Page 42 of Beast

Grady went to the formal dining room, and started pushing the table and chairs to the walls.

“Wh-what are you doing?”

He didn’t answer.

My mind was still trying to process that this gruff man, the one who barely wanted to talk to me a few days ago, was the same one who would buy me such a thoughtful gift. I was so overwhelmed that it took me a few minutes to realize what he was doing.

He was making me a ballroom.

“Let me see you dance.”

“I—I don’t have any music.”

“Name a song.”

I contemplating picking a cool song to impress him but just decided to go with a classic rumba. “‘I’m Not Giving You Up’ by Gloria Estefan.”

He fiddled on his phone and then plugged it into a speaker.

Grady placed a lone chair in the corner of the room. “Dance for me.”

Once the first note of the haunting rumba played, I knew I was back like I’d never skipped a day. That was the universal truth for dancers. No matter what the reason was you quit, no matter how many times you swore you would never return, one step onto that dance floor and your soul became whole again.

My body remembered every rhythmic rumba beat, my toes recalled every jive flick, and my arms reminisced every time I placed them in a paso doble battle pose. My gut wrenched—I’d had no clue how much I’d missed this part of my life.

But my reclaimed joy terrified me. One tap of my toes on the sprung hardwood floor, and I wanted to lose myself in the music.

My toes traced the floor during the rumba walks, my core settled into the beat. I danced as much for Grady as I did for myself.

Grady focused on me, his gaze steady, never looking away. Over the years I’d danced for so many people, in many shows and competitions, but I never had danced solely for the eyes of another man. I danced toward him, shimmied my hips near his face, teasing him gently. I wasn’t a stripper, this wasn’t a lap dance, but the energy between us was passionate. I yearned for him to stand up, take me on the floor, expose his secrets to me.

I turned away from him, but his strong arms pulled me back. He pushed me onto his lap, grinding me down on his hard cock. His hand pulled my hair, pressing me into his lips. I kissed him back, high off the urgency, his beard tickling my skin. His lips were powerful yet soft, just like him. All my misgivings about getting close to him were fading, as I was melting into him. Our kiss was equal parts illicit and comforting. But the intensity of my emotions spooked me—I pushed him off of me, tears welling in my eyes.

As the song ended, emptiness filled me. My body chilled, one taste of my obsession with the beat, and I’d be drowning in a sea of rhinestones before I could help myself. Like an addict in recovery, I feared I’d be unable to quit after one dance.

And I knew I’d be unable to quit Grady after our time together was over.

25

Grady

I loved watching Isa dance, the way her body swayed with the music, as if she was dancing just for me.

But I needed a change of scenery.

As much as I loved the lake house, the place was a bit too pretentious for me. I wanted to be out in the wilderness, camping in nature. Luckily Isa was game, so the next day after lunch we drove to a local campground that had small cabins. It was beautiful, so rustic, so removed from the world. This place was simple, humble, and more my style. It reminded me of vacationing in the Smoky Mountains in Tennessee. The cabin we rented here was unfortunately named “The Honeymoon Cabin.” It was constructed with knotty pine, contained a simple stove, refrigerator, and a queen bed made with a rustic quilt. Outside on the pine needle-covered ground were a barbecue, picnic table, and campfire pit.

We checked in and relaxed in the cabin for a bit. I’d planned to grill some burgers, down a few beers, and then spend all night fucking Isa.

But she had other plans.

“Wow, it’s gorgeous up here, Grady. Let’s go on a walk around the campsite.”

I hesitated. It was seventeen hundred. A gorgeous, late summer sunset.

I suddenly had a strong urge to remain in the cabin. But I chose not to listen to my gut. I could do this.

“Sure.”