by Eden Summers
“Four-thirty.”
Fuck. He’d planned to spend the day in the suite seducing Alana. He didn’t want to place her out of her comfort zone, and he couldn’t leave her here to fend for herself either.
Her gaze lifted to focus straight past him in concern.
“It’s fine.” He gave her hand another squeeze. “I’ll work something out. They don’t need me anyway. The focus is usually on Mason.”
“No.” She shook her head with a frown. “You’re not missing out on an interview because of me.”
“I’ll stay back and look after her.” Blake smirked at him. “You’re the important lead guitarist, remember. I’m sure I can find something we can both do to pass the time.”
Mitch clenched his jaw. Why the hell was Blake pushing him?
“I’d be happy to do that, as long as you don’t have to be there, Blake.” Alana held her head high and Mitch’s heart plummeted to the base of his stomach. Had she turned into a groupie already? Did she now want to see what Blake had to offer? “I think I’d be comfortable staying here with him.”
Her eyes focused closer to his face and her lips tilted up in a grin. “You said he was gay, right?”
Blake choked and held his hand to his mouth while he reached for a glass of juice from the trolley. Mitch’s veins flooded with relief and he threw his head back and laughed. His girl was a little tease.
“You told her I was gay?” Blake blurted.
“No, he didn’t.” Alana’s dimples deepened with her widening smile. “I was just trying to put you back in your place.”
Mitch’s laughter grew, echoing off the walls. Blake sat in silence, blinking at him with a gaping mouth. His girl was a tease, and a hard ass. He leaned over, placed a kiss on her cheek, and gave a cocky wink back to Blake.
“Right. I guess there’s always a first for everything. I can’t remember a groupie ever knocking back a three-way—”
“She isn’t a groupie,” Mitch growled, and the temperature in the room dropped. What was up with Blake? He wasn’t usually a trouble maker and yet he wouldn’t quit with the comebacks this morning.
“I think that’s my queue to leave.” Blake grabbed a pancake and began to lift off the bed.
“No!” Alana shook her head. Her brow furrowed and she reached out to stay him. “I was only joking. Please don’t go.”
Mitch stared at where her hand lay on Blake’s crotch and appreciated that his friend didn’t comment.
“Please tell me I don’t have my hand some place inappropriate.” Alana’s voice broke.
“You wouldn’t be the first woman we’ve shared, if that’s what you’re after,” Blake purred.
She yanked her hand back and snapped her eyes shut as she tilted her face away. “Excuse me for a minute.” She scooted from the bed and felt her way along the mattress.
“Alana, wait.”
She shook her head, the color now drained from her face. The women they were accustomed to would’ve loved the threesome invitation. Yet her hands shook when they reached for the wall.
He went after her, but the bathroom door closed before he got there.
“Is she OK?” Blake asked in concern.
Mitch had no idea. He wasn’t used to women like Alana, fragile and unpredictable. He’d grown to loathe the easy females who found a way to their hotel suites, but at least he knew what to expect from them.
“I don’t know. She’s been through a lot in the last twenty-four hours.” He stood at the bathroom door and knocked softly.
“Just give me a minute,” her voice wavered.
Instead of waiting, he turned the handle, giving her time to protest if she was using the facilities. When nothing came, he pushed the door open and went inside, closing it behind him. She sat on the counter, in the same position he’d pleasured her earlier. He tried to clear the image from his mind, to concentrate on the here and now, but he couldn’t dislodge the vision of her back arched in delight or her lips wide as she panted in release.
She sat in silence, her legs dangling above the floor, her hands gripping the edge. There were no tears, yet her eyes held undeniable sadness.
“What’s wrong?”
She shook her head and kept her lips clamped shut.
“Sweetheart, I don’t think Blake minded that you grabbed his Johnson.” He stepped closer, moving between her legs.
She let out a defeated laugh, but didn’t speak.
He wiped the stray hair from her face. “Tell me what’s wrong.”
“I don’t know… Everything. Anything. I’m out of my element. I don’t know what I’m doing, and I’m sick of trying.”
“Trying?” He peered into her eyes and wished he could read her thoughts.
“I’m trying not to be anxious and apprehensive. I’m trying not to feel vulnerable and needy. And I’m trying damn hard not to be a burden, but I can’t see a thing, and I don’t want to annoy you.” She wiped her hands over her face and looked in his direction. “But most of all, I’m trying to appear indifferent and act like every second with you doesn’t scare the hell out of me.”
His breath caught in his throat, and he wiped away the lone tear paving a glistening trail down her cheek.
“I’m not used to this, Mitchell. I’m not like you. I’m probably not like anyone you’ve ever met. My life is different…solitary.” Her gaze fell and she hung her head. “I think I should call Kate to come and get me.”
He clutched her to his chest and hushed her words, trying to calm her down. He’d find out what she meant later. Right now he had to stop her thoughts of leaving.
“Do you really want to go?”
Silence.
He placed a finger under her chin and peered into her unfocused eyes.
“Allie?”
She shook her head and swallowed. “No.”
A flicker of hope ignited in his chest, one he’d never experienced before. He held her close for long, silent moments, enjoying the smell of her hair and the pliancy of her body.
“I don’t even have clothes to wear. Or a tooth brush.” She sighed and relaxed into him. “I’m used to taking care of myself. I don’t like being dependent on anyone, especially you.”
He pushed back, gripping her shoulders. “Especially me?”
“You’re famous, and I’m a no-name country girl with issues beyond your imagination. You don’t need me here wasting your time.”
“And what if I want you here? What if I enjoy having you around?”
Her gaze dropped. “Like I said, I’m different. You’re used to spending time with women and forgetting about them the moment you leave. It won’t be the same for me. If I stay, I’ll become attached, and that’s the last thing we both want.”
Having a permanent woman in his life had never been an option or a preference. Right now though, he wanted nothing more than to spend a few more days with Alana. Her hand reached up to lightly stroke his chest, her fingers outlining the different rows of muscles in his pecs and stomach.
Mitch mimicked the simple way her fingers traced around his body, doing the same to her legs. “Why do you keep saying you’re different? You seem normal to me.”
She let out a derisive laugh. “I’ve been cocooned from the world for most of my life.” She spoke slowly, as if choosing her words carefully. “My mother has issues from her past and hasn’t been able to overcome them.” Her fingers dipped to his waist, teasing his hips, making his cock pulse. “She wanted her own world, so I suppose she kind of created one.”
He trailed his fingers higher, to the tops of her thighs. “And this makes you different how? Lots of people live on farms and rarely get to socialize.” His hands dipped between her thighs, spreading them further apart and she sucked in a breath.
She let her head fall to his chest and slowly exhaled. “You’re the fourth man to ever touch me.” Her voice was a whisper. “Ever.”
He paused, waiting for an explanation.
“And I’m not just talking about sexually.”
“There’s been no uncles to play football with, no cousins to chase around the yard, no teachers or coaches to tap me on the shoulder for a job well done. You’re the fourth, Mitchell, and the only man that has ever given me pleasure.”
His heartbeat echoed in his ears, loud enough for the world to hear. He didn’t understand. She had flawless beauty, a natural allure which didn’t need make-up or fancy clothes. Shit, even sleep deprived and dressed in his baggy T-shirt, she still made him harder than set cement. And yet he was the first man to bring her pleasure? “I don’t get it.”
She slid her hands around his waist, and drew patterns with her fingers on his lower back. “My mother used to live here in Richmond, that’s how I know Kate. Our moms grew up together. And when my mom was in her early twenties she was...” Her fingers paused. “She was attacked by a man.”
Mitch removed his hands from her legs, a sudden wash of disgust pouring over him. He ran his arms around her back and held her close, wishing he could take away her pain.
“After it happened, she couldn’t live here anymore and moved to Colorado. She purchased a property with my late grandparent’s money and set up a type of retreat for women recovering from abuse.” Allie hugged him back, resting her cheek against his heart. “Apart from the occasional trip into the city, I haven’t been around other men at all.”
His mind spun. “What about...” He had so many questions and didn’t know where to start. “You said I was the fourth. Who were the others?”
“Experiments.” She chuckled against his chest, and he winced at the sting of jealousy. “By the time I turned twenty-one, I had a lot of questions I wanted answered. Against my mother’s wishes, I went into Colorado Springs a few times and searched for what I thought I was looking for.” She shrugged. “Turns out those men lacked your finesse.”
He clenched his jaw, unable to speak.
“It’s not as bad as it sounds.”
He shook his head and wondered how she could say that. She wouldn’t have experienced a childhood crush, a high school dance, or even dating.
“I had contact with the outside world via the phone and Internet. I watched movies, read books, surfed the web, and talked in chat rooms. I live a relatively normal life I suppose. I’m just not used to interaction with men.”
He stepped back, unable to hold her close any longer when the anger at himself had grown into a consuming ball in his chest. She sat up straight, her gaze almost focused directly on his.
“Christ. I’m sorry. You didn’t want to meet me after the gig last night, did you?” He relived the past twelve hours in his mind while he scratched his fingers through his hair. “Fuck. You didn’t want to have that drink with me, and then when I wanted to take you to the optometrist you tried to refuse, and I pressured you.”
“Mitchell, it’s not that—”
“Damn it. I wondered why you flinched at my touch when we first met and why you didn’t want to hang around. All this time I assumed you were shy.” He scrubbed a hand over his forehead, pissed as hell that he’d been narrow minded to her objections. “Kate even tried warning me this morning, but I didn’t fucking listen.”
“Mitchell.” She pushed from the bench and stumbled forward. He caught her before she corrected herself, and then dropped his hands from her arms, not wanting to make the situation worse.
She stepped into him, grabbed onto his shoulders and stared at his throat. “Yes, I was scared. But never of you. The thing that alarmed me was how much I enjoyed your touch.” A soft kiss peppered his chin and he closed his eyes. “My mother brought me up believing all men are...” She sighed. “You weren’t what I was expecting. I like you, and those three words are something I never thought I’d have the opportunity to say to a man. So when I tell you I’m trying to fit in and trying not to feel vulnerable and needy and scared, that’s what I mean.”
He gazed down at her, hating himself for pushing her into something she wasn’t prepared for. He couldn’t even find the words to apologize.
“Please touch me, Mitchell. One last time before I leave.”
Squeezing his eyes shut, he fought for control. Fear gripped him by the balls and held tight. Disgust churned in his belly. He wanted to cocoon her in his arms and protect her from the world, just like her mother had done her entire life.
Her hands ran down his sides and under his shirt, her tiny nails scouring a trail up his chest. Christ! He needed to think. His blood burned in his veins urging him to lift her in his arms and carry her to the bed, but how could he? How could he sink himself into this fragile woman and ignore the fear that he might break her?
“Don’t think. Don’t judge. Just pretend I’m not damaged and make love to me before I go. Please.”
Delicate fingers found his nipples, tweaking, rubbing until he needed to bite his tongue to stay in control. His erection jerked between them, begging for attention. The need to take her built inside him, growing and morphing until he wanted to fall to his knees in surrender.
“Mitchell?” She kissed his neck, trailing her fingers down his chest, over his stomach. Lower. When she gripped his cock he hissed in a breath and everything inside him snapped.
His lips found hers and one hand cupped her face. He opened the door and shuffled her backward into the bedroom. He devoured her, tasted every part of her mouth, and held her tight to his chest so she couldn’t let go. She whimpered, mewled, the tiny, needy sounds sinking into his soul, her dainty fingers gripping his waist.
He lifted her, hauling her ass into his hands while her legs wrapped around his hips. The heat of her pussy burned through his boxers. Her hands cupped his face, keeping their lips meshed as he walked her to the bed.
When his knees hit the side of the mattress he dropped her, letting her fall back on the soft quilt. Plates clanged and cutlery collided from the other side of the bed. Their breakfast feast still laid there, the food now teetering at odd angles with the weight. And Blake nowhere in sight.
Not taking any chances, Mitch stalked to the bedroom door and found his friend sitting on the sofa, laptop in hand. “I’m closing the fucking door. You so much as touch the handle, and I’ll break your fingers.”
Blake grinned. “No problem. I’ll just put my ear against the wall and listen.”
Mitch clenched his fist and took a threatening step forward.
“I’m joking.” Blake chuckled. “Geez, lighten up.”
Mitch continued to glare as he slammed the door.
In three steps he was on the bed, walking on his knees toward Alana. She rested on her elbows, her eyes gazing unfocused on the quilt beside her. He’d regretted not being able to save her from harm yesterday, but right now his desire to have her looking at him made his chest ache. He needed her to see the emotion in his expression because the thought of putting his feelings into words scared the shit out of him.
His palms began to sweat, and his throat constricted. There was no time to breathe. No time to think. He wanted inside her and his world would end if he didn’t get there soon. He gripped the waist of his shirt, pulled it off and threw it to the floor.
Her head turned, following the noise and when he sat back on his haunches, simply staring at her face, she frowned and blinked back at him.
“Mitchell?”
He moved closer, hating the confusion in her voice. “Yeah, sweetheart?”
“I...I can’t see.” She swallowed and sat up. “I need you to tell me what to do. Show me what to do.”
He shuffled closer until they were an inch apart. “Just touch me.” He picked up her hands and placed them on his chest, one over his heart. Leaning in, he nipped her chin, kissed her neck. “I want you to touch me everywhere.”
Her head fell to the side giving him better access to lick and nip and nuzzle. The tender stroke of her fingers fell down his pecs, waving over each of his ribs, and stopped at the waist of his boxers. His mind screamed for her to go lower, to grip him again and relieve
some of his suffering.
“Allie, are you sure you want to do this?” He licked a trail along her collarbone.
“Yes,” she panted. “It’s all I want.” The elastic at his waist lowered. “Just you.”
He helped her remove his boxers, the plates on the bed colliding as he pulled first one leg, then the other free. He sat naked before her, and breathed slowly through the uncertainty. Women usually devoured him with their eyes, their lips, their tongues. He wasn’t used to going without the looks of admiration. He’d never realized the boost they gave his ego.
Alana reached for the bottom of her T-shirt—his T-shirt—and pulled it over her head. He shut his mouth to stop himself from gaping and simply gazed at her, taking in her beauty. She had the most perfect body, just like he expected. Round, pert breasts with dark pink nipples, and a slim waist he couldn’t wait to get his hands on.
“I hope you’re not staring.” She grinned at him as she started to lower the loose boxers and her panties at the same time.
“I’m sorry to disappoint.” His voice went hoarse.
Alana licked her lips, a nervous gesture that had him gripping his cock in an effort to beat back his arousal. “You’re beautiful.”
Her gaze lowered and her hands came up to run over his shoulders, around his neck. “Kiss me.”
He didn’t need to be told twice. His lips claimed hers, soft at first, then the pressure changed into an uncontrollable urgency. They gripped at one another, their hands roaming each other’s bodies in a frenzy he couldn’t understand and didn’t contemplate. He leaned into her and hugged her close while he lowered her to the pillows.
She lay in his arms, her gaze unfocused around his chin. Her hips pressed into his, the tiny gyrations making his erection rub against her sex. He growled and ran his hand over breasts that begged to be cupped and a waist that yearned to be trailed in kisses. Her fingers rested on his shoulders, their grip becoming tighter the further south he traveled.
When he reached the mound of curls between her thighs, she sucked in a breath. The musk of her arousal lay heady and hypnotic in the air. Later he would taste her, suck her pussy lips into his mouth and feast on her. But now he wanted to touch. He trailed lower, brushed her clit and smiled to himself when she bucked.