by Christi Snow
His footsteps echoed down the metal stairs. “Dillon, you want some more fucking hot sex?” Trace called across the room from the staircase.
“Um, yeah, I’m up,” Dillon answered, although he sounded a bit wary and confused.
“Then, let’s go,” Trace said.
He grabbed hold of Dillon’s arm and pulled him out the door just as I got to the bottom of the stairs. “Trace, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it that...”
The door slammed behind them, and I rushed over to it, ready to follow my hurt best friend.
But just as I reached for the handle, Jonah grabbed my arm. “No, you don’t,” he said. “There’s no way you’re going out there in only a towel.”
My head dropped to my chest, knowing he was right. Dammit.
I hadn’t been thinking. I never would have said that otherwise.
“Hey.” Jonah put his finger under my chin and lifted it. “What happened?”
I closed my eyes in pain. “I said something without thinking, and Trace took it personally.” I was such an awful friend. I knew Trace took things like that to heart. It didn’t matter that I had spoken without thinking, and I sure hadn’t been talking about him. My words had been totally thoughtless, and I’d hurt him.
Tears filled my eyes, so I kept them closed so Jonah wouldn’t see. I tried to pull away from his grasp, but he didn’t let go.
“Look at me,” he commanded.
I didn’t have the energy to argue with him, so I complied. Compassion shone from his gaze.
“It’s going to be okay,” he said. “Emotions were already running high because both him and Dillon were embarrassed about us walking in on them. Give him some time and I bet tomorrow he’ll be over it.”
“I hope so.” Because he was leaving tomorrow, and I didn’t know if I could face him being gone for months if he left angry with me.
Jonah touched my neck, and his eyes darkened. He lifted his finger. “You have bubbles...”
His eyes dropped to where the water beaded on my skin above the towel, and I became innately aware that I was completely naked under the damp fabric. And it might be thick, but I’d been soaking wet when I wrapped it around my breasts, so now, it clung to every curve and dip.
It was suddenly hard to breathe, but this had nothing to do with a panic attack. I self-consciously licked my lips, and his hot gaze followed the move. Tingles erupted low in my belly. Panic shot up my spine. I stepped back from him. That seemed to break the spell my wet, naked skin had wrought.
“I’m sorry. I need to go get dressed.” My voice sounded husky to me.
He swallowed and nodded quickly. “Good idea.” His voice croaked on the words.
I fled up the stairs and just prayed I wasn’t giving him a flash of my bare ass as I went, since I could feel him watching me the whole way up.
Once I was up in my loft bedroom, I pressed my hand to my chest. My heart raced below my fingertips, and I blew out a silent breath.
I could hear Jonah walking around on the wooden floor from below. He must think I was the biggest idiot, fleeing like a little girl. I rolled my eyes. My inexperience couldn’t be more obvious or more embarrassing. God.
Maybe I should do what Trace had said. Use Jonah to fix this pesky virginity issue. Would that be so awful? God, it could be. Dread circled in the pit of my stomach, churning up doubts and worries.
I shook my head. I needed to get dressed and distract myself. My guitar stood in the corner of the room. It had been entirely too long since I picked it up, since before I’d gone home to Austin. My mother couldn’t know I wrote music, or she would exploit that part of me, too. But now, that instrument called to me like a long-forgotten friend. I needed the escape into music tonight. I’d just have to try to keep it quiet, so Jonah wouldn’t hear. Maybe I’d wait until after he went to bed...
Chapter Seven
Jonah
I sat up in the club chair and grabbed my gun out of my shoulder holster, taking in my surroundings, searching for the sound that had dragged me from sleep.
About half an hour after Elle escaped up the stairs, I’d decided she wasn’t coming back. I’d turned off all the lights and was in the process of checking the buildings around us by looking out the darkened windows in the living room when the music began. The most soulful, gorgeous guitar playing accompanied by Elle’s beautiful, deep alto voice. The combination created a resonating sound that sent goosebumps down my arms.
I must have fallen asleep, listening to her, because a glance at my watch showed it to be three o’clock in the morning, and I was sprawled out on the club chair.
Then I heard it again...the soft, whimpering, scared sound...coming from Elle’s bedroom in the loft above.
Palming my gun, I quietly crept up the stairs. Since I’d been asleep, my eyes were adjusted to the dark, which was good. I didn’t know the layout of the apartment good enough to do it blind yet. Not without making a sound.
At the top of the stairs, I stilled, took a deep breath, and then carefully crouched and eased around the half wall that divided the bedroom from the staircase. At first glance, I couldn’t see anything, although the distressed sounds coming from Elle seemed to be increasing.
I stood slowly.
Elle flailed in the bed, obviously in the throes of a nightmare. I holstered my gun, blew out a breath of relief, and debated how to proceed. I doubted very much that she would want me to see her like this...upset and vulnerable. But as a little cry erupted from her mouth, I didn’t think I could abandon her and leave her alone to her nightmares, either.
I tiptoed toward the large bed. On her nightstand was some sort of nightlight and sound maker combination machine. It sent a dark-purple glow over the room, highlighting the fact that Elle slept in a dark pair of tiny, lace panties and thin, white, tank top. I swallowed against my suddenly dry throat and the instant lust that slammed into my groin.
She’d kicked off the covers as her legs and arms twitched in reaction to whatever images had invaded her subconscious.
“No,” she moaned.
I couldn’t force myself to leave. I sank to the mattress beside her. “Elle, you’re having a nightmare.” I gently rubbed over her upper arm and shoulder. “Come on, baby. Wake up. There are no bad guys here. You just have to open those gorgeous brown eyes and see.”
She thrashed a little more, but I could tell the moment she woke up because every muscle in her body stiffened.
“It’s okay. It’s just me, Jonah. You were having a nightmare.”
“Jonah?” Her voice sounded wet and scared.
It made me want to gather her in my arms. Something that I never should have considered. She was my client. Nothing else.
“Yeah. I’m sorry to invade your room, but I had to make sure that you were okay.”
She shuddered. “Thank you.” She breathed out. “Thanks for waking me up.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“No.” Her laugh still sounded way too watery for my liking. “But could you...” She took another deep, shuddery breath. “Could you stay with me for a little bit?” Her voice sounded so small, and she sounded so young.
“Absolutely. Scoot over.” I took off my shoulder holster, set it on the nightstand, and slid into the bed beside her, wrapping my arm around her shoulder when she snuggled up against my chest. Her skin was ice cold, so I reached down to tug the comforter up the bed to tuck her in.
She fingered my shirt. “You’re still dressed.”
“Yeah, I fell asleep on the chair below while listening to you play.”
She stiffened, and I thought for a moment that she was going to pull away. “Sorry,” she muttered. “I thought you’d gone to bed.”
“Don’t ever apologize for the sounds you were creating earlier tonight. You’re very talented. I didn’t realize you played.”
She shook her head. “When you’re ViviAnna’s daughter, you don’t tell people things like that, or else they develop expectations.”
I frowne
d at that. “Expectations?”
“When people find out that ViviAnna’s my mom, they automatically assume things about me...I’m loose, I’m a spoiled bitch, and I’m going into the music business. I already have this ‘in,’ so why wouldn’t I? Even if I don’t have any talent, because my mom is my mom, I’m pretty much guaranteed a success. That’s why they have music mixers and DJs. With the electronics today, they can make anyone sound good. Before I play or sing a single note, it’s already assumed I’m a no-talent hack that got by on my mom’s credentials.”
“That’s not right.”
“Right doesn’t come into play in the music business. Hell, even my mother has given it up.”
“What?” I tried to think back to the last time ViviAnna had released an album and couldn’t come up with it, but I’d never been a die-hard fan of hers. I’d just assumed she was still making music.
“VA was the original pop princess. As a result, it took her a long time to be given the chances she fought for. Before she was ever a singer, she was a songwriter, but the only way to get any of her music published was to sell it to other people. After she had a handful of songs go platinum for other artists, her label finally gave her the chance she’d been trying to get. Her final album, Work It, was all her own music...she wrote and produced every song on that one.”
“Wait, I remember something about that. They were shooting a music video...”
“Yeah, the first two songs were released three weeks apart, and both of them almost immediately hit number one. The presales of the album were through the roof. Because of the positive PR the album was getting, they went all out for the funding for the making of the first video for the title song. They’d planned to create a mini-movie out of the video. Now, that kind of thing is commonplace, but back then, it was unheard of to put that kind of backing behind a music video. But then tragedy struck on the final day of shooting. VA’s stuntwoman fell from the helicopter. She wasn’t wearing a parachute or safety harness.”
Elle took a shuddering breath. “The paparazzi had been hounding the video production, and there was video footage of her fall and her body smashing into the ground. It was horrific. A huge investigation and trial followed, and the music label threw VA under the bus. The fallout took its toll, and VA swore she’d never make music again...and she hasn’t.”
As Elle had talked, she’d begun to run her hand over my chest. It was distracting in the very best way.
“The sad thing is,” Elle continued, “if you listen to that album, the songs are absolutely brilliant. VA has the talent to be one of the best songwriters of our time, but she doesn’t write music at all anymore, not even for other artists. And needless to say, she’s not performing, either. So, if the music business did that to my mom—who’s honestly one of the strongest, most independently willed women I’ve ever met—someone like me doesn’t stand a chance.”
I considered that for a moment. “Would you want to be part of the music business? You seem to really hate everything that it’s brought to your mom’s life.”
“Good point,” she said, sounding sleepy and more relaxed. “I don’t know. Right now, I just like writing the music.” She yawned wide. “Maybe someday, I’ll share it with someone who matters.”
As her body relaxed into sleep, I tried not to jolt from the unintentional barb. Of course, she wouldn’t count me as someone who mattered. I was just a bodyguard that she’d only known for two days. I certainly had no influence on her or the music business. She was a client to me. And she hadn’t chosen to share it with me. I’d eavesdropped and found her talent on my own.
But that didn’t ease the unexpected sting that her words caused or the sudden, shocking reality of what I wanted. Lying here, holding her in my arms, I wanted to be someone who mattered in her life. And that was a first in my life.
My life was my job, and nothing would ever get in the way of that. I certainly didn’t have anything else to offer to anyone, and most definitely not to the delicate, but strong, amazing woman in my arms.
THE NEXT MORNING, I didn’t want to wake up since I was having the best dream. My girl’s ass was tucked in hard against my groin. She was driving me crazy as she wiggled against me. I kneaded her breast in my hand, and her nipple beaded against my palm as she arched into my touch. That arch drove her pussy harder against my aching erection.
It all felt so good. So good, in fact, I was in serious danger of shooting off in my jeans. My balls ached, and I thrust hard against her, looking for more friction. What I really needed was penetration. I just knew her pussy would be so tight.
With the hand not preoccupied by her breast, I tested her readiness for me. Dripping wet, just like I expected. I lowered my lips to her bare shoulder. “So sexy,” I murmured as my fingers thrust into all that molten, wet heat.
She groaned, and her muscles clamped down on my fingers. So damn tight.
“Jonah,” she groaned my name.
I startled awake, freezing in place. This wasn’t a dream. Elle didn’t realize I’d been asleep, and she continued to ride my hand. My cock throbbed harder, all ready to shoot off at the slightest provocation.
“Please,” she whimpered, as she writhed against me, searching for completion.
Doing this with her went against every rule we had at Hawk Works. But I was helpless to resist her pleading, especially when I’d inadvertently been the one to get her so revved up. I delved my fingers deeper. Just the idea of how that tight channel would feel on my dick had it flexing against the way-too-confining placket of my jeans and left a wet spot on my boxer briefs.
As I slowly rotated my fingers inside her, I gently tweaked the swollen hood of her clit with my thumb. She hissed in a breath and let it back out on a long moan.
My thighs and ass clenched as I fought the urge to grind up against her. I could get her off, but I had to maintain at least the slightest shred of professionalism. I would not be searching for my own completion. Her breaths panted out, and I could feel her heart racing below her breast as her core tightened.
She was so close. Her muscles gripped my fingers and trembled.
“Come for me, Elle.”
She shuddered, and when I tapped my thumb against her sensitive clit, she keened out sobs as her climax overtook her. Every muscle inside her channel clamped down on my fingers.
Just imagining how her orgasm would feel on my hard cock had me moaning right along with her. Damn, the girl was so sexy without even trying. I wanted her more than I could ever remember wanting a woman before.
She clung to my arms as the vibrations rolled through her, her face buried into my bicep. The little sounds she made were almost as pretty as the songs she wrote. The idea of bringing them out of her again and again was not helping the desperate state of my hard-on.
Eventually her orgasm ended, and the only sound in the dark room was the gasps of our continued heavy breathing.
She turned over in my arms and gazed up at me while she cupped the side of my face. “Why didn’t you...” With her other hand, she rubbed my still-throbbing length through my jeans.
I shut my eyes at the pure ecstasy of just how good it felt to have her hand on me over the fabric. But I had to get back in control of the situation before I rolled her over, stripped us naked, and buried my dick so far inside her, we wouldn’t know where one of us ended and the other began. I laid my hand over hers and stopped her stroking.
She frowned, the purple glow of the nightlight letting me see glimpses of her expression. “Why?”
“Because this morning was just for you. You’re too sexy to resist. Waking up with you like that...” I shook my head. I never should have done it, but I couldn’t tell her that. I didn’t want her to think I regretted it, even if I should. “Well, let’s just say it was pretty damn perfect already.”
She squeaked out a small, embarrassed sound, but her fingers still rested against my way too tight jeans. Her hand twitched, and it took everything I had in me to carefully lift her palm
from me when I wanted more of that, not less.
“It doesn’t feel right.”
I choked. “Excuse me?”
She giggled. “Not that.” Her voice lowered to a sultry, seductive timber. “No, that feels just about perfect. I meant that it doesn’t seem right to leave you hanging like this. Doesn’t it...I don’t know...hurt or something?”
Were we really going to lie here in bed with the smell of her on my fingers and my cock still throbbing, and actually talk about the pros and cons of blue balls?
I let out a laugh. “It’s fine. It will subside in a little bit.” And if it didn’t, I could take care of business in my shower. “I promise you that no matter what anyone has ever told you, no guy has ever died from blue balls. Don’t ever let a sleazy argument like that sway you to do something you’re not ready for.”
She squeaked again. “That’s not... I mean, no one’s ever... I’m not...” She took a deep breath, and I wondered what the problem was. She seemed so much more embarrassed now than she had been just moments ago.
“Hey, sweetness.” I lifted her chin. “It’s okay. I won’t ever push you for something unless you’re completely ready for it.”
“What if I said I’m ready now?” Her tremulous voice said that she was as far from ready as possible.
“Then I’d say ‘thank you,’ but we have shutter installers who are going to be here in about thirty minutes, so we can’t waste anymore time in bed.”
“Oh, okay.” She glanced over at the windows and nodded. “Um, yeah.” Her voice sounded a little strained, but I wasn’t sure if that was the subject matter or the huge windows that still made her obviously uncomfortable.
She hopped out of bed like it was suddenly on fire. “Okay, well, I’m going to go take a shower, so we can get this day going.” She sounded totally upbeat, like a manic cheerleader, not the Elle I’d grown to know over the last couple of days. But she didn’t look at me again as she fled to the bathroom.
I sat up in the bed, confused. Had I done something wrong?