Jax handed her a book with the lyrics, which she placed on the stand in front of her. He gave Marek a wary glance before stepping back to his position.
Marek walked to the Black Falcon leaning against the sidewall. He slipped the guitar strap over his shoulder and strummed the opening notes.
And received a strange look from Carson.
Stunned. That's what he would describe it as.
She swung her gaze back to the lyrics just in time, as the band launched into the song. Carson was good, never missing a note. She'd struck Marek as professional the first time he'd heard her sing, but now he was more certain than ever.
She must have familiarized herself with the music before Greg had picked her up, because nobody was that good without practicing. Her voice weaved its threads around him, and he found himself responding as she ended the song on a husky whisper.
"Wow." Felix whistled. "That was amazing, Nyx."
"Nyx?" asked Marek, frowning.
"Yeah, Rex christened her Nyx. For her black-as-night hair."
Marek felt a ripple of irritation run through him, but as much as he was annoyed that Rex had given her a name, he had to admit it suited her to a T.
He contained his annoyance as they broke for lunch, which he spent watching her from across the table. He knew he was being overly reticent, but he didn't want to talk to her in front of the guys.
Especially since he'd have some explaining to do.
15. CARSON
DAMN AND BLOODY HELL.
CURSING was not Carson's strong suit, but today she wished she could let out a string of expletives.
Singing with Marek standing two feet behind her had been about the hardest thing she'd ever done in her life.
Singing while infuriated with him was even harder.
Not that she had a right to be angry with him.
Or did she?
He'd misled her, making her assume he was the band manager. But maybe he was the manager and just hadn't fully informed her of his other role in the band.
She contained her anger through the second session, and when they broke in the late afternoon, she was more relieved than she could express. She'd fairly raced for her room, begging fatigue before hurrying away.
The blonde came by to drop off a plate, which Carson thought was very considerate of her. But when Carson thanked her graciously, she received nothing more than a cool glare in return.
She tugged off her tights and shirt, got comfortable, and dozed for a while, dropping to sleep as she stared out at the sunset.
When she woke, the room was cold and her skin was icy. She'd fallen asleep on top of the covers.
She snuggled under the thick blankets and waited for sleep to come, but half an hour later, she was staring out at the twinkling stars, wide awake. At times like these she practiced, making use of her wakefulness, because tossing and turning made for bad sleep and a grumpy Carson.
She scrambled off the bed and threw her shirt on, slipping out of the room in her bare feet. She made her way down the one flight, heading to the studio. The place was dark, with just a set of small down-lights on at the back of the soundproof room.
She tiptoed through the sound room to the door to the inner recording room, and was searching for the light switch, when she caught sight of someone sitting in a small pool of yellow light, shadowed by moonlight.
Marek was near the window, perched on the window seat that ran the length of the wall, headphones covering his ears, his forehead scrunched in concentration.
The door shut behind her, the sharp click alerting him to her presence.
Crap.
He shifted off the seat, tugging the headphones from his ears.
Carson swallowed. They were completely alone. Which was a very bad thing.
"Sorry, I didn't know anyone was in here." She backed away, awareness filling her veins. They were together here, in this room that looked out on to the wild night. Her heart thudded against her ribs and her breath seemed to have escaped her lungs.
She took a soft breath and reached for the handle behind her. "I'll just leave you alone."
He was across the room in the blink of an eye, moving so swiftly and silently she didn't even see him until his hand closed over hers.
"Don't go."
Carson looked up at him, a part of her brain registering how close he stood in front of her.
She cleared her throat. "I have to."
"Why."
"Because this isn't a good idea."
"What isn't?"
She cleared her throat again, then bit her lip. There was no escape unless he let her open the door.
She was scrabbling around for something to say when he said, "I owe you an apology."
"What for?"
"For not telling you I was part of the band."
She shrugged. "It's not really my business, is it?"
"It is when it might have meant you'd turn down my offer."
"You thought I would turn it down because you were in the band?" she repeated, frowning.
"Would you have?"
She opened her mouth to say no, then realized she might have declined had she known. Only because he was altogether too much for her to deal with. Knowing she'd be seeing him day in and day out for weeks might have been enough of her to decline the offer.
He smiled and took a step away. "Exactly." He sounded so self-deprecating that Carson reached out and grabbed on to his forearm. She hadn't meant to touch him, but the contact was enough to send heat flaring through her limbs.
The muscles beneath her fingers flexed and he said, "You should let go of me now."
The instruction was odd, as if it was a reluctant warning. She looked up at him, hesitant to break the contact, enjoying the feel of him too much.
When she saw the fire spark in his eyes it was already too late.
He shifted closer, his hooded eyes watching her, and she took a step back, but not because she wanted to get away. More because she felt she couldn't breathe with him so close.
The wall was at her back. She had nowhere to go, and when he bent his head to hers, she let out a soft sigh.
His lips closed over hers, possessing her, his tongue delving deep, dancing against hers, hard and fast. Fire surged through her body as she responded, her movements urgent and needing more.
He pressed against her body, grinding his hips into hers, and when she moaned, he lifted her off the ground, pulling her legs around his hips. Only then did she realize she'd forgotten to put her tights back on. She'd ventured from the room, barefoot, with nothing on other than her damned thong.
Yet, all that mattered now was that she was in Marek's arms, as if this moment had been one that she'd been heading toward all this while. He pushed against her, his hard length pressing against her center. He ground against her and she let out a moan as he left her mouth, his lips traveling down her throat, dipping toward the exposed flesh of her chest. Her shirt fell open, buttons coming loose, bra undone with little effort and even less objection.
He ran his hands along the length of her thighs, stroking her heated flesh, cupping her ass, and squeezing her cheeks hard. She sighed as the action made her pulsate with need. His lips closed over her hardened nipple, his tongue running slowly across the distended tip before sucking hard.
She let out a soft cry as he gave her other breast the same attention.
What was he doing to her? And why was she letting him do it? She stiffened, her brain telling her that this was her boss. Hadn't she decided not to have anything to do with him?
When his hand slipped between her legs, she lost all ability for coherent thought as she bucked against his exploring fingers. He slid the fabric of her thong aside and slipped a finger between the lips of her sex.
She was burning up, slick and about to explode.
The cry she let out was louder than she'd expected.
"Marek."
16. MAREK
THE WAY SHE SAID HIS name made him crazy with
need. Not that he wasn't already crazy for her. She was all hot and wet, ready to accept him, but he held himself in check.
The sane part of him said this was a stupid thing to do. She was a new member of the band, and sleeping with band members more often than not led to trouble.
The sane part of him said he should stop now, leave before things got out of hand.
The sound of her moan told him things had already gotten out of hand. He moved his finger along her slit, with long hard strokes that made her whimper. When she moaned aloud, the sound more urgent, he settled his thumb on her clit, moving in in slow circles as he listened to her soft sighs, as she writhed and bucked against his hand.
He slipped a finger inside her, reveling in the sound of her cries as she bucked against him, arching her back, urging him to touch her just that much more.
Then her hand went to his waist, and he couldn't think straight. His belt disappeared, his zipper scraped open, and his jeans were sliding down his hips before common sense made its appearance.
"Marek... I..." she whispered, her voice throaty and desperate.
That sound was his undoing.
"What do you need, baby?" he asked, thrusting his fingers deeper.
She cried out, louder and more desperate this time. "Please..." She shifted, and when her fingers closed over him in exactly the same way he'd envisioned when he'd watched her grip that microphone, he almost lost control. She tightened her grip, urging him closer.
"Are you sure?" he asked softly, his eyes meeting her heavy-lidded ones. She breathed softly, lifting her hips forward as he removed his fingers.
"Yes. Marek." She moaned, urging him closer, placing him at her slick entrance.
She shuddered, her breath coming in soft sobs, and he couldn't wait any longer. No woman had needed him this much before. No woman had ever cried out for him this desperately.
Every other woman had wanted from him what he'd wanted from her. Mutual satisfaction. Yet with Carson, all he wanted was to make her happy, to satisfy her.
He was afraid to think about what that meant.
For now, primal need took over and he plunged into her, filling her with every inch of him. The cry she let out enveloped him, the sound thick with need and desire.
She moved against him, urging him to pull away, and when he filled her again, she gasped, her thighs tightening around his hips. He moved his thumb back to her nub. She was close. He could feel her muscles tightening around him, and he wanted her to come with him.
He stroked her as they shifted into a frenzied rhythm. As he slammed into her, their cries equaled their need. He felt her tense, sensing his own imminent release. He waited until he was ready.
And then they both exploded, the pulsing orgasm joining them together as they both shuddered through it, foreheads against each other, breath mingling.
17. CARSON
WHAT THE HELL JUST HAPPENED?
Carson's breathing slowed, although her bare breasts were still pressed hard against Marek's rippling chest. Her legs were wrapped tight around his waist, her arms gripping his muscular arms fiercely.
He shifted to look at her, his eyes assessing her. Just when she thought she saw rejection in his eyes, he lowered his lips and kissed her. Passion flared again and almost brought her to tears as she kissed him back as fiercely as he kissed her.
She'd assumed it was over, that now was the time that regret would open a rift between them. And then she felt him harden inside her, felt her body respond with heated need.
He moved, and this time their joining was fast and hard and urgent. No gentle exploration, just passionate frenzy.
And when they slid to the floor, he kissed her neck, running his fingers down her sweat-slick spine. "You're so beautiful."
"So are you." She whispered the words against his neck, leaving a trail of tender bites in the wake of her breath. She could barely believe it. It felt like the wispy part of her dreams had become real.
But not real enough to endure in the light of day.
"Did I hurt you?" he asked, kissing her collarbone.
She shook her head and sighed. "It was perfect."
Then she opened her eyes and stiffened.
"What's wrong?" he asked, lifting his head. His eyes were clouded with concern, a worried line marring the length of his forehead.
"Protection," she said ruefully.
He shrugged, the line smoothing instantly. "It's fine. It's a special trait of my genes. I won't likely have kids."
She cupped his cheek, feeling a deep aching sadness for Marek. Somehow, the thought of being pregnant with his child hadn't been all that displeasing. In fact, she found herself slightly disappointed at his revelation.
"What happened?" she asked, wondering if he'd been sterilized at some point. She knew there were some diseases that could do that to a man.
He laughed, although something in his voice hurt her heart. "Let's just say it's a curse I have to live with."
18. MAREK
THE TALK ABOUT HIS INABILITY to father children marked the end of their interlude, though it wasn't in any way negative. Marek wished he could tell her the truth, tell her about the curse on the Sarkozy line, about a woman's words spoken two hundred years ago in anger and betrayal.
But it was too soon. Or maybe it was too late.
What would she say if she found out the truth about him? Would she accept him or would she run in horror?
He didn't want to contemplate that moment, preferring to hold it off for as long as he was able.
Helping her to her feet, he got back into his clothes while she buttoned up and repositioned hers. Her cheeks were flushed, and he thought she looked thoroughly adorable standing there in her rumpled shirt and her bare feet, her lips red from his kisses.
He threaded his fingers through hers, drawing her from the studio and out into the silent hall. They walked back to her room in silence, careful as the night was beginning to brighten, the sun hinting at its coming.
"You'd better get some sleep," he whispered against her throat, as he nuzzled her one last time at the door.
She looked disappointed, as if she'd expected him to join her, but he wasn't ready for the band to know about him and Carson. Things were a little too dangerous for the Sarkozy men to be in relationships, especially with human women.
He claimed her lips one last time, a heated passionate duel, then left her with a smile on her face.
As he headed back to his room, he wondered what the hell he was doing. Was he really being selfish wanting a little bit of happiness in the midst of all the hell?
19. CARSON
THE NEXT DAY, WHEN CARSON entered the kitchen, heads lifted and she received welcoming smiles. On the other end of the room, Marek merely gave her a cool nod.
And her stomach twisted.
Had last night been a mistake? Was he regretting it?
The way he was ignoring her said as much, and she swallowed hard. Suddenly croissants, bagels, cream cheese, and jam all seemed like reasons to throw up.
She nursed a mug of coffee, smiling and talking with the band about innocuous, unimportant things while her mind nursed her pride.
How stupid could I have been?
After a while, she couldn't handle it anymore and excused herself, heading to the ranch slider that led to a large balcony outside. The deck was enormous, furnished with weatherproof rattan outdoor furniture. It extended in an L to a narrow length that was private and couldn't be seen from the kitchen or living room.
She moved blindly, her eyes hot with unshed tears. She couldn't decide if she was ashamed or angry. Either way, the tears threatened to overflow, and she had to swallow hard to suppress it. The last thing she wanted was to head back inside with eyes red from weeping.
The band of men were fun, but they weren't stupid. They'd figure out something was up, so she had to get it together.
She sucked in a deep breath, taking the clear mountain air into her lungs. It didn't take away the lump in h
er throat and she didn't feel calmer.
Until someone moved behind her and Marek said, "Are you okay?"
She lifted her chin, refusing to be weak in the face of his rejection. If a one night stand was all he'd wanted, then she was fine with that. She was a big girl.
She nodded. "Of course. Why wouldn't I be?" Her voice was clear, giving nothing away of the turmoil in her heart.
He shifted closer, his body pressing against hers from behind. "You looked upset."
She cleared her throat. She was flush against the glass balustrade with nowhere to go to escape the searing heat of his body. "Why in the world would I be upset?"
He lowered his head an inch from her neck. "Those guys are far too nosy for their own good." He placed his lips on her skin, a heated kiss that sent shivers down her spine. "I want us to have some privacy, and the band won't give us that. I want you all to myself for as long as possible."
Carson sighed and leaned back against his muscled chest, allowing his seeking lips greater access. Then her breath caught in her throat as he placed a hand low on her stomach, squeezing the soft flesh near her hipbone, his fingers so close to her heated sex.
Her skin tingled, her muscles tightening with need. She lifted her gaze to his, loving the desire in his eyes. When he lowered his lips to hers the kiss was explosive and incredible, and almost uncontrollable.
His hand traveled further, pressing at the juncture of her thighs. She shifted her hips, anticipation and need firing her blood.
"Hey, guys," Felix yelled from around the corner. "We're about to start."
Carson would have jumped had Marek not put his hand to her shoulder. He shifted a step away. "Until later." His voice was deep, a strange rumble beneath it that made Carson's blood burn.
He headed back and she followed in his wake. When they reentered the room nobody gave them any funny looks.
Except for the blonde.
A Siren for the Bear (Sarkozy Brothers Book 1) Page 5