Velvet and Lace (5 page)

The gravel crunched underneath their feet as they walked toward the pumping baseline of the speakers inside. It was a country bar, and Daphne was excited to dance. She had been to many clubs in the city and enjoyed the grinding of hip-hop, but nothing compared to a good two-step partner or a room full of people doing the same line dance and having fun.

The bouncer, a guy Daphne vaguely recognized from high school, checked their ID’s and waived them inside. Anna was right. It looked completely different on the inside. The floor was wood everywhere instead of the old dingy carpet. The bar was bigger, and cleaner. But what caught her attention was the much larger dance floor full of people two-stepping to Brooks & Dunn.

A few heads tuned their way and Daphne figured she would have plenty of partners. She smiled and followed Anna to the bar. They had to talk in each other’s ears, but it didn't matter much.  Anna declared she was buying the first round and ordered two shots of tequila.

After they downed the shots, they were each asked to dance and Daphne gladly accepted. She was looking forward to enjoying her night out.

****

Trent’s skin prickled and he turned around. He cursed under his breath as he watched Anna walk in the front door, followed by Daphne. Not just Daphne, but a scantily clad, gorgeous Daphne. He was at the far end of the bar, in the back corner with a perfect view of most of the bar.

Trent and his crew came by for a few drinks after a long day of working on Daphne’s shop. He was hoping for a relaxing evening, but he felt his whole body tense as he watched her sashay to the dance floor, her hand wrapped around the bicep of a guy he didn’t know. He clenched his fist around his beer and watched as she stepped in to the man’s arms.

Daphne was wearing a pair of black cowboy boots with a teal in-laid swirl design. Her legs were long and tan and bare and she had one of the shortest pair of shorts he had ever seen. They were dark blue with frayed edges. Her shirt was a dark, plaid blue shirt that had quarters sleeve and was tied underneath her breasts. Underneath that she had on white tank top of some sort. But what snagged his attention and every other mans, was that it was apparent she had no bra on, but her breasts were still high and threatening to spill out over the rim of the white top.

Trent adjusted himself in his jeans and cursed himself for his reaction to her. He had been thinking about her ever since she told him she was opening a damn sex toy shop. She was nothing like the girl he knew from high school. He could see the same smile and the same twinkle in her eyes, but he was amazed at the incredible woman she had become.

He had loved when she tried to pretend she didn’t know him at the reunion. He could tell she recognized him by the stiffness in her body when she turned around, but he wanted to go with it for a while. And then she mentioned the damn magazine. He wasn’t ashamed to admit it, he had seen her in one of those half-nude magazines, smiling for the camera with that come–fuck–me smile. Her breasts had been spectacular, and it was hard not to look at her and see them beneath her clothing now.

He lifted his beer to his lips and watched as her partner led her in an oval pattern around the dance floor. He must have said something clever because she threw her head back and laughed. That action caused her hair to spill down her back in luxurious blonde waves.

He noticed it looked thicker tonight. She must have done something to it. What it really made him think of was just–fucked sex hair, like a man had run his hands through it and held on for dear life.

He cursed under his breath and finished his beer. He signaled to the waitress walking around that he wanted another, and looked over at his buddies. Carson, his business partner, was sipping his beer slowly watching the bar without really lingering on anyone in particular. Damian and Logan were the two brothers that owned The Lady Luck and had hired him to do the renovation on the bar. They had been close friends since. Owen was also on his crew. But he was fairly new. Owen’s eyes were also on Daphne.

Hell, if he was going to be honest with himself most of the male eyes in the bar were on Daphne. She moved with fluidity and grace, but more than that, she was a damn good dancer who knew how to move her body and wasn’t ashamed of it.

The waitress brought over his new beer and he downed most of it in several long pulls. When he set it down it thumped on the table. A few heads turned to look at him but no one said anything. Damian and Logan had gotten up to check and make sure everything was running smoothly and it was just him and part of his crew.

Owen leaned forward on his tanned arms, trying to get a better look at Daphne through the crowd. A black lock of hair fell into his eyes at the motion. “Who the hell is that?”

Trent smirked as Owen’s eyes bugged slightly. “That my friends, is our current boss and her name is Daphne Brooks. She used to go to school here, but back then her name was Margaret. But let's keep that part to ourselves, shall we?” Trent tried not to draw too much attention to their conversation. Everyone would eventually figure out Daphne’s past, if they hadn’t already. The way gossip spread around this town was ridiculous. But he didn’t want to be the cause of outing her. He trusted his crew to keep it quiet, since they were also his closest friends.

Carson looked over curious. “Wait you mean that is Faggy Maggie?” He had gone to school with them, and had been on the football team with Trent. However, he had never fit in with the crowd Trent hung out with, since he hadn't come from the same financial background. Not that that mattered to Trent, but it had mattered to the group. It was just another thing Trent regretted from high school. However. he and Carson had worked past that a long time ago and he usually appreciated his company and down to earth ways, but his blood boiled at the nickname.

“Don’t call her that.” Trent took another sip of his beer, angry with himself more than he was angry with Carson. But of course Carson knew that. Hell, he knew more about Trent’s past than anyone else did. When his buddy winked, he realized it had just been to rile him. He flipped him off.

Owen was oblivious to everything that wasn’t Daphne’s ass. He turned to look at Trent with a shit-eating grin on his face. “I don’t care who the hell she was. I just want to know if she’ll dance with me.” Before Trent could say something completely stupid, like telling his buddy to keep his paws off, when he had no claim over Daphne.  Owen slid out of the booth and claimed Daphne’s next dance.

Carson looked over at him and just stared.

“What?” Trent shifted in his seat.

Carson smirked. “Why don’t you just go and ask her to dance?”

“I don’t want too. Is that not a good enough reason?” Trent fiddled with the label on his beer.

“No it’s not. Usually you’ve danced with half of the bar by now. But you haven’t gotten out of the booth since she got here. If you go dance it might ease that hardon you have for her.” Carson took a sip of his own beer and Trent tried to shift himself in his jeans again.

He knew his friend was trying to help but that didn’t mean he wanted anyone to see the actual hardon he had for Daphne’s barely concealed breasts and ass cheeks that kept playing peek-a-boo as she moved around the floor. When he didn’t reply, Carson just shook his head.

Owen danced two dances with her and then took her a drink. By the time she ended up in someone else’s arms, Trent had downed two more beers. Daphne’s skin now had a fine sheen of sweat and the guy who was currently dancing with her had his hand inching closer and closer to her butt. When his palm landed on the pert cheek, Trent slid effortlessly out of the booth.

By the time Trent reached the dance floor, the song had switched and another man was approaching her. “Chrome” by Trace Adkins began playing over the speakers and Trent’s lips twitched. Daphne was turned away from him so she never noticed his approach. Before someone else could grab her, he placed his hand on her shoulder.

When she turned to face him, her eyes widened in surprise. She opened her mouth to say something, but he slipped his hand around her waist and brought her arms up. Her right hand gripped in his left, and her left hand draped around his shoulder. The baseline was kicking up and Trent easily slipped into the rhythm of an easy two-step. She easily melted against his body, fluidly moving hers with his.

Daphne curled her fingers tighter around his shoulder. “Why Mr. Bradshaw I didn’t know you could dance. Well dance like this, anyway.”

Trent slid his hand a little lower on her waist, enjoying the feel of her curves in his hands. “Ms. Brooks, you haven’t seen anything yet.”

As he came around the corner, he led her through a series of turns and twist and was delighted as she followed his every lead, making her body an extension of his. When he spun her back around, he placed her body next to his so that their hands were in a figure eight and she was tucked next to his side. She surprised him even more by staying completely in-step with him and meshing her body flush up against the side of his.

His cock stiffened more in his jeans. She smelled like expensive perfume and sweat. The smile on her face was teasing and the laughter in her eyes provided a challenge. When the chorus came up he caught her mouthing the words and when he spun her back to face her, he sang a long in her ear, which brought another smile to her gorgeous, glossy lips.

He knew she would probably feel his erection against her stomach but he wasn’t sure he cared. He was too caught up in her spell to care about anything but the way she felt in his arms. He also could appreciate the view of her breasts much better at this angle and he wasn’t ashamed of looking. She truly was gorgeous.

“Liking the view?” Her voice caught him off guard. She was smiling but the look in her eyes had shifted. She looked wary.

“I don’t like the view. I love the view.” He pulled her closer, and drew her in for a tight turn. She rolled her eyes but she didn’t pull away from his hold. When the last sounds of the song faded away, Daphne started to slip through his arms, but he held on.

“I’m not done dancing with you yet.” He placed both hands on her waist, enjoying the curves. He never understood the fad of stick-thin women. Daphne was trim, but she still had shape. And he definitely wanted those curves plastered against him.

****

Daphne was having a hard time not letting her body react to Trent’s. She knew that she wouldn’t be able to hold off for much longer. With Trent’s hands resting low on her hips, the heat of his hands was sending shivers straight up to her nipples. She tried to pull away again.

“Trent, you are definitely a good dancer, but I think we should keep our relationship purely business.” She hoped to play to his logical side. Unfortunately the stiff cock pressing into her wasn’t very logical. Actually, it was making it very hard for her to feel logical herself.

She was remembering the feel of his firm lips pressed against hers, and trying to imagine how they would feel on other places on her body. No matter how short lived their one and only kiss in high school had been, and how mortifying it had been later, she could never forget the feel of his lips.

Trent's voice broke through the fog. “Daphne, you there?” She snapped her eyes back to his.

“Sorry,” she slowly whispered back. They were standing in the middle of the dance floor, and another song had started. “Strawberry Wine” by Deana Carter was coming strong through the speakers. Most couples gathered around them in the middle of the dance floor, like a high school dance, slowly rocking together.

“Daphne, one more dance. I just might surprise you.” When he winked at her and tilted his lips up in a half smile, she was lost. She nodded and wrapped her arms around his neck, thinking it was going to be an easy slow dance.

When his hands grasped hers and moved her arms into a traditional frame, she looked up at him in curiosity. Then when his feet began to lead her into a Waltz, she was sure her eyebrows lifted as far as they could possibly go. Soon, however, she was drawn into the magic of the dance. Everyone had gathered into a tight circle to give them as much room as possible.

It was fluid and graceful as he led her around the dance floor. They executed turns, stops and starts, as if they had been dancing together all of their life. They were a few inches apart but Daphne could feel the tension and heat radiating between their two bodies. The room melted away under Trent’s piecing gaze.

Before, his eyes had been watching the way her body moved, which she had enjoyed. This time, he was watching her expression. It seemed that he was trying to figure out her emotions and that made her nervous.  She closed her eyes and trusted him to lead her.

When the song finished, Daphne slowly opened her eyes. Trent was staring at her intently, as he brought his forehead down to hers. She thought he was going to kiss her when a loud catcall was shouted out. Daphne jerked away and looked in shock at the bar. Everyone had stopped what they were doing to watch them dance. She stole one more glance at Trent, and then rushed away to find Anna. The DJ played another song and the ruckus of the bar returned.

Daphne quickly sought her friend in the crowd. Once she had found Anna, she grabbed her arm, before pulling her out of the bar. She needed to get away from Trent as soon as possible. Their boots crunched on the gravel of the empty parking lot. As soon as they were in the car, Anna let into her.