Crazy in Love (Contemporary Romance) (Blue Lake Series)

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Crazy in Love (Contemporary Romance) (Blue Lake Series) Page 8

by Kristin Miller


  “She’s probably sleeping,” Cole said. “I’ll make the coffee myself. Now if you wouldn’t mind, I’d like to be alone while I practice.”

  Silence.

  “Fine, but you better get your act together before tomorrow night. Take the day off, let me and the crew take care of everything at the venue. Show up at six o’clock, ready to kill the show. Got it? Six!” Long, tension-strained pause. “What you don’t seem to understand is that you’re the talent, Cole. The talent. If you lose that, all you’re left with is a gorgeous face, and that won’t get you too far in this business.”

  He must’ve nodded, because without another word, Rita stormed out the front door, slamming it behind her.

  Rachael shuffled down the stairs and stopped at the bottom. Cole leaned back against the dining room wall, his foot kicked up, his head dropped back as if he was reading invisible words on the ceiling.

  “You want coffee?” she said, her voice crackling through the stillness.

  He startled. “Jesus, Rachael. You can’t creep up on people like that.”

  “Who else would you expect to be here in the middle of the night?”

  He nailed her with a heated glare. “This place is supposed to be haunted, right? Could’ve been a ghost or something.” He rolled his eyes and sagged against the wall. “What are you doing up?”

  “Couldn’t sleep.” She tightened her robe to make sure it was closed. She wasn’t nude beneath, but the white tank and panties didn’t cover much. “I wasn’t listening to your conversation, but I caught the tail end. You want me to make you coffee?”

  He nodded, his eyes going dark as she passed by and swept into the kitchen. She made a fresh pot and waited until a cup was ready to pour. As she spun around, mug in hand, she nearly plowed into him.

  “I was going to bring it out to you.” She handed it over.

  He drank quickly, wincing when the liquid hit his lips. “I’ll take it here, thanks.”

  She stood, watching. Waiting for him to do or say something. He was acting strange. Whatever happened at the concert must’ve really bothered him. After taking a few sips, he set the mug on the counter.

  “Why’d you leave after dinner tonight?” he said, licking traces of coffee of his lips.

  She shrugged, and poured herself a cup. She didn’t want it, but it kept her hands busy and her attention off his plush, kissable mouth. “I had things to do here.”

  “Like sweep the floors? Dust? Mop? Clean for guests who aren’t here?”

  “You’re here,” she countered.

  “For now.” He took another drink, and then set the mug back down. “Why’d you leave?”

  He was acting like a different person. Rachael had never been good at reading people or detecting their energy, but Cole was wound tight. His fists and jaw were clenched, and the gleam in his eyes was harsh. Unyielding. There was no tenderness or fun, no hint of his natural flirty demeanor in the white lines of his mouth.

  “If you’re fine with the coffee,” she said, leaving her cup where she’d poured it. “I think I’m going to head back to bed.”

  He shadowed her move, blocking her way into the dining room. “Aren’t you going to ask how the concert went?”

  “That’s not really any of my business.” She fisted the lapels of her robe and crossed them over one another, clamping them shut. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going back to bed.”

  He didn’t budge. “I forgot the words to my own damn songs.”

  “What?”

  “You heard me.”

  Her hands fell to her sides. “What happened?”

  “You happened!” He paced in a circle, tunneling his fingers through his hair. “You left dinner angry, and I couldn’t stop thinking about how you had absolutely no right to leave that way.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “You heard me.” He stopped pacing and put a hand in front of her that nearly touched her chest. “I thought about things I wanted to say to you, things I shouldn’t say, and when I should’ve sang one lyric, I belted another. I did that three goddamn times! You distracted me to the point that I couldn’t focus on the show and now my reputation as a performer is about to be flushed down the damn toilet.”

  She recoiled. “You think this is my fault?”

  “Damn right it is.”

  “I wasn’t even there!”

  He tapped his boot against the floor. “Why’d you leave dinner tonight?”

  She opened her mouth to tell him and then clamped it closed. She didn’t have to explain why she was angry. She wasn’t his girlfriend. He was a guest. A paying guest. And she certainly didn’t have to sit here taking the brunt of his anger.

  “Goodnight, Cole.”

  She swept past him. He grabbed her by the arm and spun her around. His eyes were on her, cold and hard, the way they’d been this morning when she’d left him to call Joey. And when she stared back, raising her eyebrows in defiance, the intensity in his gaze ramped up a few degrees.

  “Why’d you leave?” he said, his voice low.

  She lifted her chin at him. “You’re a smart guy, Cole. Why do you think?”

  “I want to hear you say it.” Gently, he pushed her back against the pantry door.

  Her heart thumped in her ears. “I told you, I had work to do.”

  “No,” he said, gritting his teeth together. “Try again.”

  “I was tired.”

  He cupped her face in his big, rough hands and lifted her chin so that she had no choice but to look him square in the eye. “Not buying it.”

  She gave a full body shudder. “Lucy’s one of my best friends and she’s crazy about you. I think you guys would be great together, but I didn’t want to stick around to watch it happen.”

  His hands dropped to his side. “Do you honestly think I want Lucy?”

  “Well you asked if—”

  “I thought I could fix her up with my drummer.” He coughed into a husky laugh. “You think I’m losing sleep because of Lucy? Do you honestly think I’m so twisted over your friend that I forgot my lyrics?”

  “How am I supposed to know what you—”

  “You clearly don’t know anything.”

  She flinched. “Englighten me, then.”

  “You don’t want to hear a damn thing I’ve got to say right now.” Groaning, he rubbed the heels of his hands over his eyes. “You don’t want to hear that I’m strung out over you, Rachael. You’ve got me spinnin’ so many circles I can’t see straight. I can’t think about anything but getting you into bed.” He scrubbed his hands over his face. “But that’s not romantic at all, which is what you want, and I clearly can’t give that to you.”

  He wanted her? Badly, apparently. The anger that’d been building in her belly waned at the thought.

  “That’s n—not what I expected.” Rachael shivered beneath the heady weight of his stare. “But it doesn’t change anything.”

  He was still leaving. She was staying behind. He was a rock star from Hollywood and she was a country girl from the mountains. They may’ve had chemistry that ranked off the charts, but in what universe would the two of them have a future together? And that wasn’t what he wanted anyway, she reminded herself. He didn’t want anything long-term.

  “You don’t want me,” he said, “that’s fine. But keep your anger to yourself, because it’s screwing with my head.”

  “Who says I don’t want you?”

  He moaned from deep in his throat. “Don’t tease me, woman.”

  He pinned her in place, one hand on the wall over her shoulder, another palming her stomach. And when all the air she had in her lungs whooshed out on a breathy exhale, he wedged his knee between her thighs. He searched every feature of her face: her eyes and nose, her chin, until finally, his gaze honed on her mouth.

  “I’m not teasing.” She looked up at him, wanting him to kiss her, knowing she’d be lost if he did. “I want you so bad, but I can’t go there with you.”

  “And you shoul
dn’t.”

  Her breath came out in jagged pants. “I know how this ends.”

  “Yet we haven’t even started.” He lowered his head to hers. “Tell me to walk away and I will.”

  Her knees shook as the words left her lips. “I…can’t.”

  “Then tell me to kiss you.”

  Time stood still as he stared down upon her, the gaze in his heavy-lidded eyes hungry and wild. One glimpse into those smooth, melting-honey eyes and she was a goner. With his body hovered over her this way, possessive and strong, it was easy to forget that she wanted something more than a fling.

  God, did it matter? The other times she’d gotten involved with guests, she’d thought there was a future. Of course she’d gotten hurt when it didn’t pan out.

  But this time could be different.

  There was no future with Cole Turner; she knew that.

  What was the harm in wanting to taste or feel something one time? If she wrapped her head around the fact that this was it, one night, one romp, she might not be disappointed when he left.

  She looked up at him and sighed. “Kiss—”

  It was all she got out before he claimed her mouth and plunged his tongue past her lips.

  Chapter Twelve

  Cole feasted on her mouth, his hands tugging and pulling at the tie around her waist. As the robe fell open, he splayed his hands down her stomach and pulled back.

  She was exquisite. Simple white tank top. Cotton panties. Smooth skin over lean muscle. Moonlight streaked through the kitchen windows, slanting over her porcelain skin, giving her a sexy, amber glow.

  “Beautiful,” he said, and found her mouth once more.

  She sighed into him, her arms roping around his neck. She twisted and twirled her tongue along his, setting fire to the blood in his veins. Needing to touch her, he dropped to his knees and worshipped her breasts. He held the full weight of them in his hands. Snatched the bottom of her tank top with his teeth and yanked it up. He kissed the flat span of her stomach, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses along her silky soft skin. Digging her nails into his hair, she fisted a handful and tugged. Pain mixed with the pleasure and suddenly touching her wasn’t enough.

  He gazed up her body. Grabbed ahold of the top ridge of her tank top and pulled it below her breasts. They were perky and lush, with two pink nipples pulled tight from his touch.

  He had to draw those tightly budded nipples into his mouth.

  As he slid up her body, drew his hand around her neck and guided her mouth to his, she staggered back. He used the momentum to drive her backward until she was flush against the kitchen cabinets.

  She gasped into his mouth, and he hardened to the point of pain.

  Lowering himself to her breasts, he suckled one of those perfectly-pebbled nipples into his mouth and kneaded the other. As she leaned back against the counter, Cole ravished her breasts and spread her legs.

  “Cole,” she moaned, pressing his head to her breast.

  “I love the sound of my name on your lips.”

  “Then from here on out,” she breathed, “you’ll have to draw it out of me.”

  She ran her fingers around his shoulder and down his arms. His skin flushed, burning from the heat of her touch.

  “Challenge accepted.” The urge to taste her hit him like a sledgehammer. “These,” he said, running his finger along the band of her panties, “need to come off.”

  She kicked out of them quickly and settled back against the counter. Yanking open a cabinet door, he used it as a ledge and propped her leg so she’d open up for him. And then, before she could protest, he pleasured her with his mouth until she cried out his name again and again. She tasted good. Better than good. The sweetest honey he’d ever had on his tongue.

  He needed more.

  “I want you inside me,” she said, dragging him up her body. “Tell me you have a condom.”

  “I do.” He kissed her neck and the gentle swoop of her jaw. He wouldn’t stop until he’d kissed every delicate inch of her. “Upstairs.”

  He ran upstairs, rummaged through his luggage, and pulled out a condom. As he ran back down, taking the narrow steps two at a time, he pocketed the lifesaver.

  Rachael was leaning against the counter in the exact position he’d left her. Her cheeks were flushed, her lips were kissed pink, and she was buck naked, except for the robe that hung from her shoulders.

  Hurricane Turner had left a provocative wake.

  He charged through the kitchen, cupped her chin in his hands and crushed his mouth to hers. Groaning, he coiled his arms around her waist and lifted her off her feet. He kept his eyes closed as he fumbled his way out of the kitchen and into the dining room. He knew he’d reached the living room when he accidently kicked over one of his guitar cases.

  “You didn’t break something, did you?” she asked, giggling into a kiss.

  “Don’t know,” he said. “And don’t care.”

  Nearly tripping over another case, he tossed Rachael onto the couch. She landed with her robe splayed out behind her, a curtain of red against her pale skin. She smiled wide and nailed him with a sultry, come-and-get-me glance.

  Sexiest sight ever.

  He committed the image to memory and got busy stripping out of his clothes. He kicked off his boots and jeans and slid the shirt over his head, tossing it to the floor. In his frantic rush to be inside her, he’d forgotten the condom. He dug into his jeans pocket, tore through the wrapper and rolled it on.

  Seconds dragged by.

  Shaking with anticipation, Cole gripped her backside and slid her to the edge of the couch.

  They groaned in unison as their hips met. He stilled inside her, buried to the hilt.

  “Know how long I’ve wanted to do this?” he said, as he slowly thrust in and out of her wetness. “Since you caught me in my towel.”

  She rested back onto the couch. Tilted her hips so his length would sink deeper into her heat. She was a hot glove of molten ecstasy. A perfect fit. Every muscle in his body clenched into a tight fist.

  “I wanted you that night, too,” she said.

  He stilled. “I knew you couldn’t resist me.”

  The corner of her lips pulled up into a grin. “Get down here, you cocky sucker.”

  “Cock and suck in the same sentence?” He plunged deeper. “Music to my ears.”

  She rose up, grabbed him by the back of the neck and brought him down over her. As skin met sweet-smelling skin, their bodies rocked together in an undulating rhythm that drove him to the brink. And when her inner walls began to clench around his shaft in tiny little pulses, his muscles seized. She cried out his name, and sent him careening over the edge with her.

  As the surges waned, Cole stilled, though he didn’t want to roll off just yet.

  She consumed him. From the rosy-sweetness of her hair and warmth of her body, to the soft pitter-patter of her heart beating through her chest. Her legs wrapped around his hips, and her arms around his back.

  He never wanted the moment to end, which was a new notion for him.

  Normally, he’d start thinking of a way to get out without hurting the woman’s feelings. But not a single idea of the sort entered his head. They could stay here. Throw a blanket on the floor, light a fire and curl up in front of it until dawn. He felt relaxed and drained, his muscles spent. Not a single thought of how he’d botched the concert could worry him now.

  “I need to get up,” she said, patting his back.

  Wasn’t that normally his line?

  He rolled off the couch and disposed of the condom as she wrapped herself in her robe and disappeared upstairs. For a long while, Cole wasn’t sure she’d come back down, and a pang of loneliness struck him, which was damn odd. When she finally trotted down the stairs, she swept into the kitchen without one glance his direction.

  Not what he’d expected.

  “Rachael?” he strode through the dining room without bothering to cover himself. “You okay?”

  “Yeah.” Sh
e filled a glass of ice water. “Why wouldn’t I be? Here.”

  He eyed the glass. “Don’t you want some?”

  “Nah, I’m good.”

  He stared, and tightened the slack in his jaw. Rachael may’ve tried to play up the shy vibe, but she was a vixen in the sack. Beyond that, the woman was a saint, caring for others over herself. Every one in town loved her—he was beginning to see why—and he hadn’t heard a bad word whispered behind her back. She was naturally beautiful unlike the plastic groupies who tried to mob him at every tour stop. She was stable. Kind and nurturing with a stubborn streak that would keep a relationship interesting and vibrant.

  She could have anyone she wanted…

  “What in the world are you doing with me?” he asked.

  She handed him the water. “Screwing your brains out, apparently.”

  “Well you did a damn fine job.” He drank until the glass was dry, but he was still thirsty. Same thing could be said for his thirst for the woman standing in front of him. “I can’t collect my thoughts.”

  She did a little bow. “Then my job here is done.”

  “I like it,” he said, pinching the collar of her robe. “It’s sexy.”

  “This?” As she glanced down, the lapels parted, revealing the plumpness of her breasts. “Are you serious?”

  He bit his lip, imaging all the things they could do with the robe tie.

  “If that’s the case, I think I really did screw your brains out.” She giggled. “This thing is ancient.”

  He tugged on the tie at her waist and hauled her against him. “Why don’t we go back into the living room and you can tell me all about it.”

  She stiffened in his arms. He could almost hear her thoughts racing.

  “Don’t you want to call it a night?” she said. “So we don’t confuse what this really is?”

  “And what is that?” He kept her bent against him. If he let go of her now, he might not get to touch her again.

  She swallowed hard and her gaze dropped to his chest. “A one night stand.”

  Using two fingers, he tiled her head so she could peer through the kitchen window over his table. High overhead, the moon shone brightly.

 

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