Loving Her Crazy (Crazy Love) Page 8

  He slowly leaned forward, letting his gaze roam over her from head to toe. When he met her eyes again, he made sure she knew just how much he liked what he saw.

  “Oh, I’m not shy, Cookie. I just want to watch you.”

  Chapter Eight

  Iris sucked in a breath, her mouth going dry with the sucker punch of desire that hit her straight in the gut. Okay. He wanted to watch? She’d give him something to watch. And then, hopefully, he’d return the favor.

  Iris headed up to the stage, giving her walk a little extra swagger in case Nash was paying attention. She glanced back over her shoulder once she reached the guy running the karaoke stuff. Oh yeah. He was paying attention.

  Nash had leaned back in his chair, stretching his long legs out in front of him, his eyes glued to her like he was going blind and she was the only spot of light in the room. Her stomach did a few somersaults and threw in a pirouette, just for fun. She took a deep breath and tried to calm down. She never got nervous up onstage. With him watching, though, a fine tremor ran through her body. She didn’t just want to do a good job so she could impress him. She wanted to blow him out of the water and make him pant for more.

  The perfect song choice popped into her head, and she grinned down at Nash before turning to tell Karaoke Man what to cue up.

  She kept her gaze fixed on Nash as “Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy” started with its distinctive opening bar. He threw his head back and laughed, then leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, to watch her.

  She gave it all she had, belting out the words and shaking her ass like she was auditioning for the Rockettes. His gaze burned into her the whole time. When she sang the titular line about riding the cowboy, he bit his lip, his gaze roaming up and down her body. Her breath caught in her throat, and she nearly missed the next line. She’d never had such a sensual look aimed in her direction before. The effect staggered her, energized her. Made the image of riding her very own cowboy even more intense.

  By the time the last note died away, the crowd was cheering for her. She gave them a little bow, though she had eyes only for Nash. He stood and sauntered to the stage. As she passed him, he reached out and pulled her to him, dipping to whisper in her ear.

  “You ever want to save your horse, you just let me know.”

  She gasped, half laughing, and spun out of his grasp, dropping into her seat to wait breathlessly for his response to her show.

  The strains of Luke Bryan’s “Country Girl, Shake it for Me” boomed from the speakers, and she laughed, cheering with the rest of the crowd. And hot damn but he could sing. He’d had fun with the Katy Perry song, but with this one, he was singing for real. It could have been Luke Bryan up on that stage. Even better than that, he had the moves to go with it. When he pinned her with his gaze, jerking his head in a nod while belting out the chorus, telling his country girl to shake it for him, Iris got to her feet, ready to oblige.

  She shook her city-bred ass for all she was worth. She might not be a country girl, but she knew how to shake it, and she wasn’t afraid to have an audience while she did it. It didn’t take long for others to join her on the floor in front of the stage. But Nash kept his gaze fixed firmly on her. Dancing for him while he sang to her was probably one of the most erotic things she’d ever done. That voice of his permeated every cell of her body, igniting a rising inferno in her. Her body moved for him, enticing, pleading. She wanted his hands on her, wanted to feel if his pulse was racing as furiously as hers.

  The song ended much too soon. Iris could have listened to him sing all night, could have danced for him all night. Well, there was a club on the other side of the building. Maybe it was time for a change of scenery.

  She didn’t even have to ask him if he was game. He hopped down from the stage and hauled her against him.

  “Wanna dance?” he asked, looking down at her with a heated gaze that she knew matched hers.

  “I was just going to ask you the same thing. Let’s go.”

  “I wanna see you really move, Cookie.”

  He dropped some bills on their table and took her hand to lead her to the other side.

  Iris had her arms up and her hips swaying before they were even on the dance floor. The cabbie had been right. While the crowd might be a tad thinner than they might have found on a weekend, there were still plenty of bodies gyrating along to the music. Iris wormed her way in between them, turning around to make sure Nash was still with her.

  He snagged a table near the floor and leaned toward a waitress to yell an order in her ear before lowering himself into a chair. He stretched his long, lean legs out in front of him, crossed his ankles, and put his toothpick in his mouth. She wasn’t sure what his deal was with that thing, but damn if he didn’t look freaking sexy chewing on it, his thumbs hooked in his jeans while he watched her. Not something she thought would be sexy but… Wow.

  Maybe it was something about the way his tongue swirled around it, moving it back and forth in his mouth. Or the way his eyes, shadowed by his hat, followed her every move. Being watched like that, with that heat smoldering from his gaze, sent a streak of desire through her so strong goose bumps broke out on her arms. Her breathing sped up, her pulse pounded. He wasn’t even touching her, yet he had her wanting him—bad. That was talent.

  Well, if he wanted to watch her moves, she’d better give him something worthwhile to see. She moved a little closer to him, so no one would have any doubt who she was dancing for, and she let her body take over. Her hips swayed. Her hands caressed her own body, running from her waist down to her thighs and back up before she let her arms swing.

  She ran her hands through her hair, letting them trail down her neck and across her collarbone. Nash sat forward in his chair, resting his elbows on his knees. She swiveled her hips, turning in a slow circle, but she kept her eyes locked with his for as long as she could, whipping her head back around to capture his gaze again as she turned.

  A small smile played at his lips, and she answered it. This time, when her hands trailed up her sides, she let her shirt ride with them, revealing what she hoped was a tantalizing peek of the abs she killed herself to maintain. His jaw clenched, snapping the toothpick in half. Oh yeah. Every damn crunch had been worth it. She pulled the shirt up a tiny bit higher. He bit his bottom lip, and the muscles deep within her clenched. Holy shit, she might come right here on the dance floor.

  She trailed her hand over her bare stomach, her mouth parting at the sensation. Nash threw the destroyed toothpick on the table and stood up. A slow smile spread across her lips. But before he reached her, someone grasped her hips from behind.

  She spun around to see an attractive man thrusting his hips at her in time to the music. Under normal circumstances, she would have been down with it. He was relatively good-looking and certainly knew how to move. But the only man she was remotely interested in was the tall cowboy who loomed over them, wrapping a protective arm around her waist.

  “She’s with me,” he said, pulling her back against him. She wrapped her arms around his, hoping the idiot who’d grabbed her would get the point that she was taken and happy about it.

  However, instead of backing off like a good little boy, the other man decided to get offended. Probably courtesy of the alcohol he’d obviously been chugging since he’d arrived.

  “Hey. Howdy Doody. I didn’t see you dancing with her. If you don’t want to join the party, maybe you should just go back to whatever hick town you came from and let a real man take care of things.”

  Nash’s whole body tensed, his muscles going rigid. He gently put her behind him. Iris grabbed his arm.

  “I don’t want any trouble,” she said. “Let’s just go.”

  Nash gazed down at her, obviously torn between doing what she asked and wanting to beat the jackass in front of them to a pulp. His face softened slightly. Anger still blazed from his eyes, but he nodded. Iris sagged in relief. The last thing she wanted was some dumb fight breaking out.

  Nash put his ha
nd on her waist and started guiding her off the dance floor. The other man didn’t take kindly to that. He grabbed Nash’s shoulder and jerked. Nash didn’t budge. And he didn’t take the bait, either. He ignored the idiot and kept on going. Until the man started insulting Iris.

  “What’s the matter, cowboy? Gotta get your little bitch back to the farm before the pigs miss her?”

  Nash froze, his face turned to stone.

  “You know, if you didn’t want to share, then maybe you should keep a tighter leash on her. Dancing like a slut, practically stripping for everyone to see. It’s obvious you aren’t man enough for her or she wouldn’t be out whoring it up on the dance floor.”

  The man laughed like he’d just said the cleverest thing in the world. Nash turned back to face the guy who obviously didn’t grasp what kind of danger he was in. Nash had a good six inches on him and probably at least twenty-five more pounds of muscle. But the blowhard kept up with his taunts, though by this time, even his friends were trying to get him to back off.

  Iris watched Nash, fear and surprise running through her. He’d seemed so mild-mannered up to this point. But now he appeared taller, harder, the corded muscles on his arms bulging as he flexed his fists. She’d forgotten what her cowboy did for a living. She could easily see him taking down a full-grown steer and hog-tying it, or whatever it was he did. Either way, the jerk spouting off at the mouth was a total moron for not turning around and running, with Nash bearing down on him.

  Iris tried again to break it up. Yes, the guy deserved a good swift kick in the nuts. But the last thing she wanted was for Nash to get arrested for accidentally assaulting the asshole.

  “Let it go,” she pleaded with him. “We don’t need the trouble. He’s not worth it.”

  Nash dragged his gaze back to her, though she wasn’t sure he really saw her. His chest heaved with the force of his fury. She reached up and laid her hand on his cheek, her thumb stroking his bottom lip. His mouth parted slightly, and his eyes focused on her.

  She smiled at him, pressing closer. He wrapped an arm around her waist, bringing his hand up to caress her face. He released a long, slow breath, and some of the tension drained away from her. The guy’s friends had managed to drag him off a ways and were in his face, probably trying to impress upon him just how close he’d come to getting his ass kicked.

  Iris wrapped her arms around Nash’s waist and rose up on tiptoe to press a gentle kiss to his lips. “Thanks for being willing to defend my honor.”

  He smiled and kissed her again. “At your service, darlin’.”

  They started to sway to the strains of Lorde and her flickering yellow beast and for a moment, Iris thought they were home free.

  Unfortunately, you just couldn’t talk sense into some people.

  The drunken bozo came barreling back up to them, spewing his antagonistic nonsense again. Nash didn’t even look at him.

  “I said, why don’t you take that prissy hat off and act like a real man.”

  He leaned over and flicked a hand at Nash’s hat, knocking it askew.

  Iris froze. Nash’s expression didn’t really change much. He firmly set her away and turned her so she was behind him. He pushed his hat back on his head, rolled his shoulders, and clocked the guy cold.

  The man dropped to his knees, stunned for a second, before his eyes rolled back in his head, and he sagged to the floor.

  Iris, along with everyone else in the club, looked at Nash with open-mouthed astonishment.

  Nash glanced around and then back at Iris before shrugging. “He touched my hat.”

  Iris couldn’t help it. She laughed her ass off.

  The jerk’s friends hauled him away, apologizing to Nash and Iris while they did so. The crowd closed back over the space they’d made, and everyone got back to dancing.

  Nash grabbed Iris and hauled her to him, wrapping his arms around her waist. “Let’s dance.”

  She grinned up at him. “Yes, sir.”

  Chapter Nine

  Nash’s knuckles throbbed from connecting with the idiot’s face, but he didn’t regret it. The bum deserved much more than that for the filthy insults he’d hurled at Iris. Even worse, for putting his hands on her. And touching his hat…

  Iris ground her hips against him, and his body jumped to attention, all thoughts of anything but the woman in his arms, vanishing. They rocked together, their hands roaming, while they twisted and moved with the music. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been to a club, at least not one like this. He was always up for a little boot-scootin’ at his local bar, but an actual club… It had definitely been awhile. Not that it would have mattered. Every other time would have paled in comparison.

  Because of Iris. Damn, she was a little firecracker. Lighting him on fire and burning him up.

  She rose on her toes, sucked his earlobe into her mouth, and bit, not hard, but enough to make his dick try to jump through his jeans to get to her. She retreated, a smug smile on her lips. Oh, she wasn’t getting away with that one. He gripped her hand and pulled her to him, pinning one arm behind her back, his other hand threading through her hair as he cupped her neck and brought her close.

  He hesitated just long enough to make sure she was happy to be where she was. She stretched her face up to meet his, and he dragged her closer, lifting her to her toes while he kissed her. She clung to him, trembling in his arms as he deepened the kiss.

  He was about to drag her off the floor and find a place they could explore a little more thoroughly when the music changed. Iris laughed as Run DMC’s “Walk this Way” blared out through the speakers.

  “I love this song!” she shouted over the heightened commotion on the floor.

  People were spreading out, opening up a hole in the middle of the dancers. One or two people at a time ventured in to pull a few moves and then danced out to make room for someone else. Nash laughed at Iris who bounced and cheered those who took a turn on the floor.

  The two in the middle of the floor danced themselves off, and Iris let out a “Whoop!” and skipped into the circle. Nash’s jaw dropped. She slid into a half split that had the crowd roaring, and then bounced back up and shook her groove-thing like it was 1989. She pulled a perfect Cabbage Patch, threw in a Running Man, and a snaky, robot thing that was seriously impressive, and then just undulated like her body was made of liquid silver.

  Nash was a laid-back kind of guy, even on the quiet side. He did like to dance, and he was fairly decent at it, but he’d never done anything even remotely like that. Standing in a crowd of people going wild and watching Iris tear up the dance floor, he couldn’t help but let the beat get in his blood.

  She turned to him and cocked her finger, beckoning him onto the floor. He hesitated, and the crowd started chanting. “Cowboy, cowboy, cowboy!”

  He laughed. Well shit. No help for it then. He’d go bust-a-move, but he was going to do it his way. He hooked his fingers in his belt loops and line danced his way onto the floor. Iris’s face broke out in a huge grin. Who says you can’t line dance to eighties hip-hop? He tipped his hat to Iris and then let his feet fly, turning in and out, boot-scootin’ and cha-chaing all around her in the middle of the floor. She jumped up and down, screaming for him like the rest of the crowd. He only had eyes for her.

  He stopped in front of her, clapped one hand on his hat, and let his hips do the talking. Or thrusting, as it were. The hunger in Iris’s eyes was all the motivation he needed to step it up a bit more. In a move that mirrored hers, he slowly untucked his shirt, revealing patches of his toned abs while he did his best Magic Mike impression and sidling closer to her.

  Iris watched for a moment, then reached out, grabbed him by the waistband, and hauled him against her, pulling him down for a kiss. He pressed her as close as she could get, sinking into the sweet taste of her and pouring every ounce of adrenaline and heat that he was feeling into it. She kissed him back, making him groan.

  Then she pushed him away, startling him for a moment, until
she started dancing for him again, a provocative smile on her lips. He followed suit, and they went back and forth, throwing moves while the crowd went wild. He laughed, wondering where the real Nash had gone. Exhilaration filled him, making him feel reckless, completely uninhibited. The atmosphere in the club was intoxicating, irresistible.

  And so was she. My God. He couldn’t tear his eyes from her. And not just because that gorgeous body of hers was moving in ways he’d only dreamed of. It was more than that. She was so full of light and laughter she just exuded energy, life. At that moment, he’d have followed her anywhere.

  The crowd around them hooted and hollered as the song segued into Sisquo’s “Thong Song” and Nash laughed, looking at Iris with raised brows. Her smile stayed in place but something about her demeanor changed. Yeah, the song was kinda funny, but the beat and tone had a distinctly sexier vibe. One that Iris was obviously feeling. Her lips parted, her eyes filling with heat as she watched him move. This time he was the one to beckon her closer, raising a finger to motion her to him.

  The space around them filled up again, the dancers lost in their own worlds. He danced closer to her, and this time she didn’t move away. Instead, she swayed nearer, her hip movements matching his. She slipped one leg between his and slung an arm around his neck, the other hanging loose while she moved against him. He wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her close in a good, old-fashioned bump and grind.

  Together they rocked to the music. He let his hand drift lower down her hips until he was palming her ass, pressing her against his growing erection. She gasped, her arm tightening her grip around his neck as she tried to mold herself to him. He groaned and wrapped both arms around her, his mouth caressing her neck. She let her head drop back as they danced, allowing his lips to trail over her neck as she dipped down and back up. God, she was going to be the death of him.

  Their eyes met, heat burning between them. She ran a hand down his chest, her fingers trailing across his abdomen, along the band of his jeans, until she could dip a finger inside the top. She pulled him down for a kiss while her finger teased the tip of the erection that threatened to spill from his jeans. He groaned into her mouth while her finger played along the top of the sensitive head.