He grinned down at me and slid his hands across my lower back to hold me close. “Want to grab another drink?”
I was sad to separate from him, having grown comfortable in his hold, but my throat rejoiced at the idea of getting a beverage. “Yes, please!”