“Adequate.” He grinned. “Sounds... underwhelming.”
“Yeah. That,” I muttered, pulling on my clothes. Clearly, he didn’t believe me. If the orgasms didn’t tell him otherwise, maybe all the filthy things I’d whispered in his ear while he was giving them to me did the job.
Apparently bourbon loosened my tongue, much like every other type of alcohol I’d ever met.
I flopped onto the bed as he started into a new song, one I didn’t recognize. I lay back on the pillows to listen as he started to sing. “Katie I’m sorry for being a dick… can you forgive me for being a prick…?”
I grinned.
“That’s all I’ve got so far,” he said, ending on a final strum.
“What’re you sorry for?”
“For snooping in your sketchbook the other night while you were in the shower.”
“Oh. That.” I kicked his knee, gently, with my big toe. “You should be sorry.”
“I’m not sorry for getting jealous.”
Jealous? Jesse Mayes? Of some random dude in a bar?
A random dude I wasn’t even interested in?
“You’re in there too, you know,” I said, nodding at the sketchbook, which was lying on the floor.
He eyed the sketchbook, then dove for it about a millisecond before I did. He snatched it up and settled back onto the bed, ditching the guitar. I tried to wrestle the sketchbook from him, never mind the fact that I was wrestling a very large and muscular, not to mention naked, man. A naked man who had me on my back in two seconds flat, pinned down by his large, muscular body, his cock stiffening against my thigh in the process. “Show me,” he said, his voice all gravelly with lust.
“I thought you snooped.”
“I just looked at the last sketch. The one of that dilhole from the bar.” He ran his nose up the side of my neck, his hot breath caressing my throat. “Then everything turned red and I forgot to keep snooping.”
“Amateur,” I muttered, but clearly I was the amateur, because I was already starting to pant as his teeth nipped my neck, followed by his lips. “I forgive you,” I said with a swallow. “As long as you don’t do it again.”
His lips grazed my earlobe. “Show me the one you did of me and we’ll call it even.”
I laughed. “What ‘even’? I didn’t do anything.”
“You flirted with the dilhole.”
I wriggled beneath him as his lips worked their way back down my neck. “I told you that was unintentional. We were just talking. I didn’t even think I was flirting.” My breath caught as he licked the little hollow at the base of my throat. “I, uh… wasn’t interested in him.”
“Katie.” He moved lower, his mouth skimming my collarbone as he spoke. “You talk to a dude in a bar and let him buy you a drink, he thinks you’re flirting.” His stubble rasped against my skin, making my nipples harden. “You breathe in a guy’s general direction and he’s gonna hope like hell you’re flirting.”
“Well, that’s his problem,” I said, breathless.
“No, it’s my problem.”
I wriggled in his grasp again, but he pinned my wrists to the bed. “Um, can you let me up? I’m gonna pass out if I don’t eat something before you have your way with me again.”
A slow smile spread across his gorgeous face. “Not until you say we’re even.”
“We’re even.”
His dark eyes narrowed. But he eased off my wrists and rolled slightly to the side so I could sit up.
“Don’t snoop,” I said, righting my clothes, which were all askew.
“Show me the drawing of me.”
“No.”
His eyes narrowed further.
“And you want me to trust you, you don’t snoop. Even though you know there are sketches of you in this book.” I stressed the plural on sketches, picking up the sketchbook and flipping through it in a leisurely manner, but at an angle that he couldn’t see anything.
“Fine.” He looked like a dejected kid who’d been deprived of ice cream as he flopped back on the bed. “Katie, in all seriousness. It’s really fucking good. You should be doing something with it.” He tried to get a look in the book, but I shut it and hugged it to my chest.
“Tried. Didn’t work out.”
“So what? You’re just gonna let that stop you?”
I shrugged. I was in no mood to discuss my professional ambitions, or lack thereof, this early in the morning, on incredibly little sleep, while suffering a major sex hangover. I was hungry, thirsty, and achy in all the right places, and thanks to Jesse, I was now horny again.
“Where do you think I’d be if I stopped in my tracks every time something didn’t go exactly how I wanted it? Do you think I just woke up one morning and the fucking music fairy left a record deal under my pillow?”
“Maybe. Did you sleep with her?”
“Har har. Trust me, it wasn’t that easy.”
“I’m sure it wasn’t.”
“So?” He sat up and stared me down, waiting.
“So what?”
“So whatcha gonna do about it, babe?”
“About what?”
He tapped my shoulder, softly, with his fist. “About your mad talent, girl.”
“I dunno.”
“Katie. What the fuck.”
“Can we not have this conversation while you’re naked?”
“Why?” He slid his bent knee a little closer to me, spreading his thighs. “Too distracting?”
“No.” I held up a hand, blocking my view of his semi. “But it’s hard to, you know, take you seriously when you’re naked.” That wasn’t it, exactly. More like it was hard to keep my mind on anything but his smooth, golden skin, his hard pecs, his sculpted thighs, and whatever was going on behind my raised hand.
“Fine. Let’s smoke a joint and hash it out.” He bounced off the bed.
“I don’t want to hash it out, Jesse. I wanna go back to sleep, like a sane person.”
But he was already stepping into his jeans, drawing them up over his sculpted ass as he headed for the door, completely ignoring my protests.
“Jesse...?”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
* * *
Jesse
Half an hour later, Katie was devouring a giant breakfast sandwich with two fried eggs and triple cheese. I’d already wolfed mine down. Raf had smoked us up while the other guys grabbed our breakfast and we were on the road again. We were about half an hour from our destination, which meant I had about fifteen minutes to get Katie to tell me what the fuck was going on with her art, and fifteen for a quickie.
I could work with that.
“That is the most amazing… most mellowest… yet potent weed I’ve ever…” Katie said between bites. She was sitting cross-legged in her cut-offs, her tits bare beneath her thin tank top, her smooth, pale skin looking slightly sun-kissed.
I mellowed out against the pillows in my jeans, idly playing my guitar. “Cool. Now tell me why you don’t want to be an artist.”
I serenaded her while she thought about that, bits of “Dirty Like Me” and Eric Clapton’s “Layla” and I didn’t even know what else, just some fragments that had been bouncing around in my head and might turn into a new song.
Finally, she said, “I didn’t say that.”
“But you’re crazy talented and you obviously love doing it. You’re always drawing in that book. So what’s the problem?”
“I don’t know.”
“Bullshit. Haven’t you ever dreamed of making a living off the thing you love doing?”
“Of course.”
“So what happened to that dream?”
She shrugged. “Life happened. I used to draw like a fiend. And I painted all through my teens. Pretty much since I was about ten years old and I realized drawings and paintings weren’t just things on walls or in books, they were something I could do.”
Damn. She painted too? I’d pay money to see a Katie Bloom original. And not just because she had a sweet ass and perf
ect, lickable tits.
“And?” I prompted.
“And I hung out with a bunch of skater kids and some of them were into street art so I got into that.”
“Street art? You mean graffiti?”
“Yeah. You really want to see my work, there are remnants of it all over Vancouver. I can tell you where to go.”
“I will,” I said.
She shook her head, brushing that off like it wasn’t even worth pretending to believe. “I just kinda got lost along the way, you know? I think it started when I got arrested.”
My hands stilled on the guitar. “You what?”
“I got arrested.”
“Sweet Katie Bloom? Mug shots and everything?”
She scowled at me. “Don’t tell me you’ve never been arrested, Mr. Badass Rock Star.”
“I haven’t.”
“Bullshit.”
“Scout’s honor. Ask Jude, Brody, anyone.”
“Oh. Well, I have. It’s not fun. I was eighteen and I was dating Josh, so his dad’s lawyers were able to get the charges dropped, and eventually got the record purged. Which is why Jude never found it.” She grinned a little sheepishly.
“What the hell did you do to get arrested?”
“Got caught in the vicinity of a wall I’d just painted on, with my paints. And then they found the weed.”
“Shit. You were a badass.”
“Not really. Just a kid.” She finished the last of her sandwich and started into the iced vanilla latte with extra whipped cream that Jude had picked up for her. He’d even found her some cherries to put in it. “The whole experience was brutal. Josh’s parents decided I was a misfit at that point. He defended me to them, more or less, but over time I could tell he’d lost respect for me. If he ever had it in the first place. He always acted like if he could just clean me up a little I’d be more acceptable.”
“Seriously?”
“Yup. It came up in little ways, pretty much daily. It seems so stupid now that I didn’t see it then, the way he would criticize my friends and the music I listened to, every little fucking thing. When we went to dinner with his parents, he’d veto my outfits and tell me to change into something more ‘presentable.’ When he jumped ship at the altar, I’m pretty sure they were elated.”
“You ask me, you dodged a bullet.” It was obvious to me that the douche didn’t deserve her. But I was pretty sure she didn’t believe that yet.
“Yeah, except… I’d just graduated from art school, and Josh’s dad owned an art gallery. One of his many investments. We were planning to have my big debut there that winter. Not like he actually gave a shit about art, or me, but more like he was throwing me a bone to win points with his son. As soon as the wedding was off, Josh, Senior canceled the show.”
“Oh, fuck.”
“Oh, yeah. ’Cause that’s what happens, apparently, when your fiancé ditches you and your first big art show is supposed to take place at his father’s gallery. You get dumped twice over.”
“Jesus.” Douche Junior and Douche Senior.
“Uh-huh. Personally and professionally kicked to the curb.” She slurped her drink. “Lost my studio space in that great purge as well. Also owned by—”
“Josh, Senior?”
“You got it. No way I could afford the rent on a studio of my own, so after that I moved my things into my sister’s basement.”
“That’s shitty, Katie. But you know you can’t let it stop you, right?” I wondered if she’d thought about using the money from this tour to start something up, but it was pretty obvious she didn’t have the confidence to believe she could really make her way as an artist. Not yet.
“Yeah. Well.” She shrugged. “You ask me why I don’t want to do anything with my art. It’s not that I don’t. It’s just that I don’t know what to do anymore, or even where to start.” She flipped idly through her sketchbook, not bothering to hide the pages from me anymore, but I didn’t look. I didn’t want to look again until she invited me to.
She caught me watching her and gave me a sweet smile. “I guess I kind of lost my mojo.”
“Then we’ll just have to get it back.”
“Yeah,” she said quietly.
She flipped through her book some more, but she didn’t seem to be looking at the drawings.
“Hey, Jesse?”
She looked at me, her big blue-greens softening as she searched for the words. Pretty sure it was the pot, but it was a good look on her. She looked more relaxed than usual, less… on guard.
“I know you hired me and this is a business deal, but I just want to say… I don’t know… thank you, I guess. For giving me something I never thought was possible.”
I set my guitar aside. “Such as?”
“Such as… I don’t know… I guess, I…” She blushed something fierce. “I just never knew that sex could, um… be like that.”
I grinned, ear-to-fucking-ear. “Like what?” I moved closer to her on the bed, grabbing her by her hips and yanking her toward me.
“You know.” The blush deepened. “So… volcanic.”
I laughed and pulled her onto my lap, so she straddled me in her tiny cut-offs.
“I’m serious,” she said, her eyebrows pinching together.
“I know you are.” I yanked her closer against me so she could feel me getting hard for her. “But you say it like it’s some fluke…” I brushed her hair out of her face. “You’re fucking molten hot, Katie.”
Then I rolled over, taking her with me, and started peeling off her clothes like I’d been dying to do all morning.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
* * *
Katie
Jesse’s hand skimmed over my breast. My nipple peaked in response and I glanced around.
We were sitting in the very dark back corner of a packed club, after his Miami show. Actually, I was sitting across Jesse’s lap. I’d worn a halter top with no bra and he’d been eye-fucking me and groping me like crazy ever since he got off stage.
Good to know that hadn’t changed since we started having sex.
He rubbed his thumb over my taut nipple, then tugged the thin fabric of my shirt aside, baring the side of my breast—the side in front of his face. He nuzzled against me, his tongue flicking out to lick my nipple. I glanced around again but I didn’t think anyone could see. Still, I turned into him a little more to block what he was doing from the rest of the room.
He took the opportunity to suck my nipple into his mouth. I let him suck on it for a few seconds, because really… ung. Then I wriggled free, grabbed his hair and tipped his head back, leaning in close to his face.
“What are you doing?”
“Helping you get your mojo back.” His nimble fingers sought out my nipple and plucked at it gently.
“Uh…” I breathed as the pleasure throbbed through me. “Right now?”
“Yeah. Right now.” He sucked my bottom lip into his mouth and bit it gently.
“Here?”
“Mmm…” he said between kisses. “Why not?”
Why not?
Maybe because today Devi had sent me a link to some pictures of me online. Unflattering pictures. I mean, I looked fine in them. I was smiling and dancing, but I was smiling and dancing with Pepper. And Letty. And a bunch of other guys who weren’t Jesse. Because someone at the bar had taken photos of us when we were celebrating Pepper’s birthday. And now they were online, making me look like a major flirt.
It wasn’t like it was the first time there were pictures of me online. Since we’d started the tour, Jesse and I were all over the place. Devi sent links to me almost daily, though I tried not to click on all of them. It was too much for my brain to process, but the fact was there were probably hundreds, if not thousands of photos of us out there already.
But this was the first time there were pictures of me partying without Jesse, and I didn’t like what they implied.
Jesse caught my chin and pulled my face to his. “Hey. You okay?”
“Yeah. Just… embarrassed.”
“About what?”
“You know. Those pictures.”
“Babe. You’ve got nothing to be embarrassed about.”
“But when we agreed to this deal you said I couldn’t get involved with anyone else. I wasn’t supposed to do anything to make you look bad. Those pictures kinda implied—”
He wrapped his arms around me. “You didn’t make me look bad, cherry pie. You could never make me look anything but good.”
I rolled my eyes. “You’re just saying that because you’re all horny and there’s no blood left in your head.”
“That may be true, but I’m not just saying it. The fans love you. They love that I’m in love with a regular girl, not some celebrity.” His lips quirked. “Brody’s calling us the great Canadian love story.”
I grinned. “Uh-huh.” I mean, it was thrilling, really. I didn’t mind being the “regular girl” in this particular love story, swept off my feet by the super-sexy hero. I just didn’t like how the story was going to end. “Except that it’s a lie. Which still feels weird to me. Being envied… and being judged for things that aren’t even true.”
He laid his hand on the side of my face and stroked his thumb over my bottom lip. “Don’t let it bother you, Katie. None of it’s real anyway.”
My stomach fell at those words, but I just nodded.
“How could any of it be real?” he went on. “What the fuck does the world know about what’s really going on in people’s private lives?”
I shrugged. “Nothing, I guess.”
“Not a fuck of a lot, anyway.”
He kissed me, and I tried to let it go. “We just need some more,” he mumbled between kisses.
“More?”
“More volcano sex.”
I laughed.
“That’s better. Don’t make me fuck that sad look right off your face.”
I laughed harder and kissed him. The man had a way of making everything feel better.
Rock Star Romance Ultimate Volume 2 Page 49