Facing me, she straddled the chair, thrusting her bare hoo-ha inches from my face. I dissolved into another round of giggles, the vodka obviously having gone straight to my head. This was why I didn’t drink.
She rolled her eyes again, but looked mildly amused this time as she continued to dance to the rhythm of the music.
“So, what’s up with this guy?” she asked.
“We kissed, but now he doesn’t want anything to happen. Which would be fine if I didn’t have to be around him all the time. I feel like such an idiot.”
“The best way to make him realize he’s being stupid is to act like you don’t care. Don’t pine over him. Let him realize his mistake. Though requesting a lap dance was pretty genius,” she added with a chuckle.
I grinned. It was hard to take this chick seriously when she was rubbing her nipples in my face.
Finally the song ended. She stood up and put her thong back on, flashing me a smile. She held out her hand, which I took, and led me back out to the main area where the guys greeted me with cheers and high fives.
Sax stood behind them, scowling. His eyes flashed angrily as he grabbed hold of my hand. I bit my lip to hide my smile. He was so damn pissed and I loved it.
“We’re going. All of us. Now,” he growled.
***
“Where’s the chick that was throwing herself over you at the bar?” Liam said, throwing a grin in Sax’s direction. “Thought you would have had her bent over your bed by now.”
“I’m not you,” Sax shot back, his eyes darkening. He glanced my way. Our eyes met for a brief moment before he looked away. “I don’t fuck everything with a pulse.”
“Hey, who said they had to be breathing?” Harry laughed. His eyes fell on me, and then dropped to the floor. “Sorry, Micah.”
“Don’t mind me. I just had a lap dance, for God’s sake.”
“You’re surprising, M. I never would’ve expected that from you,” Harry said with a grin. I saw him glance at Sax. What was that about? My stomach flipped. Had he said something to Harry about us…our kiss?
You’re being paranoid. Harry is the last person Sax would confide in.
***
We got back to the motel and ordered some takeout. After all the food and several more rounds of drinks were gone, the guys left to go back to their own room. I sat on the floor watching Sax, who had been knocking back the drinks like there was no tomorrow. For someone who doesn’t drink, he sure can put a few away.
“Hey, what’s the go for tomorrow?” asked Liam, sticking his head back through the doorway.
“I don’t know. I’ve got shit to do around here, so you guys can take the van.” He threw the keys to Liam. “Just be back by eight in case we have a show. And no drinking.”
Liam rolled his eyes and nodded. “What about you, M?”
“I’ll just hang around here too, I think.” I smiled at him. Wow. He was calling me M. I felt a twinge of happiness. That meant I was starting to fit in. I glanced at Sax.
Well, with most of the guys, anyway.
I stood up and walked toward the bathroom, aware that Sax’s eyes were on me. Closing the door, I locked it. My body was craving a nice hot shower.
I turned on the taps and waited for the water to reach temperature. Peeling off my clothes, I let them fall to the floor before stepping under the stream of water.
Holy shit, that feels good.
Tilting my head back, I let the hot water run down over my face. I loved my showers, and going even a day without one has been awful. I could feel the tension in my shoulders melting away.
Under the sanctuary of soothing hot water, my mind wandered back over the evening’s events. It had been a fun night—especially seeing Sax get so worked up. He had been so concerned with what I was doing that it occupied his whole night.
Why had he kissed me in the first place? No, it wasn’t even the fact that he didn’t want to explore whatever this was, it was the way he just shut me off with no explanation. You’d never know he was the older one. I might be shy, and I might keep to myself, but I knew enough to realize that communication was the key to any relationship, whether it was work or romantic.
Turning the taps off, I stepped out onto my now wet clothes and reached for my towel. Fuck. I’d forgotten to bring my pajamas with me. Sighing, I wrapped the towel around me and kicked my clothes into a pile in the corner of the room.
I took a deep breath, opened the bathroom door and walked out, my head held high. As I strutted across the room, I could feel his eyes on me, and a shiver raced down my spine. Turning around, I raised my eyebrows as I held his gaze. He didn’t move, nor did he falter. He just kept staring.
“Is there a reason you’re staring at me?” I snapped, clutching the towel closer to my body.
He stood up, his eyes burning into mine. “You’re walking around in a fucking towel, and you need to ask me that?” he snorted. His jaw twitched as his gaze slowly and deliberately ran over my body.
I gripped the towel a little tighter against me. “Me?” I said with a laugh.
Was he serious? Sure, I’d purposely pushed his buttons, and sure, that wasn’t my most mature moment, but he’d shut me down, not the other way around. If anyone was messing with the other here, it was him.
He stepped forward until his body was almost pressing against mine. He was so close I could smell the alcohol on his breath. I swallowed, eyeing him suspiciously. What was he up to now? Drunk and frustrated was not a good combination.
“How badly do you want to kiss me right now?” he whispered, his warm breath touching my neck. I gasped as his tongue curled around my earlobe, sucking…nibbling….
Oh God.
My hands shook as I closed my eyes. I was frozen, unable to move, every touch electric. His hands moved up my thighs, wrapping around my hips. I gasped as my towel fell away when he lifted me onto his hips, his hands firmly gripping the backs of my thighs.
“You’re so cute when you play hard to get,” he murmured, kissing my neck, his erection pressing against me. The faint smell of whiskey hit me again, and something inside me snapped. I wrangled out of his hold.
“And you’re drunk,” I leaned down and grabbed my towel, covering myself up. “Exactly how many shots did you have?”
He shrugged, his mouth nipping at my neck. “I’m not drunk, Micah. I just don’t give a fuck anymore. I’m done with the games.”
“Okay, but it took you half a bottle of whiskey to realize this?” I asked, raising my eyebrows.
He was right—I did want to kiss him again. With every fiber of my being, I wanted to feel his body against mine, but there was too much at stake. I had too much to lose for him to decide in a drunken haze that he wanted me, and then change his mind again in the morning.
His hand met the bare skin of my thigh. I groaned softly as his fingers began to ride up over the curve of my backside.
“What’s the matter?” he smirked. “You don’t want me to do this?”
I exhaled sharply as his tongue ran over my neck.
Why was he making it so damn hard for me to resist?
“Come talk to me when you’re sober,” I said firmly, removing his hands from me.
My body screamed at me, begging for more of his touch. I couldn’t deny how badly I wanted him.
He groaned but relented, a smile playing on his lips. “You think I’m going to feel differently tomorrow?” he asked, narrowing his eyes at me.
I shot him a look. Did I really need to answer that? He’d been hot and cold all week: one minute he didn’t care about anything other than being with me, and the next he was all business.
“‘Night, Sax,” I said with a tight smile. I flipped off the light on my side of the room and walked over to my bed. All this teasing was frustrating the hell out of me.
In the darkness, I pulled on a tank top and my pajama shorts and climbed into the bed, pulling the covers up over me. Even though it was the middle of winter, my body was scorching hot—a si
de effect of being so close to him . . . so close to doing what I’d so desperately wanted to do . . .
I closed my eyes and listened to the sound of his breathing. My hand crept underneath the soft cotton sheet, my fingers softly tickling my breasts. I could hear his heavy breathing in the darkness.
He’s so close, it’s almost like he’s in here with me.
I sighed, imagining that it was his fingers exploring me. When he’d kissed me, my body responded with more intensity than I’d ever felt. I’d been with boys in the past, but nothing even came close to the way I felt around him. Because he wasn’t like the boys I knew. He was a man.
He swallowed loudly. The thought of him listening to me touching myself was an incredible turn-on. Was it making him hard? Were his fingers curled around his hard cock?
I breathed out as my fingers slipped inside the top of my pajama shorts. I was so wet, my finger slid inside with ease. I listened to the sound of him breathing, imagining it was his fingers inside of me. I could almost feel his breath on my neck. A moan escaped me and my heart began to pound. Had he heard that? Oh God, I was too far in to stop now. Burying my face under my pillow, I parted my legs a little more. My fingers moved inside me faster and with more urgency as my body began to brace itself.
With my arm over the pillow, I squeezed it down hard over my face as my whole body began to ache. Oh God, oh my… I gasped, my legs clenching together, locking my fingers inside me as I teased myself against the pressure until I couldn’t take any more. My heart raced as I rolled over. I was desperately trying to compose myself, and at the same time, in shock that I’d just done that with him sleeping in the same room.
“‘Night, Micah.”
I froze as his voice filled the darkness, my heart pounding.
Holy shit.
A tiny smile spread across my lips.
“‘Night Sax,” I murmured, biting the inside of my cheek.
***
“How did you sleep?”
I stiffened at the sound of his voice. I’d woken up to an empty room. And now here he was and I was embarrassed about last night. I knew he’d heard my little performance, but did he know I’d been thinking about him? Don’t be stupid; he was so drunk that he probably doesn’t remember anyway.
“Fine,” I replied, taking possession of one of the lattes he was holding in his hands. Thank God he had coffee. “You? A little hungover this morning?” I teased.
“Nope, not at all. Slept like a baby,” he shot back, his voice smug. Bullshit. The heavy, dark circles under his eyes told me otherwise. “But it’s probably a good thing I don’t have to drive, though,” he added.
“Uh-huh. Just to be safe, right?” I teased.
“Yep,” he grinned, pushing past me.
I rolled my eyes. He was so hard to read sometimes.
He sat down next to me and glanced at my notebook. “What are you writing?”
“Just words, really. Words that sometimes work their way into lyrics.”
“Can I have a look?” he asked.
I hesitated. Nobody read my work. Ever. It wasn’t that I was worried it wasn’t good; it was just that it was so personal. I’d learned early on that the best way for me to process my feelings was to get them down on paper. Somehow, putting my thoughts into words made everything that had gone wrong in my life easier to process. I slid the book across to him with shaking hands.
He probably thinks I’m nervous because of who he is. If only he knew it was because of what he might discover about me.
He flipped through the pages in silence, his jaw twitching as he studied my words. My heart pounded. Why had I given it to him? It was like giving him a piece of me; a window to my soul.
“These are really good,” he murmured. “Have you worked these into music before?”
I shrugged, embarrassed by his praise. “I’ve played around, but I’m not that experienced with pairing music with lyrics.” Compared to him, I was a novice. I knew that he’d written most of the songs for Savage.
“These are really fucking good,” he said again. “I can teach you. How to pair your lyrics with music, I mean. There’s no better feeling than hearing the words you’ve written come to life.”
“That would be great,” I said shyly. “I’m nowhere near as good as you, but anything you’re willing to teach me, I want to learn.”
“There’s a lot I can teach you, honey,” he said with a smirk.
I blushed and looked back down at my notebook. “Do you still write songs?” I asked him.
“Sure. It’s my way of getting everything out, you know? It’s great for clearing your head. Kind of like keeping a diary.”
“Except you don’t share your diary with the whole world,” I mumbled.
“Who said you have to share your music?” He shrugged. “That’s up to you, but simply writing it can help you feel what you’re singing. It can help you connect with the words, because at the end of the day, if you don’t believe what you’re singing, why should your fans?”
I nodded slowly. I guess that made sense.
If there was one thing I was learning from Sax and being in this band, it was how little I actually knew about music. That kind of scared me, because music had always been the one thing I thought I knew inside and out. Knowing how much I still had to learn was daunting.
But the thought of Him teaching me made it a little less scary.
Chapter Fifteen
Sax
“Hello?”
“Yes, Sax? It’s Ben here, from the bar. Look, I’m not going to be able to get this place open until next week, it looks like. How do you feel about playing at a private party tonight? It’s my niece’s birthday and she’s a fan.”
“Yeah, no worries, just text me the address, and what time you want us there,” I said. I glanced around. I was sitting out the front of my room. Micah had gone for a walk, and God knows where the guys were.
“Great, thanks for being so understanding. I know this probably throws your whole week out.”
“It’s fine,” I assured him. Ben was just one of those guys you couldn’t help but like. Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t be angry with him. Hanging up the phone, I punched in the numbers of all the guys, and Micah.
Private party tonight, make sure you’re here by seven.
Just as I hit send, Micah rounded the corner, her phone in her hand. My heart pounded as she walked toward me. We had both been ignoring last night, but it was far from forgotten—for me anyway. Every time I saw her, the thought of her touching herself and the image of her naked body floated through my head. And fuck, was that arousing.
The thing was, nothing had changed in my mind. I still wanted her. And I was used to getting what I wanted.
“Hey,” I said.
She looked fucking hot as usual, in her skinny jeans and a gray, low-cut sweater, over which she wore a black leather jacket.
“You got my message?”
She nodded. “I did. Good that we’ve got something tonight at least.” She sat down next to me. Her eyes met mine and she smiled. “What are you doing out here?”
I shrugged. “Just taking in the wonderful scenery that is Pinson Creek.”
She laughed. The motel faced the main road, and beyond that was dry, flat land for miles. The place couldn’t be less inspiring if it tried. I smiled, cocking my head. I so badly wanted to kiss her. I needed to taste those lips.
Fuck it.
Swiveling around, I moved my hand up to her face. My fingers roamed through her long, thick hair as I brought my mouth to hers. She kissed me back, her arms moving around my waist.
She laughed as I lifted her onto my lap, my hands pushing up under her sweater. I kissed her again, sucking on her lip, the smell of her shampoo clouding my senses. She was intoxicating.
“Come inside,” I said. Moving her off me, I stood up, taking her hand in mine.
Her eyes widened. “What if the others come back?”
“I don’t give a fuck. All I care
about right now is you,” I growled. I pulled her up against me and lifted her onto my hips. I began to kiss along her neck, my tongue gently massaging her soft skin.
She whimpered, wrapping her arms around my neck as I fumbled with the door. Fucking key. Finally, the door burst open. Once inside, I slammed it shut with my foot as she slipped off her jacket and removed her sweater, letting both fall to the floor.
“You’re fucking beautiful,” I muttered, pressing my lips against hers. “I can’t think when I’m around you. Last night? I’d had one fucking drink. That wasn’t the alcohol talking, I can promise you that.”
This was killing me. She was so fucking perfect. My lips pressed against hers as my fingers unbuttoned her jeans. My heart pounded. I hadn’t been this nervous around a girl in so fucking long. Tugging her jeans down over her ass, I eased her back on the bed until she lay flat.
She giggled as I struggled to yank the jeans off her legs. What the fuck? Who the hell wears this shit?
“Pull the end over my ankles and then tug,” she said, biting her lip. I followed her directions and they slipped off easily.
I narrowed my eyes as she chuckled harder. “Watch yourself,” I whispered. I lowered myself over her as my tongue caressed her neck. “Men are sensitive creatures. We don’t like being made fun of.”
“I think you’ll cope.” She curled her legs around my waist as her fingers raked through my hair. My lips found hers as I kissed her, my desire to be with her impossible to ignore. She whimpered as I unclipped her bra and tossed it aside.
My hand cupped her face before trailing down to the middle of her chest. I took the swell of her breast in my hand, rolling her nipple against my palm as my mouth explored the sweet, naked skin of her breast.
“Oh God,” she cried as my lips closed around her nipple, sucking and teasing her with my tongue. Her fingers gripped my shoulders, her nails digging in to my skin.
Narrowing my eyes, I smirked at her before sliding off the bed.
She watched me with wide eyes as I held out my hand to her. “What are you doing?” she asked, nervously taking my hand.
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