Lady Sings the Blues
? 2008 Mallery Malone
A Red-Hot Summer story.
Alina Gabriel has hit on the perfect formula to make her club, The Scarlet Lady, the hot spot in Atlanta’s night life. Men flock to see her alter ego, retired exotic dancer Miss Scarlet; and women line up to see Joshua Hanover and his blues band steam up the stage.
Alina herself isn’t immune to the blind guitarist’s sensual songs and musical dexterity, but she refuses to be just another notch in his groupie belt.
That is, until Joshua debuts a new song, “Red-Letter Woman”, to entice Miss Scarlet to dance. The song and dance leave them both hot and bothered, and when Alina retreats to her office for personal relief, Joshua joins her and offers to strum her desire.
But Joshua wants more than a one-night stand. He’s pushing for an encore, and Alina wonders if it’s her he’s after—or her exotic persona.
Warning: This title contains sensuous solos, decadent duets, dirty dancing, and a man who’s really good with his hands.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Lady Sings the Blues: Damn. He had to issue a challenge. She never backed down. Ever. It was her stubbornness as much as her business aptitude that made The Scarlet Lady a success. And her love life a mess.
The only other thing she couldn’t seem to resist besides a challenge was Joshua’s voice and the mesmerizing play of his fingers.
As if reading her thoughts, he stretched out a hand to her and gave her a smile as smooth as jazz. “Come here,” he repeated. Only this time, his voice was soft, full of promise and seduction and sin. Just as it was when he sang.
She slid both feet to the floor and stood. Keeping her eyes on his face, she moved around the corner of her desk until she stood in front of him.
“Sit on the edge of your desk,” he ordered.
She raised her eyebrow at the tone, not that he noticed, then sat. “Well?”
He shifted his chair forward, pushing her thighs apart. “Put your feet here,” he requested, patting the sloped armrests of his chair.
Alina complied, mesmerized by that voice, the promise of his fingers. The balls of her feet balanced on the edge of each armrest as her thighs fell open for him. She briefly wondered how long she could keep her balance like that, then decided she’d hold the position for as long as it took.
Pure challenge filled his grin. “Why don’t you lean back? You’ll still be able to see what you need to see.”
She snorted in response and was rewarded with a low chuckle. “I promise, I won’t let you miss any of the show.”
She didn’t know what she expected him to do next. Certainly not make her wait. She watched his hand, strong, long-fingered, sweep over her boot. From the pointed tip to the stiletto heel, back up over the laces to her knee.
“I’ve become very tactile,” he told her as his hands skimmed up her knees. “This is the way I see.”
She had to swallow before she could speak. “All right, you’re free to look all you want.”
His fingers stroked over her thighs. “Just look?”
Little electric pulses zinged through her, heightening her need for him. “God, I hope not.”
“Good.” His hands moved over her skirt. “Wow, that is a blink of a skirt, isn’t it? No wonder those guys were screaming at the foot of the stage.”
“You had your share of screaming fans,” she felt compelled to remind him. “I think a few of them lost their panties.”
His fingers dipped between her thighs. “So did you.”
Alina’s heart triple-beat as his thumb brushed over her pussy. Desire ramped up another notch as she whispered his name. The whisper became a gasp of protest as he
continued “looking” at her, rising from the chair as his palms skimmed up the front of her Chinese brocade corset.
“May I?” he asked, his fingers hovering over the hooks running down the front.
“Please.”
He took his time unhooking the busk, working his way from top to bottom. She took a deep breath as he eased the corset away from her breasts, then lost it again as he lowered his head to brush his lips across her belly button.
She thrust her fingers into the lush thickness of his hair, closing her eyes as his lips roamed up her belly to her breastbone, leaving fire in his wake. So focused was she on his lips that she gasped with surprise when he cupped her breasts.
“Joshua.” Her head lolled back as the string-roughened pads of his fingers stroked over her already hard nipples, tightening them further. His mouth warmed her skin as his lips traced her throat, her chin, her cheek.
Finally, oh God, finally his right hand slid down her belly to stroke her clit. “Kiss me, Alina,” he demanded. “Kiss me like you did onstage.”
She curved an arm around his neck and plastered her mouth to his, kissing him with everything she had. She’d been on a slow burn and he’d just thrown kerosene on the fire.