by Mia Caldwell
"You're the photographer, huh?" he rumbled, his voice as deep as Barry White's. "Didn't expect you to be..." he paused meaningfully, "...young."
I grinned at him. "A lot of people find that startling," I said, letting what was unspoken hang in the air.
He nodded briskly in understanding and I knew all at once that I had made an important ally in Tanner's bodyguard. I drew myself up to my full height, which even in heels got me only as high as his armpit. "Monique Williams," I smiled, craning my neck to look him in the eye.
"Leo Willams, USMC retired."
"Nice to meet you, Leo."
"You as well, Miss Williams, and may I just say, you're a sight for sore eyes?"
I flashed him a megawatt smile and he clutched his heart in mock relief. "It's a real sausage factory around here, if you don't mind my saying so."
"I've heard way worse, Leo."
"And you're gonna. These boys? They're a handful."
I flashed to Tanner's lips and hoped the sallow airport lighting would hide my blush. "So I hear," I demurred.
"Now, don't get me wrong now," Leo hedged, holding up palms as big as dinner plates. "Mr. Brock is the best boss I've ever had. As far as celebrities go, he's a different breed." He smiled, showing blazing white teeth. "Can't say I care for his music though. I'm more of a jazz fan."
I laughed. "You sound like my Daddy," I said.
"Gee thanks," Leo grumbled, reaching down to grab my suitcases. "She says I sound like her daddy..." he said to himself, shaking his head as he lifted all three of my heavy suitcases as easily as if they were packed with powder puffs. "Showing up here, all of twelve years old, big shot photographer..."
"You sound like my Daddy again," I called to him. "Talkin' to yourself so I can hear you."
Leo chuckled and opened the van door for me. "I'm gonna be taking you right to the venue. The boys are all set up for a secret show to kick off the tour."
We chatted amiably on the ride from the airport, but the closer we got to the center of town, the more my heart jackhammered in my chest.
When I told Tanner it wouldn't work, it was because I thought there would be no way I would ever see him again.
And here I was, about to see him again.
Only problem was, so were about five hundred other people in what Leo was calling an "intimate gathering."
I couldn't pin down how that made me feel, so I tried to talk myself out of my feelings. This is strictly business; I'm going to be working this whole time. I informed myself. But the tingling excitement would not let go.
But the time Leo pulled up to the venue, I had worked myself up in to a sweaty dither. My head was bobbing around on my neck, trying to look everywhere at once.
"Lemme introduce you to the boys," Leo told me as he led us across the dusty parking lot to a huge tour bus behind the building.
As I stepped on to the bus, I pulled my camera from my back and clutched it close. If I was behind the lens, I was working and if I was working then I could have a prayer of keeping my cool.
Four white guys were lounging in the bus, as normal as anything. No reason for me to be as jumpy as a scalded cat. But no sign of Tanner and that meant that he was all I could think of. I missed the introductions entirely, laughed when it seemed appropriate and all the while my mind and body screamed out in unison. Tanner, Tanner, where the fuck is Tanner?
We tromped into the VIP section of the venue, a converted barn by the looks of it. When we were all seated, I leaned over to the longhaired guy on my right and finally gave voice to my obsession.
"Is Tanner coming?" I asked anxiously. I felt like I was ready to jump out of my skin.
"Yeah, he'll be here." The guitarist shot me a knowing grin and I flushed figuring he must hear women asking the same question all of the time. I wanted to protest, that I was different, that I wasn't just another girl who wanted to get at what Tanner Brock had in his pants, but before I could, the chatter in the place died down at once.
Electricity crackled in the air, and my own hair stood up from excitement...or fear...I wasn't exactly sure. It was like everyone in the club was as one, one single organism holding its breath in anticipation.
A long shadow moved across the stage. A tall, broad shouldered man striding across, his guitar slung over his back, nothing more....
That was all it took to make the room explode.
I exploded too. I couldn't help it. I whooped and hollered and shouted his name as he gripped the mic and stared out into the crowd. The longer he was silent, the louder we cheered and when the cameras zoomed to project the dimpled smile on his face onto the big screen, the screams grew higher in pitch. A pair of panties flew through the air.
"Tanner! Tanner!" I screamed his name, but was drowned out as the rest of the crowd took up my chant. "TAN-NER! TAN-NER! TAN-NER!" they screamed, drowning out my own calls.
"Hey everybody," he finally drawled. "Thanks for coming out tonight." He looked happy, and for some reason, that made me incredibly happy to see. Seeing him this way after the lonely intimacy of the ranch was like having a wonderful secret. He belonged to everyone else right now, but those moments at the ranch belonged only to me.
That is, before I told him no.
I clutched my camera and began to fire off shot after shot, losing myself in my work as Tanner sang his heart out. I got shots of his face, the way his body curved around his guitar like a lover, the reactions of the rapt audience and almost religious awe in the room.
Tanner Brock held us all in the palm of his hand, squeezing every drop of emotion out of us with only the power of his voice and guitar. After a long while, I found that I had lowered my camera and was just watching him.
The song was a crowd favorite. Everyone sang in one voice and when he ended it with a ringing chord, the house lights came on and we all cheered.
And Tanner Brock turned right to me.
Chapter Seventeen
Tanner
We had gone over the lighting cues in rehearsal, but I never expected it to be so perfect. The crowd knew every word of "Everwild." Hearing your words sung back to you...that never fails to lift me up. I looked out on the fans, finally able to see every individual face with the house lights up, and felt a moment of such rapture that I could have taken wing right there. And right in that moment....
I saw Monique.
It wasn't a surprise. I knew she'd be in the audience tonight. But seeing her face so clearly was a jolt I hadn't expected. She looked at me and I looked at her, and all the electricity that had been crackling between us before suddenly unleashed like a thunderstorm overhead.
"Thank you and goodnight!" I croaked into the mic. "Come backstage," I begged her with my eyes and bolted for the wings.
Carter and Blake were already there, clapping me on the back. "Fuck, I think you just put us out of a job, didn't you?" Carter growled.
"If you're wanting to start a solo career, just say the word and I'll get the fuck out," Blake laughed. "You can just mail me monthly checks to make sure I keep my mouth shut..."
"Hey, shut up a sec," I barked. "That girl sitting with you, where is she?"
"The photographer?" Carter asked, with a meaningfully raised eyebrow. "The one you made us all agree to take on without mentioning the fact that she's smoking hot?"
"Yeah, her," I snarled.
"Mo went to the bus, I think," Blake piped up. I bristled to hear him calling her a nickname already. "Said something about grabbing her flash?"
Smart girl. I bolted for the door. "All right boys, guess we're drinkin' in here for a spell," Carter guffawed.
Dickhead.
Whenever I'm onstage, I lose track of time. Twenty minutes might have gone by, or a whole week. I lose myself in the music and when I emerge into the real world again, it's with the jarring confusion of a man waking from a coma. Or a dream.
But if seeing Monique Williams outside of my tour bus, biting her beautiful plump lips nervously, was a dream, then fuck me if I ever wan
ted to wake up.
I wanted to tell her how much I appreciated her coming. I wanted to tell her how much I wanted to set things right between us. I wanted to tell her how beautiful her dark skin looked in the Virginia twilight. I wanted to write her poetry, set it to music and play her a love ballad right the fuck now.
But, like an ass, I said the first thing that came to my mind. "You're here."
That nervous lipbite disappeared and the steel in her eyes hardened. "Of course I'm here, Mr. Brock," she sighed, staring me down. "You summoned me and I had no choice but to come running."
Fuck, how did I screw this up? "That's not what I meant," I protested. God, I just wanted to hold her, but now I couldn't touch her at all. "I was saying, fuck, hello Monique."
Her eyes narrowed. "Hello Tanner." She exhaled forcefully. "Can I get some pictures of your tour bus?"
I clenched my fists. "Strictly business?" I lashed out at her. This was not how I pictured this moment. It was taking everything I had not to shake her silly, then kiss her until she gasped.
"While I'm here," she shot back, every word laced with venom.
Hearing my own words used against me was the last straw. In two steps, I had her pinned up against the bus. She yelped a little, but didn't say anything, only stared daggers at me, holding me ferociously in her dark gaze. I brushed my fingers up her shoulder, then clamped my hand around the back of her neck. "Let's fucking try this again," I hissed. Her mouth was mere centimeters away from mine and at the rate the blood was collecting in my groin area, I didn't have much more brain power left. "It's good to see you Monique. I've been thinking about your body for the past two weeks. Tell me you've been thinking about me too."
"Tanner," she hissed my name in a way that got me impossibly hard. "You arrogant, self-assured son of a bitch...."
"Yeah that's good baby, let me have it."
"Fuck off."
"I'll fuck whatever you want me to."
"Dammit, Tanner," her voice rose higher. "Why do you have to be so infuriatingly...."
"Don't yell, baby, we'll get an audience."
"I told you not to call me baby!"
I could hear voices behind us. "Stop yelling!" I shouted, clamping my hand over her mouth and hustling her up the stairs into the tour bus. "People are going to think...."
She screamed and sank her teeth right into the web between my thumb and forefinger.
"God dammit!" I roared. "What the fuck did you do that for?!"
"I don't know!" she screamed, her eyes glittering. "I'm scared, okay? Is that what you want me to say? You want me to fall apart so you can hold me and be the big strong cowboy?"
"No," I growled. "I want you to kiss my hand all better."
She froze. "Are you playing with me?"
"No," I said, extending my hand. The semicircle bite mark had gone from white to angry red. "Kiss it better, Monique."
Chapter Eighteen
Monique
It was too overwhelming. His nearness, my fear, his desire, my loneliness - they all bunched up in my brain. I didn't know what to do.
So I did what he said. I kissed it better.
The heat of his skin under my lips was scalding. He moved his hand slightly when my lips made contact, brushing my mouth so it was like his hand was kissing me.
That one motion, featherlight but completely in control, was my undoing. I closed my eyes, waiting. There was only one thing that could happen next.
He cupped his fingers under my throat then, and tipped my chin upward. This time I wanted the kiss. This time I was waiting, my whole body shivering eagerly in anticipation.
When it didn't come, I opened my eyes. The fathomless blue depths of his were mere inches from mine. "Ah, there she is," he whispered.
"Are you going to kiss me?" I taunted.
"Yes...but that's not all I'm going to do Monique." His voice was a ragged gasp, terrifying and thrilling at the same time. He was holding me so tightly, I was sure there would be marks on my skin, but his words were holding me even tighter. "I'm going to take my time with you. I'm going to watch you watching me with those eyes of yours, and then I'm going to make them roll back in your head. Does that sound good to you?"
I shivered a little and he clutched me even tighter. "Pretty confident in yourself, aren't you Tanner Brock?" I gasped.
"Yup."
There were no more words after that. Even if I wanted to, protest, my words were stolen by his lips covering mine.
He brushed the tip of his tongue against my lips, finding my weak spot until I gave in with a sigh and pressed against him.
Slow, melting heat spread everywhere he touched, and his hands were soon touching me everywhere. He maneuvered me backwards until my heel caught against the lip of the bunk. We fell backwards in a tangle of limbs.
I wanted this. I had never wanted anything more in my life than to have Tanner Brock's body on top of mine, his hips rolling and undulating with the promise of pleasure to come. But the wanting, no, the longing was too intense. I was losing control too quickly. It was frightening and fear made me angry. I squirmed underneath him, wrenching my hand out from his grasp. "Stop," I panted.
He pulled back. "You sure about that?" he growled, catching my wrist and pinning it above my head.
I arched into him, my body betraying me. "No. Yes. Dammit."
He stared at me, breathing heavily, our bodies fused together. We both knew that if we moved from this moment, this strange, torturous dance we had been clumsily attempting would be over. What came next would decide everything. And he was waiting.
Waiting for me.
Slowly, as if pulled by a magnetic force, I drew my face to the hollow at his neck. His skin, bronzed dark in the low light of the tour bus, was still flushed and overheated. I flicked my tongue out, tasting the salt on his skin, and then pressed my lips there on that spot. I could feel his pulse beating in his throat, strong and sure.
Trailing my lips to the place where his neck met his shoulder, I pressed another kiss, loving how his breath drew in sharply.
The floodgates of desire flew open. I growled low in my throat and then bit down.
He hissed, then growled. "You little...." He cupped his hand around my neck and pushed my head back, dislodging my teeth. I fell back panting. "Try to do it again," he growled, staring at me.
I snapped my teeth at him and he slammed his lips into mine. Holding me down with the force of his kiss, he yanked my shirt up and slid his hands along my waist, then up to my bra. I arched my back and he slid the catch with a deft motion, freeing my breasts from their prison. My nipples were already tightly puckered and as hard as diamonds. My whole body was so swollen with need that I felt ready to burst.
"If I stop kissing you, are you gonna bite me again?" he rasped into my ear as his thumb and forefinger tweaked my peaks.
"Not if you keep doing that," I groaned. Sharp sparks of painful pleasure swirled outward each time he rolled them in his fingers.
He grinned. "Ah, so you like it when it hurts a little?" He cupped my throat again, tighter this time, and my eyes rolled back in my head. "That's what I wanted to see," he growled, his voice thick and choked with lust. "How about if I do this?"
He slid his fingers down from my breasts and under the waistband of my jeans. The hot center of my need was throbbing painfully, and when his fingers brushed against the swollen nub, I drew in a sharp breath and arched upward, but his big hand at my throat held me firm.
"No, you stay right there," he hissed, yanking at my zipper. "I'm gonna have me a little fun, now. You owe me after that bite, Monique. That's my strummin' hand."
He slid his hands underneath my ass, cupping it.
And then he flipped me like a pancake.
I landed facedown on his bunk with a squawk. "What the fuck...?" I demanded, pushing myself back up with my arms.
But he pressed his big hand across my back and pushed me back down. Then he lifted my ass higher, draping my legs over the side of the bunk so
that I was half lying, half kneeling.
"I've wanted to take you over my knee since I met you," he growled, yanking my jeans down to my knees. Then he slid my panties down, a little more slowly, exposing my naked ass to the world. Cool air hit the hot flesh of my core and I shivered. "But this damn bus is too cramped to do it properly, so I'm going to have to settle for...this"