Dance With Me (With Me in Seattle #12)(34)

Does anyone know who the tall drink of water is? I don’t recognize him. Is he famous?

And the comments . . .

He’s not famous. I did a Google image search, and it looks like he’s a cop in Seattle.

Love his salt and pepper hair!

What does Starla want to do with an old dude? She’s way too good for that. Hell, I’d fuck her.

In your dreams, asshole.

Maybe he’s her bodyguard?

Oh, that could be.

“What are you scowling at?” Levi asks as he walks into the bedroom, naked as the day he was born. My eyes feast on him, taking in lean muscle and smooth, tan skin. He’s hot as hell, and anyone who thinks differently can bite me.

“This turned into a social media mess,” I reply. “I’m surprised the publicity team hasn’t started texting me yet.”

“It can’t be that big of a deal,” he says as he slips on a clean pair of boxer briefs. “That chick was out of line.”

“Photos and videos spin things,” I mutter. “And it pisses me off that they’ve dragged you into this.”

I whip the covers off and reach for my clothes, yanking them on in jerking motions.

I’m so damn pissed.

And who the hell am I to think that I can have any kind of normal relationship, with Levi or anyone else? This will always happen. The media and fans will twist it to be something ugly.

“Starla.”

“I think maybe I should go home. I’ll call an Uber.”

“Hold on.”

“No, it’s better this way.” I shake my head as I slip my feet into my shoes. “It’s just not going to work out between us, Levi, and I was silly to think that it might. It’s not fair to do this to either of us. To open us up to gossip and scrutiny. You didn’t ask for this.”

“Stop moving.”

His voice is hard, catching my attention, and my gaze swings to his. He’s pissed off. His jaw is clenched, his hands balled into fists.

“What the fuck, Starla? I’m not a child. I’m capable of making my own life choices, and if being in a relationship with a ridiculously famous woman is one of those choices, well, it’s mine to make.”

“I just think—”

“I said stop,” he snaps, and I blink at him in surprise. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe I shouldn’t want to be with you, but it has nothing to do with what strangers are saying about us on platforms I don’t give a rat’s ass about, and everything to do with the fact that you suddenly seem to think I’m a child that needs protecting. I’m not a child.”

“I know you’re not.”

“The other night, after one of the worst days I’ve had on the force, you sought me out and comforted me. You said there would be rough days, and you’re right. Well, same goes, sweetheart. That’s just life.”

He walks to me. Slowly. Deliberately.

“Now, we’re going to get you back out of all these clothes. But the first thing you need to take off is your insecurities. If we’re in this together, we’re in it. Together. Whether I’ve had a rough day at work, or you have. Or anything else that comes up.”

I stare up at him in wonder as he peels my clothes off, and when I’m standing naked before him—both physically and emotionally—he picks me up and takes me to the bed, laying me down gently on the soft linens.

“You’re amazing,” he whispers, kissing over my shoulders and up my neck to my lips. “Stunning. Smart. Kind.”

“I’m not always kind.”

“Liar.” He bites my lip, then kisses my chin and works his way down to one breast. “You’re kind and sweet. And when it’s just you and me, it doesn’t matter if ten million people know your face or want to know about your life.”

“I have twenty-five million followers,” I say, sassing him.

He cocks a brow. “None of them are here. It’s just you and me.”

His hand blazes a trail down my belly to my core.

“You don’t belong to them.” He slips two fingers inside me, sending my hips up off the bed. “You belong to me.”

My eyes find his as his fingers work me over, and his lips latch around a nipple.

“Who gives a shit what anyone else thinks?” he says when he lets go of my flesh with a loud pop.

“I don’t like them saying horrible things about you.”

I gasp as he presses the pad of his thumb against my clit.

“They can’t hurt me.” He watches me with hot brown eyes as I climb higher and higher, riding the delicious wave of an impending orgasm.

But before I get there, Levi reaches for a condom, slides it on, and sinks inside me until he’s buried balls-deep. And then he stops. We’re both gasping for breath, staring at each other intently.

“They can’t hurt me. You’re mine, Starla. You’ve been mine for a long time. Maybe forever. It just took me more than forty years to find you.”

Tears spring to my eyes. My God, where did this amazing man come from?

“So all we have to worry about is what’s happening right here, between us. Fuck the rest of them.”

I press on his shoulder, and he rolls, switching our position. I’m riding him now and grinding down on him with every stroke, sending electricity through every nerve ending of my body. Being with Levi is so different from being with anyone else.