by Leah Braemel
She pressed her thighs together, totally turned on by his barely-in-control warning. Luckily her boots had zippers, so they came off in a jiffy.
“Faster.” His voice was roughened and deeper than normal. While her hands shook undoing the buttons of her blouse, his were smooth, determined as he undid his belt, unzipped his fly.
Knowing she was taunting the bear, she shrugged off her shirt, popped open the front clasp of her bra and dropped both to the floor. Seconds later she stepped out of her jeans and undies.
The moment she stepped free of the fabric, he lunged for her. Laid her flat on the bed, rose over her, smoothing a condom over his long, hard cock.
“I can’t go slow. Not this time. Later.”
“Fast, slow, I don’t care.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and tried to pull him down.
“No.” He shook his head and grasped her wrists, pressed them onto the pillows over her head. “Keep them there.”
His work-roughened hands spread her thighs further apart, cupped her ass and lifted as he bent down and swiped a tongue up her slit then pulled back, his eyebrows raised high. “What the fuck?” A hot smile slowly slid over his face, and he braced himself on his elbows as he examined her newest piercing. “When did you get this?”
“Right after you left.” It wouldn’t do much for him, but each stroke of his finger over it, sent waves of pleasure through her.
“Is it safe for me to...”
“Yeah. It’s been in six weeks. We’re good.”
The heated look he gave her had her sinking against the pillows “Great,” his voice had dropped to a growl. “Because I want to eat you all night, and make you come in my mouth until the people in the next room call management.”
She was sooo down with that plan.
Especially when he grabbed a couple pillows and placed them beneath her hips, then bent his head over her. The softness of his hair as it fell over the tender inside skin of her thigh had her twitching. She couldn’t stop herself from arching at the comparison of the scruff of his beard.
“Stay still,” he warned. “But make as much noise as you want. I’ve been dying to hear those sexy little moans you make when you come.”
With that he dipped his head again and swiped his tongue down the seam of her sex. Maybe it was because she’d been abstinent for the last six weeks, but every touch, every stroke of his tongue, every nip of his teeth seemed magnified. Her whole world reduced to what he was doing to her. As he’d promised, he feasted on her, driving her up to the brink and pushing her over the edge the first time, then just to the border before backing off, again and again until she begged him to fuck her hard.
Just as she debated using her feet to push him off, flip him on his back and ride him hard, he lifted her hips and flipped her over, the pillows keeping her ass in the air. Two seconds later, he grabbed her hips hard and impaled her, filling her until his balls hit her clit with a single thrust.
Yes, oh yes, yes, yes... She might have chanted it out loud, she wasn’t sure. The friction as he withdrew and plunged back in once was all her sensitized tissues needed. Her orgasm rocketed through her.
Her lungs burning, she gasped for air as her body recovered, while he continued to pump hard and fast. She braced herself against the headboard as he relentlessly withdrew and pounded back in again, talking dirty the whole time. He reached down and toyed with her clit hood piercing, tugging lightly sending her back up again.
“Fuck, I’m not going to last long.” A thrust, another. On the third, he stiffened, staying deep inside her, his hips jerking as he gave in to his own pleasure.
His cock softening, he rolled off and flopped down beside her, pulling her into his arms. “Are you okay?”
“Fuck yeah. That was...great.” Fantastic. When can we do it again?
With the softest look in his eyes, he trailed a finger down her jaw and over to her ear, tracing the outside curve. “Why didn’t you tell me? Did you take some time off?” His smile disappeared as if someone had flicked an off switch and he lifted himself up on one elbow. “Is something wrong? Ben never said anything went wrong at the audit...”
The boneless relaxation that had possessed her just a minute go disappeared.
Oh, baby, there’s so much wrong. She stiffened before she could stop herself.
Breathe. Relax. Breathe again. She forced her shoulders down, consciously relaxed the muscles in her thighs and calves that had tightened.
Apart from losing her job, she was keeping a secret about Randy’s real relationship to Jake. Maybe she shouldn’t have promised Randy not to say anything until he’d had a chance to talk to Jake. But if she told Jake now, he might wig out, leave the tour and drive straight back to Texas to have a confrontation with Randy. Or he might decide never to return to Texas and she could lose him.
No, she’d stick to the original plan. He needed to hear it from Randy. Unless Randy wimped out after Jake got home. If he hadn’t shown up within the deadline she’d given him, she was going to whip out her phone and show Jake the photo she’d taken of the DNA test result seconds before Randy had found her.
Moving closer, she pressed a kiss to his forehead, hoping he missed the worry that must have been flickering on her face. “I quit my job at K&T this morning.”
His muscles stiffened beneath her fingers and anger filled his eyes. “Why? Did that Kligman guy give you a hard time about the audit or something?”
She smoothed her hand over his chest until he relaxed. “Bill was looking for a reason to get rid of me and he found one.”
“Bastard.”
She didn’t disagree. “I think it’s going to be a good thing for me to be cut loose. You know how I enrolled in that entertainment accounting course last month? Well, I hooked up online with an accounting firm in Austin and another here in Nashville that both specialize in entertainment accounting and they gave me some advice and some contacts. I need to take some more courses, but I think it’s a career that fits me better than working for K&T.” She caught a strand of her hair, held the pink end up and grinned. “I certainly fit in with the clientele better.”
“I hate that you lost your job, but I love that you’re here with me. I’ve missed you.”
“I missed you too. Oh, I forgot to tell you. I left Pebbles and Brewskie with Ben. I hope that’s okay.”
He settled back among the pillows, a smug satisfied look on his face as he pulled her against him. “Yeah. He’ll make sure they’re looked after. Although Allie might fall in love with Pebbles and I might have trouble getting her back.”
“She wouldn’t love Brewskie?”
“I doubt Brewskie is in danger of endearing himself to Allie any time soon.” His mouth quirked up at one side. “You’ve been around him for, what, a couple months now? You know how he can stink up a room and then look around and pretend he didn’t do it.”
“True. But he’s still cute. I would totally keep him if you didn’t want him anymore.”
“I’ll remind you of that next time he lets one go.”
She giggled and nestled in the crook of his arm, feeling like her world was back in order.
* * *
Something was wrong, he just couldn’t figure out why Paige wouldn’t tell him straight out. Maybe Ben had a clue—as soon as he had a chance he’d phone him or text him. She’d told him more about her plans for her future, but when she’d talked about the audit, her tone had changed, grown cautious. Like she was hiding something. Of course, maybe he was reading too much into it, and talking about the audit reminded her how she’d lost her job. Before he could ask her about it, there was a knock on the door.
“Jake?” Cam. “I don’t mean to cock block but Phil’s here. He figured we should have a sit down before we’re all crammed in the trailer together.”
Shit. Talk about bad
timing.
Another knock. More hesitant this time. “Jake? Are you in there, dude? We’re down in the restaurant. I know you want to make up for lost time with your lady, but I think you need to come down.”
Fuck.
Paige touched his arm. “It’s all right. I can stay up here while you meet this Phil guy.”
“Nah, you can come down too. I’d like you to meet him, see if you can get a read off him.” He raised his voice. “Yeah, we’ll be down in ten, Cam.”
As they got dressed, Paige asked, “So who is Phil, and what do you want me to look for?”
“He’s Drew’s replacement. Just see if there’s anything weird about him. If you think he might have some sort of abuse problem like Drew.”
Paige stopped in the middle of pulling on her boot. “You managed to convince Hunter finally? How’d he take it?”
“About as you’d expect. The big showdown happened right before you arrived—that’s what we’d been doing when we got off the elevator.”
“That had to be hard. For all of you.”
“Yeah. It was.” They found Cam sitting with Drew’s potential replacement in the restaurant—it was easy to find them considering there were only two other tables occupied.
“Phil, this is Paige, my girlfriend. She’s going to be joining us for a while. Paige, this is Phil Demitri, our new drummer.”
“Hi, Phil.”
As the waitress slid their dinners on the table, Jake caught a glimpse of Hunter escorting Drew out the front door, his arm around his friend’s shoulders, their heads together and some of his contentment leached away.
When Phil and Paige started discussing their families, and their reactions to the announcement they were going on the road, guilt at how he hadn’t talked to his mother since he’d left crept in, anger too. And, as much as it surprised him to admit, jealousy. Paige’s father hadn’t claimed her until she was seven, but she’d always known exactly who her father was. Though he’d been reluctant, he had taken her in and cared for her finally. Cam’s father had been there from day one—Cam was his spitting image, just a younger version. Hell, they even laughed the same way. From the sounds of it though his parents were divorced, Phil’s father had always supported him too.
Did his real father have any clue he existed? Did Jake have brothers or sisters he didn’t even know about? Nephews, nieces? Did his father look anything like Jake? If he passed him in the street would he recognize him? What if he’d already met him and didn’t realize it?
Chapter Twenty-Two
The rhythmic crashing of the Atlantic Ocean as it pounded onto the shore lulled Paige from her seat on the balcony eighteen floors above the sandy beach. After two and half weeks of life in a tiny trailer surrounded by four guys, Paige reveled in the suite in a failed time-share condo that had been turned into a hotel.
For the next week, they had a kitchen, full bathroom complete with both bath and shower stall, a living room with a flat screen television that kept the guys happy, a balcony overlooking the ocean, and best of, all three bedrooms—since she’d laid down her credit card to foot the bill, she and Jake claimed the master bedroom, while Cam and Hunter each claimed a double bed in one bedroom, and Phil took the third.
Four days here and she’d not gotten to sleep before 5:00 a.m. or gotten up before noon once. Okay, so she and Jake had fallen into bed by two every night, but after being apart for six weeks, they had a lot of lovin’ to make up for.
“How the hell do soldiers’ spouses go without sex for six months and more?” she muttered.
“Huh?” Jake strummed a new bridge, then frowned and scribbled a note on the sheet music. Another couple of bars and he scratched out what he’d written and turned the page. “I’m missing something.”
“I’m not.” She reached over to stroke his arm, her muscles lax after she’d woken Jake up with a bout of wake-up sex.
His forehead wrinkled for a second before his confusion cleared. “Oh. Yeah. Gotcha. I’m glad you’re here too.” He turned his free hand over, twined his fingers with her and gave a light squeeze, then frowned again and held up his notes. “No, I meant this section. There’s something missing. It’s almost there, but...it needs something. I just can’t figure out what.”
“Maybe something will come to you if you sing the whole thing through for me.”
He was halfway through the song when his phone rang. “Fuck.”
Irritated at the interruption, Paige picked up his phone and checked the caller ID. “Unknown number. It’s probably a telemarketer.”
She let it ring through, only to have it start ringing before she could set the phone down on the plastic table between them. “Keep working. I’ll get rid of whoever it is.”
Once she was back in the living room of the suite she slid the patio door closed and accepted the call, fully intending whoever it was to fuck off. “Jake Grady’s phone.”
“Howdy, darlin’. I’m looking for Jake. Is he around?” The man’s slow southern drawl calmed Paige’s ire.
“No, he’s busy writing right now. I’m his...assistant. Can I help you?” Why did his voice sound so familiar?
“Well, I’d be mighty obliged if you interrupted him. I got his number from Stan Coleman of Southern Gents Records.”
Okay, so he was reputable and not some stalker if Stan gave him Jake’s number. “I’ll ask.” She stepped out onto the balcony and waved for Jake’s attention. “Can I tell him who’s calling, please?”
“Sure, darlin’, tell him it’s CJ McGarray. I’m pretty sure he’ll want to talk to me.”
“Holy fuck.” She caught her breath. “Sorry, I didn’t mean that. I just...” She stared at Jake and narrowed her eyes. “Wait a minute. Is this some type of prank call? Or am I really talking with CJ McGarray?”
Jake’s eyebrows snapped up to his hairline, and his guitar pick dropped from his fingers, bounced off the cement floor twice and over the edge.
CJ chuckled. “You’d be surprised how often I hear that. Yes, it’s really me. You can call Stan to confirm it. I can call back in like thirty minutes if you want.”
“No.” Like she’d let him hang up. For all she knew he wouldn’t phone back. “It’s okay. I believe you.”
“Good. Good.” He paused as if waiting for something. “Darlin’? You were gonna give Jake the phone, remember?”
Oh crap. His soft laughter told her she must have said it aloud. What a doofus she must be coming across. “Yes, of course. Here he is.”
Jake snatched the phone she held out, the notepad tumbling to the floor. With a gasp, Paige launched herself from her plastic lawn chair and caught it before it followed his guitar pick and tumbled onto the beach. Clutching the spiral bound book to her chest, she perched on the edge of her chair and tried not to eavesdrop. Okay, she totally tried to hear the conversation but Jake’s side was a series of Yeahs and Uh huhs punctuated with long pauses.
“Of course, I’d love to come over. Any time.” Another pause. “A half hour is great. Sure, I can be ready by then.” He glanced up at Paige. “Is it okay if I bring my girlfriend with me?”
Paige held her breath at his audacity. Her knees weakened and she sank onto her chair until Jake nodded and gave her a thumbs up.
Exactly thirty-five minutes later, she was sitting in the back of a stretch limo, complete with liveried driver, a small television and a bar. Changed from the board shorts he’d been wearing to a clean pair of dress pants and blue plaid shirt beneath a black hooded jacket he’d left unzipped, Jake clung to her hand with an iron grip, and she absently wondered if he was aware of the rhumba his right leg was doing.
“Breathe,” she reminded him, taking a deep breath herself. “Remember, you’re in charge of your own destiny.”
“No. I’m not.” Jake wiped his free hand on his thigh. “Right now
CJ McGarray is in complete control of my career. Hell, everyone else is. I’m just... I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing here, Paige. I’m in over my head.”
“That’s why you have an agent. Just enjoy the moment, sweetie.”
As he’d been changing, he’d told her that Stan had forwarded their demo songs to CJ, who had decided he liked one and wanted to discuss recording it himself. A huge deal for Jake as a songwriter, though it might not help his own singing career. When he learned Jake was in Myrtle Beach at the same time as him, CJ had decided to meet him and discuss his concerns in person. Talk about good timing.
Paige’s nerves jangled as the limo pulled up beneath a trio of palm trees in front of an oceanside villa. Holy crap, it looked like some house out of Gone with the Wind on stilts. Thick white-painted beams held up the wrap around porch on each of the three levels, overlooking a long stretch of sand dune and beyond the same rhythmic crash she’d been listening to on their balcony.
The moment the chauffeur got out of the car and rounded the hood, Jake blew out a shaky breath and murmured, “Holy crap, what am I doing here?”
He shut his mouth the moment the door open, plastered on a smile, handed his guitar case to the driver before climbing out himself. He widened his eyes in a “help me” expression as he reached back to help Paige from the limo. She placed her palm in his, his pulse racing even faster than her own.
Once Paige stood on the sidewalk, the driver handed Jake his guitar, closed the limo door, then gestured toward the house. “This way please, sir, madam.”
“You’ll do fine. Just be yourself,” she whispered as they followed the driver to the front door.
The chauffeur opened the door and gestured them in. “Mr. McGarray’s in the back room. I phoned ahead to let him know you’re here. Just follow the hallway straight back.”
The hallway opened into a massive room with overstuffed furniture and garish brown and gold wallpaper that dated back to the seventies. The only thing he liked about the room was the lanai doors that left an entire wall open so it felt like they were right on the beach even though they were inside.