Not Just Another Romance Novel

by Lisa Suzanne

  Jesus.

  His eyes locked onto mine. His were friendly and gentle despite the heat he packed with his body flush against me.

  I was two seconds from tearing his clothes off when he finally spoke, his voice low and gritty.

  “You gotta give a guy a chance to open the door for his girl.”

  Oh shit. I was his girl now?

  Challenge accepted.

  I was breathless when I spoke. “I think I prefer this.”

  He chuckled softly, and then he leaned his head down. But instead of kissing me, he rested his forehead against mine.

  “I think I prefer this, too. I like you, Piper.” His breath was warm against my lips. I just needed two more inches for our lips to connect. Or less. I’d never been good with measurements.

  “I bet you say that to all the girls.” I tried to keep things light, but he made it difficult.

  “Trust me. I don’t.”

  Somehow I did trust him. I believed him.

  Mostly because I felt like he was struggling with something. If he was really the guy Austin claimed he was, he would’ve had me naked and begging by now.

  But instead, he’d treated me to a wonderful date, he’d been friendly and gentlemanly, and he’d taken things relatively slowly even with the obvious hot undercurrent between us.

  I had a sneaking suspicion about the struggle he was facing.

  And I was pretty sure it was the same struggle I was facing.

  I wanted him to bang me until the sun came up. But another equal part of me also wanted to take things slowly, to see what could come of the two of us.

  I liked him much more than a one night fling. I wanted to see him again.

  And based on the signals he’d been sending me pretty much the entire night, I knew the feeling was mutual.

  He backed away quickly and discreetly adjusted himself. He muttered something under his breath, and then he linked his fingers through mine, just like he had all night long, and the two of us headed into his place.

  “D-Hunt!” An attractive guy with longish dark hair and dark eyes who’d clearly had too much to drink stood in the entryway as we walked in. I glanced around. The house was nice for three guys. The front door opened into an open floor plan. A family room sat to my left, housing a huge television, a couch, a loveseat, and some mismatched recliners. The kitchen was on the right. People hung out in the family room, and a few more people sat around a small kitchen table playing poker. There were about ten or twelve people in all hanging out in the house.

  “Drunk already, Brody?” Dax asked with a grin.

  Brody walked toward us. “You bet your ass. Who’s the broad?”

  “Dude, seriously? Broad?”

  I did my best to look offended, but it was just a word. It didn’t bother me. In fact, it kind of made me giggle a little.

  “Sorry. Who’s the lassie?”

  I rolled my eyes at Brody. “Piper Andrews,” I said.

  “Is this the one Austin hooked you up with?” he asked, and Dax nodded.

  “Nice to meet you, Piper.” He stuck his hand out, and I shook it. He took a big gulp from his pint glass. It held ice mixed with amber liquid and possibly a splash of soda. “Did you kids have a nice date?”

  Dax nodded. “It was good.”

  That word again. Good.

  “Well, you’re back here, so it couldn’t have been too bad!” Brody said, giving Dax an exaggerated wink.

  “Shut the fuck up, Brody.”

  I giggled at the boys.

  “Come on,” he said, tugging on my hand. I followed him through the family room, up some stairs, and through the second door on the left.

  And then we were in Dax-land. Or D-Hunt-land.

  Dax kicked off his shoes. “Can I get you anything? Wine? Water?”

  “Wine sounds fantastic, D-Hunt.”

  He chuckled. “I really hate Brody sometimes.”

  I laughed as he headed out the door. “Be right back,” he called behind him.

  I studied his room while he was gone, memorizing every last detail.

  It was clearly a bedroom belonging to a musician. The walls were decorated with a variety of musical memorabilia—signed photographs, guitars, even a collection of guitar picks mounted and framed.

  His queen bed was a messy mass of green sheets topped with a charcoal comforter. The bed clearly hadn’t been made in a while.

  One wall had four different guitars leaning up against it. He had black furniture—a dresser, headboard, night table, and entertainment setup. I studied the top of his dresser. It seemed like a good place to learn a lot about him. For starters, I learned he wore Armani cologne. Only one photo adorned the dresser—an action shot of Dax on stage. I wondered about his family.

  The last thing I spotted on my tour of the rock star’s bedroom was the leather recliner in the corner that looked like the most comfortable chair ever made. I sat in it and leaned back, closing my eyes.

  Yep. Definitely the most comfortable chair ever made.

  “Did you fall asleep on me?” His voice rasped close to my ear.

  My eyes flew open.

  Oh my God.

  I wanted to do more than fall asleep on him.

  He held a glass of wine and a bottle of beer, and he passed the glass to me. I took a rather large, unladylike gulp before thanking him.

  He nodded and sat on the bed.

  On. The. Bed.

  I wanted to join him there, but instead I stayed in my chair and drank my wine.

  “We can go downstairs if you want, but I figured it would be quieter up here.”

  I nodded. “So D-Hunt?”

  He chuckled. “My last name is Hunter. Brody has called me that forever. He’s also called me other more graphic names.”

  “Such as?”

  “His favorite is D-Cunt.”

  “Lovely.”

  “His name rhymes with chode. He doesn’t have much room to make fun of someone’s name.”

  I giggled. “So where did you meet the other guys in the band?”

  “I went to school with Brody and Adam. Kane and Rascal were in another band, and we met at a music school, actually. I was taking voice lessons, and Rascal was taking a keyboard class. We met in the shop one day and got to talking. He and Kane were sick of the drama in their band, so they joined ours. The rest is history.”

  I took another sip of my wine, and I realized my glass was almost empty. “Where do you see it all going?”

  “We’re fine with the way things are, but if we hit it big someday, none of us would complain.”

  “How long have you been together?”

  “We’ve been with Kane and Rascal for a little over five years.”

  “And you’ve been with Brody and Adam since middle school?”

  He nodded.

  “So like ten years?”

  He chugged down some of his beer. “Closer to twelve.”

  “How old are you?”

  “Twenty-four.”

  “Do you have any other jobs?”

  He shook his head. “I’m lucky, and I know that. We’ve got pretty much nightly gigs, and it pays the bills.”

  “Takes a lot of commitment, though. Giving up every weekend?”

  He shrugged. “Doesn’t feel like a commitment when you’re doing what you love, sweets.”

  I thought about how true those words were. He could’ve been talking about a relationship as easily as he was talking about his career. He was absolutely right.

  I finished my wine and set it on the night table beside me. “Want more?” he asked, nodding toward my glass.

  My head had that fuzzy haze that came with drinking just a little too much. I shook my head. “I’m okay.” I thought about asking for a glass of water, but I didn’t want to seem like the nerdy girl who needed to filter her wine with water.

  He drained the rest of his beer and held it up. Then he stood. “You sure? I’m heading down for another beer.”

  “Okay. One mo
re glass. And maybe some water.”

  He grinned, and my panties melted.

  While he was gone, I checked my phone. I had missed multiple texts while I’d been out on my date.

  Shannon’s was first. Send me a pic of the rock god. I giggled. I wondered what she’d do if I actually sent her one.

  Austin’s was second. Have fun tonight, but be careful with him. His warning was sort of a wet blanket on my libido. The wine had made my brain fuzzy enough that I hadn’t really been thinking about the possible detriments that could come of the night. Austin’s text reminded me I didn’t really know Dax. I didn’t really know what he was after.

  All I had to go on was how I felt when I was with him.

  And I felt good.

  I chuckled at my own assessment.

  Good seemed to be Dax’s word, not mine.

  Another text from my mom asked when I planned to come home for Thanksgiving.

  I noticed the absence of a text from Scott. I pushed him out of my mind. I refused to allow the random thoughts popping into my head to ruin my date with Dax.

  I couldn’t.

  I needed this date.

  For research purposes, of course.

  He returned with my wine, a bottle of beer, and a glass of ice water.

  I observed the way his body moved lithely across the room. He really was too attractive for words.

  He set all the drinks on the night table, and then he held his hand out to me.

  I took it, not sure what his intentions were. He pulled me up out of the comfy chair. I stood while he walked over to some entertainment system. He fiddled with it for a minute, pressing buttons and adjusting knobs.

  And then soft music filtered through the air, drowning out the sound of the music and voices below us. I didn’t recognize the song, but it had a smooth sound and a slow, hypnotic beat.

  Dax turned toward me. I tried to read his face, to figure out his emotions, but I was at a loss. I didn’t know him well enough yet to be able to read him.

  But there was definitely something there.

  “Dance with me?” he asked softly.

  I nodded and he wrapped his hands around my waist. I linked my arms around his neck.

  His scent enveloped me again. His eyes met mine. It should’ve been awkward, but he made me feel comfortable.

  “This feels…good,” he said.

  The corners of my lips turned up. “You like that word.”

  He nodded. “I do.”

  “You told me I looked good earlier. Then you said the strawberries were good. Then you told Brody our date was good. It loses its meaning after a while.”

  He looked serious. “Not to me.”

  “I put a lot of work into looking amazing for you, and all I got was a good.” If I hadn’t sucked down all the wine, I was pretty sure this confession would’ve stayed in my brain. But there it was, pouring out of me like a desperate, weak girl fishing for a compliment.

  Maybe I was.

  But more than that, I was curious as to why he’d used such a generic word for three important parts of our date.

  “You do look amazing, Piper.” His voice turned husky. “You are amazing.”

  He leaned in and touched his forehead to mine, just like he had out by his car. But this time we were clutching one another, our bodies swaying gently to the soft beat coming through his speakers.

  “So are you,” I whispered.

  He backed his head up, but our bodies were dancing slowly as one. “Sometimes it takes me three weeks to find the right word for a song. I write music, but I’m not always the best at expressing what I feel. So whenever I find something out of this world, I call it good.”

  My breath caught in my throat at his words. He thought I was out of this world?

  He kept talking before I had a chance to say something. “Everyone calls everything amazing these days. You are amazing. You’re also beautiful and funny and intelligent. In one night, you’ve made me laugh, you’ve made me think, and most of all, you’ve made me feel.”

  His words were filled with sincerity, but I could also see the nervous anxiety fueling his speech.

  “Well I think you’re pretty good, too,” I said softly.

  He chuckled. “I have a confession for you,” he said tentatively.

  I raised an eyebrow as we swayed gently to the music, but I didn’t say anything.

  “I wasn’t expecting anything out of this date. Austin told me to be nice to you, and I promised him I would. But Jesus, a man can only be so nice with those big brown eyes staring up innocently at him all night. I don’t want to be nice anymore.”

  “I have a confession, too.”

  He gazed down at me and everything inside of me clenched in anticipation.

  “I don’t want you to be nice anymore, either.” It was a clear invitation that he was welcome to do whatever he pleased. I’d be a willing participant in all of it.

  A devilish grin passed across his lips, and it was the last thing I saw before I closed my eyes and tilted my head up toward his.

  His lips met mine, much like they had in the middle of the sidewalk earlier, but this time it didn’t end after a few brief seconds.

  This time, his soft, full lips moved with force over my own. One of his hands came up to cup my cheek, and then his mouth opened leisurely to mine. His tongue met mine with a relaxed confidence, one that told me he’d been told he was a good kisser before.

  Because he was.

  He was a damn good kisser.

  The best I’d ever experienced, hands down.

  My hands came down from around his neck to grasp his upper arms. I needed to hold on, because his kiss made me dizzy.

  Good God, if just his kiss made me dizzy, I didn’t want to even begin to think about what medical issues he may cause if he took this further than kissing.

  The hand cupping my cheek grazed a slow, torturous line down my body, eventually landing on my hip as he somehow deepened our kiss. His mouth still moved with easy leisure, but everything kicked up in intensity.

  I felt his fingers digging into my hip, and I got the feeling he was trying to hold himself back. But I didn’t want him to hold back. I wanted him to attack me, to prove to me he wasn’t just being nice because Austin had told him to be.

  And I wanted to attack him right back.

  I wanted clothes flying off in all directions.

  I wasn’t thinking clearly, but even without the wine, I knew I’d feel the same way. I was pretty sure I’d felt that way since I’d first seen the picture of Dax Hunter on Austin’s phone.

  I felt Dax stepping backward, pulling me with him. He landed on the bed, sitting, his lips never leaving mine as he pulled me down with him.

  I settled my knees on either side of his legs, straddling his lap as I still held onto his upper arms. He thrust upward just once, and I couldn’t help the moan that pushed up out of my chest.

  A soft, low groan rumbled up from him, completely destroying any possible chance of me denying anything he asked me.

  It was the sexiest sound I’d ever heard a human being make, and I had caused it.

  Everything about Dax was ridiculously sexy, but having the ability to cause that sound made me feel like the most powerful woman in the world.

  He slowed our kiss and stopped it, pressing his closed lips to mine softly just once before leaning back to look up at me. His eyes were hooded and full of uninhibited lust. His lips were pink and swollen from kissing me. His cheeks were flushed. He ran a hand through his hair. It did that thing where it fell back into perfect disarray.

  And he had to be the most beautiful man in the entire world.

  I smiled down at him, pleased that our kiss had the same effect on him as it had on me.

  “Dammit.” His voice was raspy and full of hunger and desire. “If I don’t stop now, I won’t stop.” A look crossing somewhere between guilt and apprehension crossed his face.

  “I don’t want you to stop.”

  He
fell backward onto the bed. I still straddled his lap. His hands rested on the sides of my thighs. He moved his fingertips slowly up my legs, treading just under the skirt of my dress before moving back down into safer territory.

  “I don’t want to stop.”

  I climbed down from on top of him, a feeling of defeat and embarrassment spreading into my chest.

  I sat on the bed beside him. I felt his fingertips on my back. He sat up next to me, put his arm around me, and then fell back again, dragging me with him so my head was cradled in the nook of his arm.

  “But I have to.”

  God, that scent. I couldn’t get over how amazing this man smelled.

  Even as he was in the midst of denying me, I still noted how good he smelled.

  “You don’t have to do anything except pay taxes and die.” It was a line my dad had used a million times. Probably cheesier than the moment called for, but I needed something to lighten the mood after the horrible denial.

  He chuckled. “Pay taxes, die, and pull back a second to take this a little slower with you.”

  I gazed up at him. He stared up at the ceiling. His face had contorted into a mask of regret. I glanced over at his broad chest. My hand moved of its own accord as it came up and started tracing a pattern on the shirt covering his chest. “Why?”

  “Because I really, really like you. And I’m not going to fuck it up by moving too fast.”

  “What if I told you it wouldn’t fuck things up?”

  “It will. Trust me.”

  “How do you know?”

  He threw his arm over his eyes. “Because you’re good. You know? All the others, I knew they weren’t good for me. That’s what I wanted. But you confuse me. You are more than one night, and if I keep kissing you, if we take it further, if we have sex…you’ll be in the same category as all the others. You don’t belong there.”

  My heart stuttered in my chest.

  He didn’t want to have sex with me because he liked me?

  I leaned up over him. His arm still covered his eyes. I pulled his arm because I wanted to see his eyes. I wanted to know his words were sincere, that this wasn’t some ploy by a player to get me into his bed.

  And when my eyes met his, I saw the confusion mixed with pain and desire and need.

  I saw everything I needed to see.

  I leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to his lips.