She sat back, and was startled when he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her closer to him, her cheek touching his. There was something deeply intense about the way they held on to each other in that moment. She hadn’t expected this, but it felt too good and too right to fight him or pull away. Her lips brushed his neck as she felt the warmth of his body through her old T-shirt. His fingers dug into her hip, as if he were trying to hold on to the moment. Her body responded to every touch, every breath he took, like it had been made for him.
Without being aware of it, she rocked her hips toward him and felt his fingers tighten on her skin. She would probably have a bruise on her hip, and instead of scaring her, she relished in the possibility of having his brand on her. Jarrod turned his head slightly and whispered her name like a prayer, sending an ache through her body she knew only he could fill. Their eyes met and she knew he was going to kiss her. But before he could, there was a knock at the door, and Sam’s voice calling her name, which broke the spell. The moment she’d done everything to avoid and would give everything to have again.
“Trish? Are you in there? Come on, open the door.” Sam’s voice made her aware of what she was getting ready to do, and she shook her head as the lust-filled haze around them disappeared. She could not have sex with Jarrod; it would change, and jeopardize, everything they had all worked so hard to build. Most importantly, it would mean risking her heart, and she knew if things went wrong, she would never recover.
Without saying a word, she walked to the door and opened it to find Sam standing there with three coffees and croissants. “I’ll take the flush on your face as an indication that Jarrod is still here?” When she didn’t argue, he stepped inside. “Good, then we can all have breakfast.”
“Sam, your timing is probably the worst ever,” she heard Jarrod say from the bed.
Acting like he didn’t know he had just interrupted something, he laughed and said, “Because yours is so much better there, buddy. Five years and you couldn’t find the right time.”
Patricia looked at both of them. God, she couldn’t handle this right now. “I’m going to go take a shower. Think you guys can behave?”
Before she closed the bathroom door, she heard both of them say, “Nope,” and then laughter filled the room.
She closed the bathroom door and leaned her back against the cold surface, wondering what would have happened if Sam hadn’t knocked when he had. With her hands in her hair, she shook her head. “Shit.” She knew something had changed between the two of them in the last couple of months. They had always been flirty with each other, but the intensity of their connection had increased to a boiling point.
Jarrod
When she had climbed into bed with him the night before, it had felt like he had been handed a gift so precious he was afraid he would destroy it. Then this morning, when she pressed her lips against his cheek, he almost lost it. The urge to throw her down, get on top of her, and explore every inch of her body with his hands and tongue was almost too much for him to resist. But he knew her and her body language better than anyone, and in that moment, she’d been vulnerable. He knew he would hate himself if he made a move on her when she was like this. He wanted her fully on board, mentally and physically, when they took their relationship in that direction, and he wouldn’t take anything less from her.
When Sam knocked on the door and interrupted the moment he had been anticipating for such a long time, he wanted to fucking punch his friend and thank him at the same time. With Trish locked away in the bathroom, he looked over at Sam, who had taken a seat by the window, giving him a look that said everything, causing them both to laugh.
“What did I interrupt just now?” Sam asked while taking a sip of his coffee. Jarrod loved the man like a brother, but there was no way he was sharing such an emotionally charged moment with anyone, not even him.
Jarrod took a bite of his croissant and smiled. “You don’t want to know, trust me.” They both laughed again. “I felt her walls drop last night, Sam, and fuck, it felt so fucking good to have her with me like that.”
“You’ve both been dancing around each other for a long-ass time. It’s bound to blow up.” He knew Sam was right, but getting Trish to see it that way wasn’t easy.
“Has she talked to you lately? There’s something on her mind, but she won’t open up to me about it,” Jarrod asked, knowing Sam was the only other person she would confide in.
“She’ll talk to you when she’s ready. Give her time.” So Sam knew what was going on with her. Well, at least she was talking to someone.
Twenty minutes later, Trish walked out of the bathroom, her hair still wet from the shower, wearing jeans and a George Strait T-shirt. It didn’t matter what she wore, if she was dressed up or dressed down, she was so damn beautiful. He could look at her all day and never get tired of her. Her wavy brown hair went down below her shoulders, framing the most beautiful brown eyes he had ever seen on a woman before. He had heard so many times that the eyes were the window to the soul, but before meeting Trish, he hadn’t understood just what that meant. Her eyes told him everything he needed to know. They told him when she was sad, when she was happy, and when she doubted herself. His eyes travelled down her curvy body. Fuck, he loved her curves. She wasn’t thin or fat. She had curves in all the right places, and a body toned by her workouts.
When both he and Sam looked at her from head to toe, she tossed her hands in the air. “What? It’s a travel day. Give me a break.”
Sam snorted and walked over to the door. “And on that note, I’m going to go check out. Jar, your stuff is already on the bus. Derek is waiting in the lobby. It’s not pretty outside, so don’t be late. We’re on a schedule.”
Jarrod watched her as she walked over to Sam and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “Thanks for the coffee.” Her voice barely registered over the ringing in his ears. He knew it was ridiculous, but he wanted her lips on him and him alone—no one said he was a rational man.
When Sam left the room, he got out of bed, and when he caught her looking at him and licking her lips, he swore this was some sort of test. It was a test he wasn’t opposed to failing if it meant having her look at him that way for the rest of his life. “If you keep looking at me like that, we are definitely going to miss bus call, and you know how Derek gets when we’re late.”
Half an hour later, they were both ready to head out to the bus. Standing in the hallway, waiting for the elevator, she looked out the window. “It got bad pretty quickly out there. It’s pouring now.”
They could hear the wind had picked up against the hall windows. “Damn, that’s some storm,” he agreed.
“No? Really? I hadn’t noticed,” she mocked him, punching his arm as she laughed. God, he loved her hands on him. When the doors opened, he let her go in first. She dropped her overnight bag on the floor and pressed the lobby button.
Looking straight at the door, she whispered, “Thank you for last night. I really needed that.”
Her words took him by surprise. She never expressed gratitude for taking care of her; hell, she barely let him take care of her in the first place. “Never thought I would hear those words coming from you,” he said jokingly.
“Funny, very funny, Jar.” As she said the words, the elevator came to a complete stop, jerking her forward, straight into his arms. “What the hell was that?”
“That was me saving your gorgeous face from hitting the floor,” he said as he steadied her back on her feet, even if all he wanted to do was keep her body glued to his.
“Be serious for a minute here. What was that? Oh, God, the elevator isn’t moving,” she said in a panic.
He knew she didn’t like confined spaces, so he put his hands on each of her shoulders and looked her in the eyes. “Breathe, sweetheart, everything is going to be fine.” The minute he felt her calm down, he pressed the emergency phone, and a few seconds later, a man’s voice came on the intercom.
“Is everyone all right?” the man asked
. He looked at Patricia, who fought hard to keep herself calm, and he shook his head, hating to see her like that.
“We’re fine,” Jarrod replied. “What happened?” he asked the man, desperate to know how long they would be stuck in the elevator.
“The storm blew out the power source, sir. We’re trying to get it fixed now, but it might take a while.” The man sounded just as annoyed with the situation as he was, but when he looked at Trish, he had to admit there were worse things in life than being stuck in a confined space with her.
He saw panic rise in her again when the man’s words registered. “How long is a while?” she asked.
“Ma’am, our mechanical team says that it should take about an hour for us to get the power back on. Is anyone else in the elevator?” the man asked.
“No. It’s just us two. Listen, this is Jarrod Banks. Is there any way you could let the guys, who are probably all in the lobby right now, know what’s going on?”
“Of course, Mr. Banks. You two just sit tight and we’ll have you out of there in no time.” The pitch of the man’s voice told Jarrod he knew exactly who he was. He was happy to use his celebrity status to get things done, but for the first time, he hoped the guy wouldn’t rush to get them out.
“Where the hell are we going to go?” Patricia mumbled under her breath. He couldn’t help but smile at God’s sense of humor for sticking them in a broken elevator after the night they had spent together. He needed time alone with her, to break through that shell of hers. He knew she had the same feelings for him as he did for her, and this game they were playing had lasted long enough.
“Trish, stop pacing. You’re giving me a headache.” Jarrod sat on the elevator floor, watching her walk back and forth, and if she didn’t stop soon, she was going to burn a hole through the floor. It was something she always did when she was nervous; it was fucking adorable.
“How can you be so calm about this? We’re stuck in an elevator, Jarrod!” She almost screamed the words in her panic while still walking the elevator floor.
“I know where we are, Trish, but burning a hole in the floor, and yelling at me won’t make the elevator start working any sooner,” he told her, a bit aggravated with her attitude.
“I’m sorry,” she said, sitting down beside him. “I didn’t mean to scream at you. I’m just freaking out a little.” He put his hand on her thigh and felt her shiver at his touch. It was now or never.
Patricia
Stuck in an elevator with Jarrod. What had she done to deserve this? Especially after the moment they’d shared that morning. Her senses were on high alert, and being so close to the man responsible for her heightened sexual need was not helping. The moment his hand made contact with her thigh, she bit back a moan of pleasure. A simple touch from him always had her melting and the need for relief of any sort became overwhelming. How was she going to survive this?
“Do you remember the night we first met?” he asked her, his eyes focused on the wall in front of them.
“Jar, what are you doing?” she asked with tremors in her voice. She couldn’t help but wonder where he was going with this. The one thing she did know was that taking a trip down memory lane would not help her get her feelings under control.
“I’m making conversation, so indulge me, okay?” he said, squeezing her thigh harder. She closed her eyes, memorizing the way his touch felt.
For a minute, they both stayed silent, until finally, she decided to end the building suspense. “I remember that night. I’d had one of the worst weeks of my life at work, and I was really looking forward to going out. It was the funniest thing because when you guys stepped onto that stage to play, it was like everything that had gone wrong just vanished into thin air. You guys were so good. I just knew you had what it took to make it. Not even two songs in and I had already made up my mind to work with you guys.”
“You want to know something funny about that night?” he asked, not moving his hand. He locked his eyes on her, knocking the breath out of her lungs with the pure lust in them. “You were the first thing I noticed when we stepped onto that stage. I saw you at the bar, a drink in your hand. You caught my eye from the get-go.” He didn’t give her a chance to say anything; instead, he continued this trip down memory lane.
“You were so damn beautiful that night. You had your hair up in a ponytail with painted-on jeans and a red silk top that was so damn hot. Every guy in that bar was looking at you, but you seemed so clueless of all the attention you were getting. I sang every song for you that night, and when you came backstage, I was feeling so slick thinking you were feeling what I felt. Do you remember the first thing you said?”
The only thing she could think about was how could he even remember all of that? It had been five years, and though she remembered every detail about that night, she would never have imagined that he did too.
She took a deep breath and tried to keep herself calm as she spoke. “I said, ‘It’s more about what I can do for you. Have you ever thought of getting a publicist? Because I’m your girl.’ You looked so shocked that for a minute, I thought I had something in my teeth.” She laughed at the memory of his face when she’d spoken to him. It was the night when everything changed. Her career and her life transformed, because meeting Jarrod had ruined her for any other man.
“You were so damn sexy and confident. I don’t know why, but I just knew you were the right fit for us. And then it hit me: I couldn’t hit on you or sleep with you if you were going to be working with us.” She couldn’t quite decipher the look on his face, which was strange, because before that moment, she thought she had known his every expression. But the one he was giving her was new, and made her heart beat faster.
She couldn’t do anything but laugh. He was making her nervous, and when she was nervous, she laughed. It was her way of dealing with feelings she didn’t know how to handle. After what seemed like an eternity, she finally stopped chuckling, and the look on Jarrod’s face went straight to her core.
“You want to tell me why that’s so funny to you?” he asked her, making sure she knew he was annoyed by her reaction.
“Come on, Jar, you wanted to sleep with me? There were so many beautiful women there that night that I didn’t even have a chance with the bartender, and you expect me to believe that you, Jarrod Banks, wanted to sleep with this?” she told him, running her hands in the air over her body.
“You’re serious, aren’t you?” he questioned her in disbelief, taking her aback. “You were the single most beautiful, sexy woman in the bar that night. I didn’t want to sleep with you; I wanted to fuck the hell out of you. When you came backstage that night, the minute I saw you, I was rock hard with only one thought running through my head: Where was the closest room I could fuck you in?”
She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She cursed him for doing this now when she couldn’t escape the conversation. “Why are you doing this now, Jar?”
He didn’t answer her question; instead, he just kept reminiscing. “Do you remember that first show we did in Florida during spring break?” Whether she liked it or not, he seemed determined to do this. When Jarrod was firm in getting something done, she knew trying to stop him was a waste of time.
“You were so happy we got the gig and didn’t give a damn that we had to stay in a cheap motel on the side of the highway, because we got to play, and that was all that mattered. When we went to the beach, you looked so damn cute wearing that coverall, big hat, and sunglasses while sipping on your cold beer. You lay there, watching us as we played volleyball and went for a swim, but you never got in the water. I didn’t understand why, because it was so damn hot that day. I knew you and Sam were close, so I asked him. I thought maybe you were scared of the water, and then he told me it was because you didn’t want any of us to see you in a swimsuit. I couldn’t believe it, and I sure as hell didn’t understand it, because you were the sexiest woman on that beach. Do you remember what I did?”
When she got out of this e
levator, the first thing she was going to do after taking a cold shower was kill Sam in a very slow and torturous way. She remembered that day like it was yesterday, not four and half years ago.
She didn’t know what possessed her to answer him, but she did. “How could I not remember what you did? I was sipping on my beer, enjoying the view of you guys shirtless, sweating, and playing volleyball—” He laughed at her comment, and she noticed he blushed. “Come on, as if you didn’t know you were the hottest guy on the beach that day—you guys probably still would be today, too. Anyways, you came over to me asking me to go swimming with you, and I told you I was fine staying right where I was, but you weren’t having it. After a few tries, you stopped asking and went back to play volleyball. I thought I was good, and then you came back to ask me if I wanted to go scuba diving. You knew I wouldn’t be able to say no to that.” She took a moment to gather her thoughts as she relived that day. He had been relentless, and looking back, she was thankful for it because it had turned into one of the best days of her life.
“But you know what got to me most that day? It was the fact that you remembered how obsessed I was with scuba diving. After you said those words, I didn’t care one bit about what I looked like in a bathing suit. I put my beer down, took my hat and sunglasses off, and slipped out of my cover-up.” That day had been so special for her. It was one of the first times in her life where she fully let go of her insecurities about her curvy body. It was a day that changed how she looked at herself. She still had those moments of doubts, but she was happy with her body now. He had helped her accept her curves; he’d made her feel beautiful.
He gripped her thigh tighter and pulled her leg closer to him. “When you took off that cover-up, I forgot how to breathe. I had pictured your body so many times before then, but nothing measured up to the real thing. To this day, that is one of the best days of my life. We went diving, and the look on your face was priceless. Then we spent time on the boat catching some rays, and you were so at ease that you forgot all about your insecurities of me seeing you in a swimsuit. When we got back to shore, we changed and went out for a drink at this little roadside dive bar. We talked until 3 a.m. It was perfect.”
Heart of the Music (Saints & Sinners #1) Page 3