Paranormal Attractions Sneak Peeks!
Today's Sneak Peek is at The Beckoning of Beguiling Things
by Calinda B
My best
friend Marta shoos me with her hand. “Now off you go. Meander slowly to that
brochure display over there. Easy peasy. Look like you own the Bellagio. Work
your hips. Stand tall. Go!”
Taking a
deep breath, I do as she instructs. I saunter, letting my hips sway with each
step. Inside, my gut tightens and I’m as nervous as a cat in a cage. I try to
keep my anxiety contained and appear calm and cool. When I reach the brochures,
I let my fingers graze the shiny paper, fingering an image of the show we’d
seen last night.
“I’ll be
happy to take you,” a rich, male voice purrs in my ear.
My head
whips around to meet blue eyes, dark hair, honey-colored skin, strong jaw and
sculpted muscles, dressed in casual slacks and a sleeveless t-shirt that clings
to him like it had been painted onto his skin. “You’re one of the dancers in Thunder and Lightning!” I exclaim.
“Guilty as
charged,” he says in his thick Australian accent, appraising me as if I’m
succulent, tasty prey. His eyes meander slowly up and down my length, a small
smile playing at the corners of his mouth as he takes in my appearance. “And
you’re rather breathtaking.”
I direct my
attention at the floor.
“I’m headed
to rehearse. Want to watch?” he says.
“Um,” I
manage to say, craning my head to search for Marta. “I’m with my girls over
there.”
Her eyes are
wide as she gives me a thumbs-up. Jill and Lia shake their heads
disapprovingly.
“Bring ‘em.
You can all watch. I’d like to be watching you.”
He extends his hand. “I’m Chris, by the way.”
I extend my
arm, letting him envelop my small hand in his large, warm one. “Marissa,” I
say, allowing my gaze to flick up at him. “Marissa Engles.”
“Enchanted.”
He kisses the back of my hand, causing a million tiny flutters to stir in my
belly. He tugs a business card from his pants pocket, reaches around me to pick
up a pen from the counter, letting me feel the heat emanating from his body. He
scribbles down an address and hands it to me. “We start in twenty.”
“Chris, get
your ass over here,” another male calls. “We’re going to be late.”
Chris waves
his hand dismissively, then seeks my eyes with his. “So. Will you come watch me
practice my moves?”
“If my gals
are in, I’m in,” I say, feigning boldness. Inside, a steamy, quivering puddle
forms, consisting of my dwindling courage and rapidly fading willpower,
replaced, instead by fervent desire.
“Chris!
Let’s go!”
Chris
reaches down to grasp my hand once more. His soft, warm lips press to my skin
as he regards me intently. “I’m counting on you watching me. I need someone to
dance for.”
“I’ll be
there,” I breathe. Like he doesn’t have a
million fans. He lets me go and jogs toward the guy calling him, his
muscles rippling, while I weeble-wobble back to the trio of women waiting for
me.
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