by Genia Avers
“No doubt.” To her surprise, he gave her a lazy grin and picked a lock of hair from her shoulder. He twirled it around his finger. “I like your hair like this.”
He did what?
If she didn’t know better, Tanith would swear he was flirting with her. She knew better. More likely, he really was drunk.
She should tell him to “go to hell” and slam the door in his face. In the weeks they had practiced in preparation for tonight’s gig, he’d alternated between demanding, being aloof, and acting downright snide. Brent grudgingly conceded that her singing was okay, but made it clear he had no use for her personally. He’d complained about her hair, her clothes, and even her lack of earrings. Nothing, except her voice, was less than awful.
Still, she wanted to please him. Wanted him period.
Pathetic.
No, she wouldn’t tell him to go to hell. In her defense, she doubted any woman would tell him to get lost, not while looking at his chest, exposed by the open shirt he’d worn onstage. His skin looked like bronzed steel, every muscle strong and sinewy. His hair beckoned for her touch and made her ache to lose her fingers in his dark mane. His eyes, above all else, made her want to tear off her clothes and offer her body as a sacrifice.
Tanith shook her head, trying to break the spell. Dark and brooding were the very qualities she did not want in a man.
“Let’s get out of here.” He took her arm before she could protest.
“What? Where are we going?”
Brent didn’t reply. He slid his arm down hers until he grasped her hand in his. He walked, pulling her along with him. His actions were freakishly similar to the man from her dream.
They didn’t stop until they were on the street, then he pushed her against the building and studied her face. Good thing he held her tightly because Tanith’s knees buckled.
He gazed into her eyes for several seconds. “What am I going to do with you?”
“What are you—”
His mouth cut off her words with a hungry kiss. The hunger belonged to a man who hadn’t eaten and she was his filet mignon.
Her brain screamed: Push him away. As much as she wanted him, she wouldn’t let him use her like a groupie.
Her body rebelled against her brain. Her lips opened and let him in. His tongue caressed her mouth and evoked too many sensations. His kiss mimicked the one extracted by her dream lover, giving the seduction an eerie sense of dé·jà vu.
Tanith reached for him, wanting him closer. Brent pulled away, seeming to consume her with his demon eyes.
“Dammit.”
“What?” Tanith blurted, not understanding.
“You feel it too, don’t you?”
He let go and stepped back. Tanith gripped the brick wall to maintain her balance.
“I don’t get it,” he lamented, more to himself than her. “I’ve done everything possible to keep you at arm’s length. God knows you made it abundantly clear at the auditions that you don’t like me. I don’t want a relationship. Especially now. You’re not even my type, all nerdy and uptight. Worse, you never stand up for yourself. I like women with backbone.”
“Hold on, buster. You can’t talk about me like I’m not here. How dare you say I’m nerdy, you pompous ass.” She most certainly did have a backbone and she thanked providence it hadn’t deserted her. Her spine supported the massive amount of anger that surfaced. “And I’m not uptight so give it a rest, jerk.”
The outburst deflated her. Tanith looked around to make sure the person shouting had really been her. She expected an explosion in return but he merely looked at her, a strange expression on his face. After an awkward moment, his grin disarmed her.
“You’re right. Maybe I do know what I see in you. Maybe I knew Ms. Spitfire hovered underneath all that goody-goody. That’s what scares me the most, you know. All that goodness.”
She felt her eyes widen. She’d expected a lot of things, but not that.
“The problem, my beautiful songbird,” he continued, “is me, not you.”
“God, do you guys really expect any woman to buy that it’s me, not you crap?”
He didn’t answer. Instead, he touched her cheek tenderly.
“Brent, honey?” Amanda’s voice shrilled through the night air, destroying the mood. “Are you out here?”
Tanith didn’t know what might have happened if Amanda hadn’t beamed down. She felt almost glad to see the witch. The woman’s unwelcome presence inserted some reality into the scene. The man who haunted her dreams, unlike Brent, would never be involved with a bimbo like Amanda.
The clank, clank of Amanda’s spiked boots echoed like screech owls in the night. Brent groaned. The spell he’d cast not only broke, it shattered.
“There you… Oh.” Amanda’s glower speared through Tanith. “You’re still here, Tanith? Marcus said you had to study.” She turned to face Brent. “I don’t know why you had to hire a schoolmarm for our band.”
No way would she put up with Amanda’s crap at three in the morning. “I’m outta here.”
“Hold on, Tanith.” Brent reached for her, grabbing her forearm. He twisted his head toward the bass guitarist. “How many encores did we do tonight, Manda?”
“What?” The wince marred Amanda’s beauty, making her look harsh under the street lamp.
“How many encores did we do tonight?” Brent repeated, dropping his hand.
“Three, four, why?”
“That’s why I hired the schoolmarm, as you so crudely put it. She’s the reason the crowd couldn’t get enough of us. So be nice and thank Tanith.”
His praise washed Tanith in warmth, but did little to dispel her discomfort. This should have been a wonderful night. Instead, she stood trapped in the middle of a lovers’ spat like a fly in their web of deceit.
At least she’d been spared more of Brent’s it’s me, not you speech. She felt a sudden urge to giggle.
Instead, she walked around Brent and headed purposely across the street to the sidewalk on the other side. “Night.”
“Wait, Tanith. I’ll walk you.”
No way. She quickened her pace. “It’s okay,” she yelled over her shoulder. Let the two of them have each other. They were certainly well suited. The real tough guy and his brittle, beautiful bitch.
She muttered to herself as she walked, her fury increasing with every stride. She worked herself into a huff, oblivious to her surroundings.
A hand grasped her shoulder. She screamed. Tanith whirled, ready to fight.
“Whoa, tiger. It’s just me.”
“Damn, Brent. You scared the bejesus out of me. Don’t ever sneak up on me like that.”
“Didn’t you hear me say I’d walk you?”
“I heard you, but I don’t need you to walk me home. You may get to boss me around at practice, but the rest of the time I don’t have to listen to you or your put-downs!”
“Look, I said I was sorry.”
“No, actually, you didn’t.”
“Well, I am sorry.”
“And so you are. Now let me go.” She tried to pull her arm free but he held tight.
“Look at me, Tanith.”
Against her better judgment, she looked. The angry tears forming in her eyes combined with the streetlight and created a crystal outline around his face. He appeared to sparkle.
Just like the man in my dream.
Brent ran his finger over her cheek, wiping away the moisture. “I’ve been an ass, I know. You scare me. Your talent scares me. Knowing this band, now that we have you, might actually make it, scares me. I didn’t mean to be so—”
“Hey, guys!” Amanda interrupted.
Brent dropped his hand.
“Thought I’d join the party.” The redhead sounded out of breath. “That is, if I’m not interrupting.” She smiled coyly.
Tanith grimaced. The woman didn’t have a coy cell in her entire being. “No, it’s okay. Brent can go back with you. I’m almost home.”
Brent, who still had h
is back to Amanda, scowled. “Dammit, Tanith. I said I’d walk you home. All the way home.”
She scowled back at him. “Since you put it so nicely, no.” Hell no.
The jerk grinned. “Eh, I mean I’d like to walk you home, if that’s okay with you.”
“But, Brent,” Amanda whined. “The fans want you back at the party.”
“They wanted Tanith too.” He kept his back to Amanda. His eyes pleaded.
What was she supposed to do? She was too tired to deal with the two of them.
“Yeah, but Tanith has to study,” Amanda grumbled. “Cut her some slack, will you?”
Tanith’s mouth flew open. The redhead could care less whether she studied or not.
“Well, I’m walking her to her door.” Before, Brent’s voice had sounded calm. Amanda’s appearance had given his tone an edge. “Come if you want.”
The three trudged silently in the night. When they reached Tanith’s apartment building, Brent insisted on climbing all three flights of stairs.
Tanith barely managed to contain her laughter when Amanda caught her boot heel in the stairs and screeched like a banshee. At her door, she held out her hand to Brent. “Good night.”
Brent took her hand, lifted it to his mouth, and kissed the fleshy area at the base of her thumb. “You really were fabulous.”
“Thanks.” She tugged her hand away and darted inside while she could still think.
Chapter Eight
Tanith kept her ear against the door until the sound of Brent and Amanda’s footsteps disappeared into the night. She slumped to the floor and sighed heavily, making the hair around her face rise and fall.
Just her luck. She’d finally found a guy she wanted and naturally, he was taken.
She grabbed the doorknob and pulled herself upright. Too keyed to sleep, she didn’t think studying even ranked as a possibility. Maybe taking a shower would help her relax.
Just thinking about the warm water raining down on her face made her feel better. If only she could wash away her thoughts of Brent as easily.
She finished her shower and her hair was almost dry when she heard a noise above the whirr of the blow dryer. Tanith shut off the appliance and listened.
Ding, ding.
The doorbell? Fear sprang to her chest. She wasn’t afraid because an unexpected visitor stood outside her apartment in the wee hours of the morning. Tanith worried her wish had come true. She feared Brent had returned.
Might as well acknowledge what she hadn’t been able to admit earlier. She hoped he would return. She wanted him, even if only for one night.
A quick look through the peephole confirmed her intuition. Brent.
She opened the door.
“Hi.” His smile looked almost shy. “I…”
When he stopped talking, Tanith followed his gaze. Crap.
She’d forgotten she wore only her robe. A belt kept the garment tightly cinched, but above her waistline, the collar gaped to reveal a wide expanse of cleavage.
The silence intensified. Tanith pulled the terrycloth together covering her neck. Brent’s eyes returned to her face.
“Can I come in?”
You’ll regret this. Tanith blocked out the warnings hammering in her head and motioned him inside. She shut the door and turned toward him, her face almost touching his jacket. The scent of old leather intermingled with the aroma of her shampoo was an intoxicating combination.
Brent pulled her to his chest and his lips found hers. Before she could protest, his fingers began to untie the belt to her robe. His kiss deepened, making her oblivious to everything except the glorious friction emanating from his talented lips. All resolutions about not being the groupie of the day flew from her brain. If he wanted a groupie, she’d volunteer.
Tanith whimpered when he pulled his lips away. She blinked, trying to focus. Brent held her steady with one hand while he used the other to open her robe. He stared at her breasts. “You’re beautiful. Even more beautiful than I’d…”
He stopped talking and reached to touch her, moving his fingers slowly as if stroking a fine piece of sculpture he feared might break. His touch barely grazed her nipples, igniting a yearning Tanith doubted she’d ever be able to extinguish.
He gulped, as if the mutual lust surprised him. He dropped to his knees and his tongue flicked over her abdomen.
Cradling his chin with her hands, she forced him to look at her. Gazing into his green eyes, she saw only puzzles behind the desire.
No matter. If only he’d kiss her again and silence her doubts.
Brent rose, seeming to comply with her silent command. He merely brushed her lips with his own, the touch so light the contact felt like torture to her starved passion. She pushed herself closer, entangling her tongue with his. He held her back, teasing her as he lightly tickled her lips, pulling away when she pushed forward.
Tanith tried to slow her reactions and contain her need, but the real man reacted with infinitely more patience than her dream lover. He played her body slowly, as if warming up for a finale that would have multiple encores.
Her arousal threatened to engulf her until she disappeared and only desire remained. She pulled his head forward, her shaking body demanding more as she became the aggressor.
Brent pulled her tight against his taunt body. The action might have crushed her if excitement hadn’t turned her limbs to jelly. He kissed her as she’d never been kissed before.
How could a single kiss be so pleasurable? The power in the tip of his tongue stoked her and set her body ablaze. She felt the contact in her fingertips and in her toenails.
Her hands opened his jacket and she ran her nails under his shirt. She made several circles with her fingers, each circle lower than the one before until she reached the top of his jeans.
He pulled out of the kiss. “Are you sure about this?” He’d voiced the doubts she didn’t want voiced.
“Don’t talk,” she ordered. She had no power to stop the avalanche of lust pummeling her. She’d worry later.
He nodded, releasing the breath he seemed to be holding. He kissed her eyebrows.
Tanith couldn’t remember ever having lips on her brows. The sensation was so exotic, so sensuous, her back arched reflexively, pressing her breasts against him. Brent’s lips moved, as if drawn toward her thrusting nipples, but he kept his magical mouth close to her face, instead leaving a trail of kisses along the side of her jaw.
He took her mouth again. She reached for his belt.
Slowly, methodically she unbuckled the constraining loop. Several times she fumbled as his tongue did delicious things to the inside of her mouth. Persisting, she managed to slide her fingers along the inside of his jeans, tracing the length of his zipper.
And him.
She gasped at his size and tried to pull back. Her dream lover hadn’t been quite so well-endowed.
Brent groaned in response, pulling her tighter into his embrace. He licked at her lips, re-igniting the passion that made her a slave to his mouth. Each stroke of his tongue reverberated through her core, making her crazy with need, making her wetter.
Tanith whimpered into his mouth, wondering how much more she could stand. In response, Brent plunged his tongue deep into her throat. His fingers found a nipple and he began to tweak and squeeze. She stiffened, so aroused she feared she’d climax instantly if he touched her special spot.
She ran her palm up and down the length of his zipper, hoping to inspire him so he’d give her what she needed. Brent pulled her hands away from his groin.
Crud.
Her eyes flew open. Before she could protest, he placed his hands under her butt and lifted her off the floor.
Tanith’s breasts were positioned level with his head. He growled, the sound primitive and virile.
His teeth nibbled on her nipples as he carried her across the room to the sofa. He positioned her on the cushions and then slid the robe down and off her arms.
The hunger in his eyes served as a catalyst. Tanit
h reached for him but he stepped back to remove his leather jacket, never letting his gaze leave her body.
He yanked off his shirt and tossed it across the room. Some part of her brain registered the sheer perfection of his chest and toned abs, but lust, not brain, controlled her. She grabbed his hips and pulled him toward her, desperate to feel his body against her. Inside her.
She traced a thin line above his unbuttoned jeans with her tongue. Then she reached for the zipper.
Brent pushed her back against the cushion. “Patience, love. I’m holding on by a thread.”
“So don’t hold on.”
He swallowed.
The lump in her throat grew when he kicked off his shoes. She could barely breathe by the time he stepped out of his jeans.
Seeing him naked was akin to seeing Adonis come to life. His cock thrust forward like an angry tiger, eager for the hunt. Could the glorious man actually be real? She wrapped her arms around her own shoulders, afraid if she let go, she would attack him.
A desire-laced smile crossed his face. Brent sat down on the couch, pulling her into his lap. He touched her breast. Then he was touching her everywhere. He kept touching, kept taking her to the brink of paradise, but not quite there.
Every touch made Tanith greedier for the next. She pressed her breasts against his chest, wanting to crawl inside his skin.
“Please,” she mumbled. “You’re making me crazy.”
Brent pulled his tongue from her mouth. “You’ve taken me beyond crazy.”
His lips made a trek of torturous nibbles down her neck as his mouth moved lower, into the center of her cleavage. Tanith thrust her breasts forward, begging for the gentle scrape of his teeth against her nipples.
He ignored her demand. Using his finger and the lightest of touch, he ran his fingertips down the inside of her arms until he reached her hand. There, he traced a delicate pattern on her palm before he moved his thumbs to her midriff. Using both hands, he caressed her belly with light feathery strokes.
Tanith whimpered with frustrated need. In response, Brent placed his pinky into her navel. She whimpered again, feeling a direct connection to her aching pelvis.
“God, you’re beautiful.” Brent leaned over her to kiss a circle around her areole. His other hand traced lower and lower.