ashleighraine.com » Dusty Dances

Dusty Dances

Jen: This scene we struggled with from the beginning of the rewrites, which probably should’ve been a good sign for us that it wasn’t necessary. This is probably the thirtieth version we wrote of this scene. For those of you who’ve read the new version of Forsaken Talisman, you’ll notice that the bowtie-straightening moment showed up in the book, just in a different scene. It was the one situation in this scene we weren’t willing to part with.

Overall, this scene is a fun character study, with some info-dump back story thrown in for good—bad?–measure.

Lisa: Again, we were having too much fun writing out back story. I’ve always been fascinated with what make a person who he or she is. Too bad it’s not always necessary to move a story forward…especially not at the beginning of the book!

Dusty glanced around the room to make sure no one was watching before reaching below the table and massaging his calf. After a couple hours of nonstop dancing, the damn thing was tied up in ridiculous knots.

“Your feet hurting too?” Mariah settled onto the edge of the chair next to him, body still grooving to the music.

Multicolored lights flashing over the dance floor reflected off the shimmering design on her black dress—knowing Stephan, the sparkle was probably diamonds. The straps fastened around her neck, leaving her arms and shoulders bare, and dipped low in the front, allowing an enticing glimpse of flawless skin and luscious curves. Her hair was pulled up in some fancy twist with random strands curling around her face and neck.

One of her long dancer legs teased through the thigh-high slit when she leaned back in her seat, lifted a foot and rolled her ankle. She scrunched up her nose as she did the same with her other foot. “You know, I used to be able to dance all night in five-inch heels without getting so much as a blister. Then I got pregnant and—bam—my feet have turned into total wusses. I should’ve brought my bunny slippers.”

“You feeling okay? Need a foot massage or anything?” He waggled his eyebrows. “I’m happy to oblige.”

She grinned. “Yes to both questions, but”—then she was laughing and swatting at his hands as he reached for her feet—“but Stephan promised me an all-over massage later tonight. Save your big paws for someone else.”

“You know what they say about the size of a man’s hands…”

“The larger the hand, the smaller the penis?” Mariah winked.

“Gee, thanks.” Dusty slapped a hand against his chest in mock broken-heartedness. “Y’know, Stephan’s hands aren’t so small either.”

Mariah laughed again. “If we keep up this conversation, you’re going to hear a lot more than you probably ever wanted to know about Stephan’s and my happy, active and oh-so-fulfilling sex life. So let’s talk about you instead. Why are you sitting down? I saw you out there, all those women making moves on you.”

He’d received a couple of sexual propositions tonight, complete with keycard slipped into his pocket and room number whispered in his ear. But the last thing he needed was to spend the night with a married woman looking for an affair to flaunt in her soon-to-be ex-husband’s face. Growing up, he’d seen so much adultery—and its effects on everyone around it—that his dick was never going near a woman with a ring on her finger. Or a trust-fund princess with daddy issues like half of the girls here. Once upon a time when he was young and stupid, he discovered the hard way that no sex was worth listening to a rich girl bitch about daddy all night. He might have enough money now to be like daddy, but he would never be like daddy. No way. “Just taking a breather. Gearing up to sweep even more ladies off their feet.”

“Good. You can dance with me then.” Mariah bounced back to standing and held out her hand. “Stephan’s getting ready for the auction, but I’m still hearing music which means my feet are still moving.”

“I thought your feet were hurting?”

“No way am I going to let my rebellious feet ruin my night. I’m engaged, I’m happy, I want to get my groove thang on.”

“Well, then, Ms. Thang…” Taking her into his arms, he swung a laughing Mariah onto the dance floor. Before meeting Stephan, Mariah had been the main attraction at a local gentlemen’s club, Silver Twilight. Although she’d quit her job, she remained a hell of a dancer and it was no hardship being her partner. He was surprised Stephan hadn’t found a way to clone himself so he could still do his MC duties yet never leave Mariah’s side. Not that Dusty minded the opportunity to dance with such a lovely lady.

Within minutes, the music slowed, and couples moved closer together. Mariah settled one petite hand in his, the other on his shoulder, and his palm fell to her waist.

The hand on his shoulder slipped down to his collar. “You’ve been pulling on your bowtie, haven’t you?”

“If I don’t pull on it, it’s gonna decapitate me and that might suck.”

Soft as silk fingers brushed over his throat as she adjusted his bowtie. “There. All better. Now you won’t lose your head tonight.”

He kinked his neck back and forth. “Damn. How’d you fix that?”

“The real question is, how’d you guys survive without a woman around all these years to help take care of you?”

He smiled and dropped a kiss on her forehead. “We weren’t livin’.”

She met his smile with one of her own.

One slow song segued into another as they continued to move around the floor. Dusty saw Ryan swaying with Jill, owner of the local flower shop, and Marlin was dancing with Leslie Winters.

“You see Twyla?” Mariah said, just loud enough for him to hear her over the music. Her gaze searched the crowd as they spun in an easy circle.

He looked through the array of couples for the tiny brunette with sad brown eyes. Earlier, he’d seen Twyla jumping and bumping around the dance floor, grooving with everybody, but not really giving anyone the time of day. Her partners only seemed to be moving props—she couldn’t care less who or what they were, as long as they swung around with her. It had been impossible to miss her as she bounced from mover to shaker. Her bright blue dress had more shimmer and shine than all the many diamonds in this place. But the woman seemed to have disappeared.

He shook his head. “Nope. I don’t see her right now.”

“I wonder where she’s gotten off to.”

“Y’know, first time I ever saw Twyla, she was dancing.”

“Really?” Mariah looked up at him, question and curiosity in her eyes. “I thought it was that night, after our battle with Craze.” Her hand tightened on his shoulder when she said the bastard’s name.

“No. First time was about five years ago now.”

“That was right after she and I moved here. She never told me you two met before.”

He shrugged. “She probably doesn’t remember. I was tipped off to a potentially bad party—a vampire rave. But when I got there, it was just a group of barely legal goths who called themselves vampires, but would probably shit themselves if they ever met a real bloodsucker. It was a rager, though. Twyla and I danced and—” fucked. But maybe Mariah wouldn’t appreciate him talking about her friend that way.

“You two did the horizontal mambo?” Mariah grinned.

“Vertical actually.” In a corner of the warehouse, against the wall, bass throbbing in the background. The music, the sexual energy of the writhing crowd and their bodies did the talking. They barely spoke using words—and neither felt the need to share names. It was a hell of a lot better way to spend a night than slaying vamps.

Mariah laughed. “Sounds like Twyla.” A shadow passed through her eyes and she worried her bottom lip between her teeth.

They both got quiet for a few moments, lost in thought. Dusty had a feeling they were both thinking the same thing. That girl from five years ago was the old, free-spirited Twyla. The Twyla who loved life and lived it to the fullest. Whatever the Dread Lords had done to her three months back had changed her. Something inside of her had died.

“I think I’ll see if I can find her,” Mariah said. “I haven’t had a chance to talk with her tonight. It’s almost like she’s avoiding me.” She frowned, then squeezed his hand. “Thanks for keeping me company.”

“The pleasure was mine.” As he made his way off the dance floor, a familiar beauty stepped into his vision. He let out a low whistle of appreciation. “Damn, girl. You look… Wow. Just, wow.”

Ana’s face pinked at the compliment. “Thank you. You’re looking pretty damn good yourself. So, sexy man, can I have this dance?”

“How could I say no?” He took her in his arms and swept her into the crush of couples. “Did you just get here?” He swallowed his surprise at how different she looked all dolled up. She was wearing a simple yet elegant gown in cream and lace. Her brilliant red hair was left down around her shoulders. The little girl he’d always thought of as a sister had grown up to be an amazing woman.

“I’ve been here for awhile, just hanging out in the shadows watching everybody.” She grinned up at him. “Can’t seem to let that side of me go. Jake and I will be leaving again after this dance. We’re doing another patrol round. It was quiet tonight, but no need to take any chances.”

“So, what’s up with you and Jake?”

Ana lifted an eyebrow in question. “What’s up? What do you mean?”

“I mean, you guys are always hanging out together, patrolling together, eating lunch together. You two hookin’ up or something?”

Ana’s green eyes widened in surprise. “Oh heck no. Jake and I…” She laughed, a heartfelt sound he hadn’t heard since they were teenagers. “I love him dearly, but he’s like an older, really annoying brother.”

“Okay, so not Jake. Anyone else I should be aware of? Someone I might need to smack around if he don’t treat you right?”

If he hadn’t been looking at her face, he would’ve missed the quick flash of grief that filled her eyes. She dropped her gaze, then, without missing a beat, lifted her head again, all trace of heartache erased from her expression. “Although the thought is sweet, there’s no need to beat anyone up on my behalf. There’s no one.”

So she didn’t want to talk about it. That was something he could appreciate. Sometimes the easiest cure for a broken heart was solitude and a bottle of booze…and the support of friends, even when you don’t think you need or want it. He tucked a hand beneath her chin. “Then the men of this world are blind and stupid.”

Her lips quirked. “No comment.” The song concluded, and Ana wrapped her arms around his neck and squeezed him tight. “Thanks for the dance, and the conversation. Time to get into some leather and go patrolling.”

Dusty lifted her hand and kissed it. “Thank you for making me look good.” He winked at her before she walked away.

Marlin approached Ana, but Dusty couldn’t hear what either of them said. Ana looked annoyed and frustrated…and even hurt. She shrugged Marlin off and kept walking. He crossed his arms over his chest and watched her leave.

Huh. Maybe Dusty needed to bust out the brass knuckles after all.