A Little Night Music

by Andrea Dale

  He started to speak, but she held up one hand, stopping him.

  “I know you’re clean now, but I’ve seen a lot in this business and I know that the pressures will pile up. If you feel the need for a pick-me-up, I want to know. If you get drunk and pass out in an alley, I want to know about it before the press does. And if you stay sober, I need to know that too. I can’t work for you if I don’t know what I’m going to get hit with.”

  The world tightened to a single point of contact with his eyes. “I need honesty, Nate, and I won’t settle for anything less.”

  The moment stretched, and she felt certain that he was going to get up and walk out. But he didn’t. He gave a tiny, almost imperceptible nod. She nodded back, relieved more than she’d expected to be. They’d reached an agreement.

  A shoji screen slid soundlessly back, admitting the server with a tray of miso soup and the bottles of wine and sake that they’d ordered. She began to ladle the soup into individual bowls, the steam sending tantalizing wafts of spices into the room.

  Nate leaned towards Hannah, taking the opportunity to speak quietly while Gina and Sam were occupied with the woman’s motions. “You impress me.”

  “What is this with ‘i’ words?” she murmured, taking another sip of tea and keeping eye contact with him. “I’m infamous, intriguing, impressive.…”

  He moved so that his lips were next to her ear. His breath was warm, raising goose bumps along the sensitive flesh of her neck. She had to put her tea down so he wouldn’t see her hands shake.

  “Intoxicating,” he said. “Igniting.” His tongue flicked out and slid against her earlobe. “Impassioned.”

  Hannah stifled a whimper by biting on her lower lip, which, she realized, was probably even more enticing.

  Nate Fox was coming on to her. To her.

  She hadn’t anticipated the tables being turned on her. She’d figured she’d do her job, get to know him, and seduce him at some point along the way. Ideally she’d tease him until he was a helpless slave to her desires.

  The fact that he was seducing her was an incredible aphrodisiac. She shifted in her seat so that her leg was brushing against his again. The nylon of her stocking slithered against the leather of his pants.

  “You can tell all that from just one meeting?” she asked. She was trying not to think about sliding under the table. She loved the smell of leather.

  “First impressions are crucial,” he said, pressing his thigh against hers. “Plus, you’re infamous, remember? You have a knack for turning the bad into something good, and you seem to bring out the best in people. You inspire musicians. There’s another “i” word. I’m sure people have been dying to know how you do it.”

  “Music is a passion of mine, but I’ll freely admit I’m crap at it,” Hannah said. “Can’t sing, can’t play an instrument. The best I can do is dance to it. But I knew I wanted to be a part of it somehow. I realized that there are so many incredible musicians and bands out there that never get a break, despite their talent, and I wanted to help. Plus—” she lifted one shoulder in an artless shrug “—I’m good at what I do. I can think fast, talk fast, and put a spin on something so fast it’ll leave you breathless.”

  She wanted to make him breathless. She wanted him gasping her name as she—oh no, not going there. She had to get control of this or she would lose her mind.

  She shifted away just a little. She had to catch her breath, and Gina had turned to look at her, curiosity in her green eyes.

  “I’ve always been curious about the song “Winter King” from your first album,” Hannah said, grabbing at the first thing she could find. It was true she’d always wondered about the song. “I absolutely love the time change in the chorus. What prompted you to write it that way?”

  The amused glitter in Nate’s eyes told her he knew exactly why she’d changed the subject. One long finger traced the weave in the linen tablecloth, while his leg continued to press against hers beneath the table. “I wanted the feeling of melancholy that winter brings out in so many people. I wanted to keep the listener unsure of what was coming next. I wanted them haunted by the images of ice and death.”

  “That’s a good image,” Hannah said. “I always felt a little sad listening to it.” She scooped a generous amount of wasabi into the small ceramic bowl in front of her, then added just enough soy sauce to make the concoction liquid. She stirred it idly with one blue-painted chopstick. She noticed Nate watching her actions.

  “I like it this way,” she said. “Very refreshing.” And very hot. But saying that would be just too over the top, wouldn’t it? The motion of his thigh was maddening. He had so much energy… She imagined that sex with him would be the same: relentless. The dull ache between her legs throbbed with her heartbeat.

  Thankfully their meals arrived then, before she took the thought any further and had to go to the bathroom to wring out her thong. She sighed at the plate full of California rolls and spicy crab rolls.

  She reached for one. “I never could handle chopsticks,” she said conversationally as she picked up a roll with her fingers and dunked it generously into the bowl. Raising it to her mouth, she bit into it, swallowed, then slid the second half into her mouth. She let a soft sigh of gratification break from her lips.

  It had the intended effect on Nate. When she licked the wasabi off her fingers, he looked away, ducking his head so that his dark hair fell in his eyes. She saw his throat convulse as he swallowed.

  “So Gina, what got you into photography?” Sam asked.

  “I wanted a backstage pass to an ’N Sync concert.”

  Sam sputtered into his sake.

  Gina laughed. “No, really. I talked my way backstage with a camera I borrowed from my dad and a press pass a friend copied from one he saw online. I was lucky that security sucked. No one bothered to look too closely. I got to meet the band, I got some cool shots.” She shrugged. “I was hooked.”

  Sam raised his cup. “Here’s to ingenuity.”

  They joined him in his toast, enjoying the easy laughter.

  Hannah found herself relaxing, the tension of the day slowly seeping from her shoulders. Things were going to be okay.

  Then Nate’s hand came to rest on her knee, lingering a moment before starting a slow trip upwards. She forgot how to breathe when he found the lace edge of her stocking. If he kept that up, she would never be able to keep her hands off of him. Then his fingers started to move again, exploring along the edge of the lace, slipping just underneath, running his fingertips along the sensitive flesh of her upper thigh. The sensation turned her bones to liquid, and she had to bite her bottom lip to keep from moaning.

  Hannah gripped the stem of the wine glass to keep her hand from trembling. She took a hefty swallow. If his fingers drifted any higher, if he touched the place that ached for him so badly, she was going to come, right there at the table. Gina would never let her live it down.

  Besides, they had to leave something for later. And she was very much afraid that later would come sooner than she’d planned.

  She’d known all along that where Nate was concerned her common sense went right out of the window, and it was beginning to look like her professionalism was going to join it.

  Hannah refused to let him know just how tempted she was to ask the others to leave so that she could climb onto his lap and taste his mouth with hers. She pressed her thighs together, hard, trapping his hand, and blithely ate another piece of sushi. She covered his fingers with hers, boldly sliding his hand farther up her thigh, to a point where he could feel the heat radiating from her crotch. She could hear his breathing change, a little more ragged now, though he tried to cover it by wiping his mouth with his napkin.

  Placing his hand firmly back on his own lap, Hannah curled her fingers into the lacing of his pants. She tugged gently. He was hard and thick beneath her fingers, and she smiled appreciatively. Then it was his turn to grab her wrist and remove her hand.

  She retaliated by offering him a piec
e of sushi. He somehow managed to trap her fingers in his mouth, sucking gently before letting her go. Her nipples tingled, wanting to receive the same attention. The way he flicked his tongue against her fingertips was a promise of things to come. Namely her.

  Gina coughed, and kicked her in the side of her foot. Heat slipped into Hannah’s cheeks as she realized she and Nate had become the entertainment portion of the meal. But she still couldn’t keep from smiling, even as she deftly found something else innocuous to talk about.

  The dinner meeting ended soon thereafter. As they walked to the front door, Nate put his hand on Hannah’s arm and slowed her pace. He drew her close to his side, taking possession of her space.

  “How about a nightcap?” he asked. “I know a great wine bar a few blocks away.”

  A chance to have a private drink with Nate Fox? Like there was any question.

  Hannah leaned into him a little, and nodded. Slipping out of his grasp, she walked out the door that Sam was holding for her. Snagging Gina, Hannah drew her to one side, whispering the change of plans.

  “Oh, there’s a big surprise,” Gina said.

  “I’ll let you know just how big, tomorrow,” Hannah said giddily.

  Gina snorted and got into the limo that was waiting curbside.

  Hannah and Nate stood outside the restaurant and watched the limo pull away. She shivered a little. A hint of fog had rolled in, cooling the night air.

  “There’s no wine bar, is there?” Hannah asked, tipping her head back to look at him.

  “Nope,” he confessed. His arm was around her waist, his fingers resting warmly against the underside of her breast.

  “We’re going to your place, aren’t we?”

  “Yep.”

  “Your intentions with me aren’t at all honorable, are they?”

  He smiled, left eyebrow arching.

  She couldn’t help but smile back, even as she said, “Do you sleep with all your publicists, Mr. Fox?”

  “Only the intoxicating ones.”

  “And how was your working relationship with them afterwards?”

  “I don’t usually think that far ahead,” he said. “I tend to act on impulse.”

  His thumb slowly stroked the curve of her breast, a light touch, but one that made it hard for her to concentrate.

  “Well, I’ll still be working for you come tomorrow,” she managed, trying desperately to talk them both out of this. “It’s my job to think ahead.”

  He moved in front of her, tipped her chin up with gentle fingers so there was no way for her to escape his gaze. “It’s obvious that we’re attracted to each other. See?”

  This time, he initiated the kiss.

  This time, she knew what to do.

  After all of the flirting and teasing, she wouldn’t have thought a mere kiss could do so much. But the touch of his lips against hers added fuel to the embers, and heat flared.

  Heat, and burning desire.

  He caressed, teased, and then deepened the kiss, claiming her. Her hands splayed across his strong back, pulling him closer. Their bodies molded together. She met his tongue, and all she could imagine was it elsewhere on her body, urging her to higher levels of passion and need until she…

  He drew away. She could feel his heart pounding, knew he was just as aroused as she. Good. It gave her a moment to recover. She licked her lips, and his eyes followed the movement.

  “You see what I mean?” he asked. “Can we work effectively if we’re constantly…distracted?”

  “I can see where it might become a problem.” Hannah nodded slowly. Light from a nearby street lamp threw silver into his hair, made shadows pool in his eyes. “So, you’re suggesting we should get it out of our systems.”

  “Exactly.”

  She took a deep breath. She hadn’t intended for it to happen so quickly.

  But she’d been planning this, waiting for this for nine years. Waiting, and wanting.

  Now want was rapidly turning into need.

  She reached up and toyed with the silky strands of his hair. Nine years. “Then what are we waiting for?” she asked.

  Chapter Three

  His house was a short walk away, in a tree-lined district of Victorian homes. Inside, Hannah got a brief glimpse of the décor—red walls and wooden beams, stained-glass panels above the doors. A music room was visible through an archway, complete with a black baby grand and a row of guitars. Nate led her, unprotesting, up the sweep of stairs, his fingers linked with hers.

  Hannah was so aroused that she was breathless by the time they reached the second floor. Part of her kept insisting that it was too soon, she needed to keep her professional life in focus. The other part of her, the part that was panting with hunger, could only think of Nate, and the teenage vow she’d made so many years ago. They were just at the doorway to his bedroom. She caught a glimpse of a wide four-poster bed before he pushed her against the doorjamb and kissed her.

  Hard.

  Hannah knew, vaguely, that it was the final test. Her last chance to protest, to back out. Say the word, push him away, and that would be the end of it.

  The wooden edge of the door pushed into her back, sharp and unyielding. Nate’s body was just as solid, his heat warming her, causing flames to lap at her self-control. He wanted her.

  Nate Fox wanted her.

  Anyone else, and she could have maintained her professional decorum, but the heady realization of his desire for her had shut down her thought processes.

  The shaggy hair at the sides of his head was soft, and she wove her fingers through it to pull him deeper into the kiss, just as she’d done as a teenager. This time, however, he kissed her much harder, until he was bruising her lips. She matched him, kiss for kiss, curling one leg around his calf. She could feel his arousal pressing into her stomach, and she rocked her hips to pleasure them both. The low growl he made was gratifying, the hands that tightened on her hips even more so.

  They broke apart, gasping. “Breathe,” Nate crooned. His mouth was temptingly close, and she leaned forward to run the tip of her tongue across his bottom lip.

  “Why?” Hannah asked, his taste lingering in her mouth. Spices and desire. Sin and satisfaction. “Aren’t you trying to make me pass out?”

  He laughed huskily. He nuzzled her throat, teeth scraping gently just above her pulse. “Not just yet,” he said. “There’s a lot more I intend to do to you before I let you rest.”

  “Promise?”

  “Hell, yes.” He dragged her into the room. A tall lamp in the corner was lit, illuminating the bed with its headboard and footboard of wrought-iron vertical posts, the corners ending in what looked like crystal balls. The sheets and bedspread were pristine white.

  Hannah clawed at the buttons on his silk shirt, opening it nearly to the waist before pressing her lips to the smooth flesh that was revealed. A light dusting of hair swirled around his nipples. Her fingernails trailed through it, following it down to his belt. He pulled the rest of the shirt out of his waistband and tore it off over his head. It caught on one of his wrists, and he brought the silk up to rub against her cheek. She moaned.

  Nate’s fingers fumbled with the tie at the back of her jacket, and when it fell apart he ripped the garment off her shoulders, dragging it down her arms. It flew, landing somewhere on the floor. She didn’t care. The evergreen lace cami followed, eased over her head with a speed she found exciting. He took her breasts in his hands and pressed his mouth to them, nuzzling the deep valley between.

  Hannah tipped her head back, her eyes closed as she savored the sensations. Her body demanded more, moving restlessly in his hands. She was desperate for his mouth to give her what she needed, and she was shocked to hear herself beg. Nate’s thumbs flicked the nipples that were outlined against the lace. Before she could react to the liquid ache his caress sent curling through her veins, his mouth closed over her, suckling her nipples through the material. The sensation filled her with heat.

  Hannah grabbed his hair agai
n; it seemed like the only thing holding her up as her knees started to buckle. He realized, and caught her, only to slide down the zipper of her skirt so that it parted and fell to the floor. She managed to kick it away.

  He backed up then, just a few paces, and stared at her, his eyes dark with appreciation—no, downright lust—as he took in the lacy bra and thong, stockings and heels. The look he was giving her made her thighs tremble.

  She wasn’t going to be able to stand up much longer.

  So, she took matters into her own hands. Flashing him a smile, she turned and sauntered over to the bed, giving him a full view of her ass framed by the thong. Then she sat on the bed and crooked her finger at him. She didn’t have to do it twice. Nate hurtled across the room and dropped to his knees in front of her.

  Hannah leaned back on her elbows as he slowly ran his strong hands up her legs, from ankles to calves to thighs—where again he toyed with the edges of her stockings—and back down again. Deftly he slipped her shoes off and tossed them aside. She ran her toes across his chest, sliding over his nipples. He grabbed her ankles and set them on his shoulders, and began tracing the route his hands had taken with his tongue.

  Up her calves…her thighs…along the edge of the lace, on the sensitive bare skin of her legs close to her crotch. Her thighs quivered, and she could smell her own arousal. Her clit throbbed as he gently sucked her skin into his mouth. The fantasies she’d had about him had been numerous, but not a single one had even come close to this. She wanted to fall back on the bed, but she wanted to watch even more.

  As if reading her thoughts, he looked up at her, his wicked smile a promise of things to come. Hannah didn’t have to try to look seductive. She knew her eyes revealed exactly how she felt. She wanted him.

  Nate gave a low laugh and tugged at the edge of her thong. She raised her hips obligingly so he could slide it off. His eyes darkened when he noted that she shaved, then he dipped his head back down and blew warm air across her crotch. Hannah moaned. His breath added heat to the fire that was already raging.