by Eden Summers
It wasn’t like Scott’s abhorrent behavior was a shock. The underhanded, manipulative schemes instigated by their label were more common than not. When it came to corporate greed, there were no limits.
“Talk to me.”
She swallowed. “What do you want me to say?”
“I want you to say you’ll give us a chance, and that you’re confident we can find a way to make this work. I want you to tell me you’ll let me take what I’ve been dreaming about for nights on end. I want to hear you say you want this with the same conviction I’ve seen in your eyes for years.”
She sucked in a breath. “I want you…”
He opened his mouth to speak but she placed a finger over his lips, her heartache returning with vengeance.
“But trust that I’ve been thinking about this longer than you have. I’ve watched my employer fire numerous staff who became involved with clients.” Her shoulders sagged as she leaned further into the wall. “They won’t let me out of my contract either. Their commission for me working with you is too substantial to the company.”
“We’ll figure it out.” He pressed his hips into hers and she groaned with the warmth. The perfection. “Trust me.”
He leaned closer, their breath mingling, her heart latching onto his. She was a deer. A wild, brainless forest animal staring into the bright lights of an oncoming truck. Any minute now she’d be run through. Any damn minute.
“No.” She placed a hand on his chest. On his hard, whimper-inducing chest. “I can’t kiss you again.”
His eyes met hers with gentle defiance. “Why?”
“Because there’s no future in it.”
“I disagree.” He leaned further into her, his lips descending. So close. Too close. “Tell me I’m right in assuming you want this. Tell me you’re not going to slap me this time.”
“You remember?” Her words were barely audible as he crept closer, breathing her in.
“I remember every horrific second. You may not believe me, but I’ve imagined kissing you for a damn long time. I never thought, if given the chance, that I would’ve ruined it.”
“You had a lot going on.” She latched onto his biceps, holding tight. “You still do.”
“Not enough to stop me doing this.”
The bristles of his beard hit her first, a rough sweep before the smoothest of lips were upon hers. All she could breathe was him, the deliriously mind-numbing aftershave she’d phantom-smelled for months.
A mass of uncontrollable tingles took over her body and the ripple of his muscles under her palms made her moan. She could feel him everywhere. His hips, chest, hair. But nothing could beat the buzz of sensation that ignited when his tongue parted her lips, the gentle stroke devastating her foundations.
He kissed like a man in love. Like a man who needed to prove a point.
Then all her senses pinpointed to her pelvis and the unmistakable grind of his erection. She gasped against his mouth, her lips no longer kissing, his kiss no longer coaxing.
“Too far?” he whispered.
Was it? She didn’t know. The only thing that made sense was sensation and the need for more.
“No.” They were barely brushing the surface. They had so much further to go. Thousands of dreams to fulfil. Millions of lonely nights to make up for. She wouldn’t be sated until this was body to body, skin to skin. “Not this time.”
She gripped his shirt, her eyes on his as she tugged him closer.
His groan was her undoing, the sound defining her, making her strong in a situation where she’d always been weak.
“Kiss me.”
He complied, this time without finesse or tenderness. This connection was harsh. Almost vicious in its hysteria. His hand found the hem of her blouse, his scorching fingers moving under the material to sear her belly. The trail of his palm was authoritative. His fingertips branding her with their abrasive grip, demanding ownership as they approached painfully hardening nipples. She’d always wondered what his touch would be like. Rough or smooth. Lustful or loving.
The strength in his hold dissolved her worries. The intensity of his mouth erased all concern. She was cocooned in a happiness bubble, each breath a double-dose of hunger. Nothing could tear her away from him. Nothing but the sound of creaking hinges overhead and the soft footfalls of someone approaching.
She broke the kiss and clung to his shirt.
“What is it?”
His words fanned her cheeks, his lips moving to her jaw, then her neck. His touch was still under her blouse, his exploration moving higher as her gaze caught hold of another pair of eyes peering down at her from the staircase above.
“Shit.” She shoved at him.
“Sorry,” Felicity called before backing out of view. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
There were rushed footsteps, another squeak of rusted hinges and then silence. Painful, arduous silence that slid panic into the place where passion had once been. The blood drained from her face, making her lightheaded as Ryan stared at her, his chest rising and falling with deep breaths.
“Don’t worry about Flick.”
“Don’t worry?” She straightened her blouse, unable to look him in the eye. “You trust my career with that woman?”
“I wouldn’t entrust your happiness with anyone. But I’ll speak to her.”
He reached out, and professional instinct had her backing away.
“I’ll tell her to keep quiet.” He straightened his shoulders, defensive. “Don’t you dare pull away from me now.”
“I’m not pulling away.” Not really. Her body was still all up in his business, palpitating, shaking, coursing with adrenaline. Her head, on the other hand, was in reverse, trying to steer through the hysteria of an oncoming tidal wave.
“You’re in panic mode. I’ve seen it before.” He reached out again, this time encapsulating her wrist in loose fingers. “About three months ago, to be exact.”
“Felicity found us together, of course I’m panicked.” She pleaded with her eyes, trying to convince him of the obvious danger even though her anxiety was much more complicated. “Please go after her.”
“I will. But then I’m coming after you.”
No.
No, no, no. She needed to regroup, to find her misplaced sanity, and most of all, tear Mason a new one for talking her into something so addictive and destructive. She should’ve had a plan before attempting this career-suicide mission. There was always a plan.
“What’s your room number?” His thumb rubbed back and forth against her skin, hypnotizing her into submission. Nothing compared to the lazy graze of his finger. She was being worshipped with the simplest of touches. He was reverence personified. “Your room number, Leah?”
“409.”
“409,” he repeated in a seductive drawl, making the three digits sound like an erotic password. “Give me a few minutes and I’ll be there.”
He smacked her with another kiss, then dropped the hold on her wrist and fled up the stairs, two at a time.
She didn’t move, didn’t even breathe until the door above opened and quickly slammed shut again. Damn it. Her limbs were tingling, her organs somersaulting. Her lady bits were salivating in the only way lady bits could.
“Idiot.” She pushed from the wall and hurried out of the stairwell. She was barefoot, disheveled, and probably pregnant from the efficiency of that kiss. The professional, always immaculate Leah was lost, rushing into the elevator and down the hotel hall like a lovesick fool until she was safely inside the sanctuary of her room.
Her laptop taunted her from the kitchenette counter, reminding her of her job and the video amassing views from last night’s show. Her slip couldn’t have come at a worse time. There was the divorce, the tour, the supposedly gay fake girlfriends… The list described a circus program.
Her circus. Her monkeys.
How could she have stooped so low?
She strode for the bathroom, wrenched on the sink taps, and drowned her face in water to wash away the
insanity. She could still feel his lips, could still taste him. But she couldn’t let it linger. If it sank under her skin, buried itself in her veins, she wouldn’t be able to regain control. And control was what she needed.
Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.
She’d been caught in a position the world could never find out about. Caught by a threesome-loving lesbian who had her mitts all over Ryan on a daily basis.
Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.
Her cell beeped over the sound of the running water and she ignored it. Ignored everything the universe had to offer because an apocalypse was gaining strength in her mind. This time she couldn’t chalk the kiss up to unexpected psychosis. She’d gone to his room. She’d instigated the downfall.
Stupid. Stupid. Fucking stupid.
She shut off the water and dried her face on a towel, ignoring yet another message beep on her cell. Then it was her door, harsh knocks against the wood.
“Leah.”
She closed her eyes briefly and exhaled the growing tightness under her ribs. She couldn’t see him so soon. Her strength hadn’t returned yet. Nor her sanity. So she tiptoed to the door, placing her hand and her forehead against the thick barrier between them.
“It’s OK,” his voice was loud, deliberately taunting her fear of him making a scene. “I can wait.”
She peered through the peep hole and sucked in a breath at his carefree lean against the far wall of the hall. He was looking directly at her, his grin smug.
“How long do you think you’re going to make me wait?” His lips curved higher. “Maybe I should get Mason to come keep me company.”
“Jesus fucking Christ,” she whispered. He was threatening her.
“I can hear you.” He placed a booted foot against the wall and crossed his arms to look lazily down the hall. “I’m sure all the guys will come searching for me when I don’t arrive at sound check. Then we could talk this through as a group.”
Gorgeous bastard.
She sighed and opened the door a crack. “Did you speak to her?”
“I went back to my room, told her not to repeat what she walked in on, and then came straight down here.”
“Ryan—” she nudged the door wider, “—you need to tell her why. This is important.”
“I know it is, and I’ll fill her in later. Right now, you’re my main concern.” He pushed from the wall.
“I shouldn’t be.” She shook her head. “Nothing happened.” Her voice was frantic as she tried to erase the past. It was a mistake. She needed to keep reminding herself, otherwise her future was going to slide down the drain like boiling grease. And the way he looked at her. Gah! Those eyes. Those penetrating, soulful eyes.
“Bullshit.” He approached, his authority growing before her. His confidence far more prevalent than she was used to. “Everything happened. Every god damn thing that should’ve been happening for years.”
She swallowed, otherwise she would’ve whimpered, or mewled, or done some other pathetically weak thing to undermine her future as band manager. “Don’t be like this.”
“Like what?” He placed his hand against the door, his gaze gliding from her face, to her heating neck, and then back to her lips. He’d never looked at her like that before. Not like she was a woman and he was a man. It was always a friendly appreciation. A glance filled with love and kindness but amiable nonetheless. “Like a guy who’s finally sick of being a spineless asshole all for the sake of a wife who never loved him. This is me, Leah. This is me demanding what I’ve wanted for too long.”
Silence.
She had no words. She could barely breathe.
He took another step and she retreated as he moved into her room. She was always retreating. Always the weaker party when it came to him.
“What are you thinking?” he murmured.
She let her hands fall to her sides and concentrated on keeping her fingers still. “I’m thinking that I want you to leave.”
“That’s a lie.”
“No.” She shook her head. “It’s not. I need you to walk out that door and pretend we didn’t just lose our minds. Please, Ryan. For the sake of my job.”
His lips lifted in a sad smile. “You know I can’t do that. Not again.”
She turned away, trying to determine what she could say to make him leave. She couldn’t hurt him. Not anymore. But he couldn’t stay either. Not when her fingers were tingling with the need to touch and her heart was pounding with yearning beats.
“I know you’re scared.”
Those words kept getting repeated. Maybe it was time to listen. She’d dropped her warrior status long ago and hadn’t been anyone of strength for a while now. Not since Australia when she lost a part of herself. And definitely not since the news of his divorce.
“I’m petrified,” she admitted. “I’m scared sick of what I might lose.”
“Have you thought of what you might gain?”
“The fairytale of happily ever after?” She raised a brow. “Apart from me not being a fairytale kinda girl, I don’t think your marriage, your girlfriends, and our careers will allow for it.”
“It won’t be easy, but you know I can make you happy.”
Her heart clenched, trying to cling to his promise.
“Admit it, Leah.” He remained near the door, not encroaching, not demanding, because his words did that all on their own. “If it weren’t for external influences, we’d be perfect together.”
Her lips wouldn’t let her deny him, nor would she allow them to speak the truth. He was right. If life didn’t exist outside this hotel room, she would be undeniably happy. But the world was there, on the other side of that door, simply waiting for its chance to strike.
“Take as long as you need to think about it.” He leaned his shoulder into the wall, taking a casual stance. “I’ll wait around until you’re ready to admit it.”
She released a breathy chuckle. “You’re going to stand there until I surrender?”
“This isn’t a battle. There’s no surrender. You need to quit fighting and just acknowledge the truth.”
She opened her mouth, prepared to give him the speech on contractual obligations, but he cut her off.
“You spend too much time fixated on problems instead of focusing on what you want and what we could have together.”
“Believe me, I’ve focused enough on both.” She threw her arms up in the air. “There. I admitted it.”
He inclined his head. “Now prove it. Throw caution to the wind and give me a Leah-instigated kiss. Convince me I’m not alone in this obsession.”
She shook her head. “Don’t make me do that.”
“I’d never make you do anything. But we both know the last thing you want to be doing is thinking.”
“Thinking is constructive. Thinking is—”
“Safe. Yeah, I know.” Hope left his features. “Do you really want me to go?”
Her stubborn mind said yes. Every other molecule in her body screamed no.
He sighed and reached for the door.
“Wait.”
He straightened, chin high, shoulders rigid. Each glide of her toes along the carpet increased her rapid pulse. It was hard to breathe. Hard to strategize and scheme.
“Stop thinking.”
“I can’t.” She was a thinker. It was her thing. Plan, plan, plan. “If I stop thinking, I’ll never want you to leave this room.”
“Then we’ll both get what we want.”
She encroached, coming toe to toe, thigh to thigh, and again, became sucked into the lascivious vortex. “Don’t tease.”
“Tease?” He flinched. “Working with you for years, knowing I could never have you, was a tease. This right here is the exact opposite. We can be together. We can work this out. Make no mistake, Leah, I’m all yours.”
His fingers glided over her hip, gentle in touch yet jolting in effect.
“One kiss,” she demanded. “No hands.”
He held up his palms in surrender. “One kiss. No h
ands.”
Her heart was beating too fast. Her palms were sweating. It was as if her world hung in the balance. Be careful or careless. Be selfless or sinful. She was dying to taste those lips and tangle with his tongue. She yearned to see his shirt on the floor, his jeans around his ankles, and his cock deep in the back of her throat. But… But…
“I’m waiting,” he whispered.
“Give me a second.” She needed to work herself up to this. To suppress her fears and anxieties. Her career… Her family… Her future…
She swallowed on her approach, knowing this was the end. She couldn’t deny him. Couldn’t hold back. He remained still as she tilted her head and brushed her mouth over his. She kissed him, slow and soft and sweet. There was no world. No Leah. Only lips and teeth and tongues. There was only comfort and relief. Necessity and instinct.
She was kissing Ryan—the man of her dreams. And he was kissing her back, increasing her fascination with the deft way he made her burn. It wasn’t in a dingy stairwell, or in a drunken binge. This was a connection without risk, without harm. Until he gripped her hips and ground into her, sending an explosion of warmth to her pussy.
She found strength to wiggle from his grip. “You agreed, no hands.” She glared at the laughter in his eyes and turned to walk away, only to be wrapped back up in his arms.
“Don’t kid yourself. You knew I’d never hold up my end of the bargain.”
His breath tickled her neck, his chest deliciously hard and warm behind her. She wanted to be annoyed, wanted to be able to muster a growl, only her smile was too rebellious. The happiness too intense. Ryan was here. In her room. His arms around her, inspiring perfection, bringing her dreams to life. But the higher he took her, the harder she had to fall, right?
“You’re going to be late.” She turned in his embrace and stared back at eyes that were idolizing her. “Again.”
“Is that code for—I need time to obsess over what we just did?”
He knew her. Knew her so well. “Maybe.”
His lips kicked. “You’ve got thirty minutes. We can catch a ride to the stadium together.”
Thirty minutes wouldn’t be enough. Thirty years didn’t seem adequate. She needed to strategize and come up with an infallible plan to make this work. A plan she’d unsuccessfully strived to create for years, and now had to achieve within minutes. “I’ll be there.” As soon as she showered, changed, and found some Valium. “The lobby in thirty minutes.”