Incognito

by Siobhan Davis

  I swat his hands away. “I’ve got this assignment to finish.”

  “What’s more important,” he teases, coming to kneel in front of me on the couch, removing the book from my hands and placing it on the coffee table. “Me or your homework?”

  I grin wickedly at him as I lean forward, tracing my fingers over the noticeable bulge in his jeans. “Well, when you put it like that.”

  I don’t need much convincing.

  He sits down on the couch, and I pounce. Straddling his lap, I grind my pelvis against him, bending down and capturing his lips in mine. His hands go straight to my hair, and he fists my long hair around one hand, tugging my head back and stretching my neck. His lips blaze a fiery trail as he kisses a line from my chin, down my neck and over my collarbone. I shiver all over as his hands start exploring. Pulling the hem of my off-the-shoulder sweater up, he hastily removes it along with my tank top, leaving me in my lacy bra. Burying his face between my breasts, he thrusts up as we rock against one another, emitting primitive moans that cause my arousal to spike to new levels. In one swift move, he has my bra unclipped, pulling the straps down my arms and flinging it away. Then his hot mouth is on my expectant flesh, moving from one taut nipple to the other, sucking, biting and licking; working me into a frenzy in his lap.

  “Baby, you are so fucking hot, and I can’t get enough of you,” he mumbles in between worshiping my breasts.

  “The feeling is definitely mutual,” I rasp, curving my back to give him more access.

  I roll against him, groaning when I feel how hard he is. Jumping up, I shuck out of my jeans and panties until I’m standing naked in front of him.

  “I’ll never get sick of that sight,” he purrs, running his hand up the inside of my thighs. “You’re my every wet dream come to life, Dakota.”

  Laughing, I remove his hand and push him flat on his back as I get to work on his jeans. In record time, I have him stripped bare, and I’m salivating at the magnificent male specimen in front of me.

  “Your body is a work of art,” I admit, leaning over him as I begin to lick every delectable inch of his skin, loving how he jerks and shivers under my touch. My fingers follow the V-indents on his hips down through the trail of dark blonde hair and on to his impressive hard-on. Wrapping my hands around the base, I stroke his velvety soft length, watching his eyes roll back in his head. My tongue darts out, lapping up the precum on his tip, and he moans in pleasure. I take him into my mouth, sucking and nibbling while my hand pumps the base of his cock in measured strokes. I pick up my pace, taking more of him into my mouth and grazing my teeth against his throbbing length.

  Grabbing my shoulders, he lifts me up onto his lap in one skillful move. His cock pulses underneath me, and an intense shiver rocks my body. “Ride me, baby. I want to come inside you.” I grind against his erection, loving the friction of his naked flesh against mine while he reaches out, fumbling with his jeans. He hands me a condom and I roll it down over him before slowly lowering my body onto his. We both groan when I’m fully seated, staring at one another with matching heated looks. Holding onto the nape of my neck, he pulls me down for a searing hot kiss. “I’m crazy about you, my beautiful midnight dancer. Totally head over heels for you.”

  “I’m crazy about you too,” I whisper as I start to move up and down his rock-hard length. Holding my hips, he helps set the pace, and soon the only sound in the room is flesh slapping against flesh and joint mutual groaning as we both race toward orgasm. He sits up abruptly, pulling me even closer as he thrusts up into me with more urgency. His mouth devours my lips and my breasts and pressure is building inside me. “Oh, oh, Levi. Don’t stop.”

  He thrusts harder and faster, and my hands grip his shoulders as I ride him in sync, muscles clenching tight around his cock. We both cry out together, falling over that heavenly ledge at the same time, holding and clinging to one another, and it’s one of the hottest experiences of my life.

  After another round in the shower, we are back out on the couch dressed in fresh clothes. My feet are in Levi’s lap and he’s massaging them. “That feels so good. Your hands are like magic.” And they are, even if they are callused from playing the guitar. The rough pads of his thumbs knead my feet with the right amount of pressure, and it feels like I’ve died and gone to heaven.

  He chuckles. “I can’t stop touching you. I think it’s a disease.”

  “Well, if it is, I have it too.” I grin at him.

  “God, we’re so nauseating, but I fucking love it.” He presses kisses to my feet, and I squirm, all ticklish and giggling like a three-year-old.

  “I wish we could stay here forever and never have to leave.” I sigh dreamily.

  “I wish that too, babe, but reality is going to come crashing down upon us sooner rather than later.”

  His happy expression transforms to one of abject sorrow, and I instantly want to remove it. “Hey.” I crawl over to his side, snuggling into his chest, and his arms automatically go around me. “Just because things are changing doesn’t mean anything has to change with us.”

  An awkward silence fills the gap between us, but I don’t know how to make it better. My situation has been like the unspoken elephant in the room since Dad dropped the bomb on Saturday. Levi clears his throat, holding me a little tighter. “I know you’ve had a lot of knockbacks lately, and I don’t want to add to the pressure, but have you thought about what you want to do? Are you going to stay around here or …”

  I look up at him, hating how troubled he looks. “I’m thinking of switching my major to dance and sticking around here. With you.” If anything, he looks even more tortured at that admission, and I don’t understand.

  “Don’t do that for me. You need to make the right choices for you.”

  I sit up straighter, turning around so I’m facing him. “What exactly are you saying?”

  He cups my cheek. “I want you in my life, Dakota. Don’t doubt that. But I’m not sure how long I’m going to be here for, so I don’t want you basing your decisions on me. Decide what you want to do, and we’ll find a way to make it work.”

  “What do you mean? You’re not planning to stay here and complete your degree?” My voice betrays my incredulity.

  He exhales noisily. “I don’t think so. I’ll have to get back to L.A. at some point. I can’t let my career fall by the wayside.”

  “I wasn’t aware of that.” I mean, who signs up to a degree willingly knowing he doesn’t have time to complete it? It makes little sense, and not for the first time, I wonder what exactly is going on with him. My gut tells me there’s a lot more to this man than he’s let me see, and that’s makes me uneasy. However, we’re both only getting to know one another, and it’s not realistic to expect him to divulge all his secrets in one go. I’ve got to trust he’ll let me in when the time is right. Right now, I like what we have, what we’re becoming, and I’m willing to give him the benefit of the doubt.

  I chew on my bottom lip. “I guess I could stay here for as long as you are and then decide what I want to do. It’s not like it’d be that easy to transfer mid-semester anyway, and I doubt Juilliard would let me back at such short notice.” If they’ll let me back at all.

  He leans forward and kisses me sweetly. “The selfish part of me loves that plan because maybe you might be able to come with me, but I don’t want you to hold back on my account. Do what’s right for you, and I promise we’ll find a way to stay together. I meant what I said, Kota baby. I don’t want to lose you.”

  “You won’t, because I don’t want to lose you either.”

  Levi comes with me again on Saturday to visit Mom, and I’m overjoyed to find she’s been moved to her own private suite. Apparently, there’s some special grant she was able to avail of which enabled her to upgrade to her own room, and I could kiss the nurse for thinking to apply for it.

  What’s even better is the signs of impr
ovement I see. She still doesn’t talk, but she looks both of us in the eye when we speak to her, and she’s smiling. When we make our goodbyes, she squeezes both our hands with tears in her eyes. I’m practically bouncing as we walk outside. I thread my arm through Levi’s. “She’s starting to come around. I saw it in her eyes. Did you notice?”

  “I did, babe. It’s great news.” He presses a kiss to my temple, and I can tell from the expression on his face that he’s genuinely pleased.

  “I think this calls for a celebration,” he says when we are in the car en route back home. “I want to take you out to dinner. I found this cute little restaurant online that isn’t too far away. What do you say, baby?” He takes my hand, lifting it quickly to his lips. “Will you have dinner with me?”

  “I’d love to.” I lean over the console and kiss his cheek. “Thank you for coming with me today.”

  “No problem. I told you I want to be in your life. To help if I can. Nothing is too much trouble for you.”

  God, this man. How does he always know the right things to say?

  Back at the penthouse, I’m walking on a cloud as I head to the bathroom to take a shower while Levi calls the restaurant to make a reservation.

  I stay in the shower a little longer than usual, hoping he’ll join me, but after ten minutes, it’s obvious he’s not coming so I get out. Wrapping a fluffy towel around my body, I quickly towel dry my hair before running my fingers through it. I step out into the corridor, padding toward the kitchen to find out what time the reservation is booked for when I hear raised voices.

  “Baby, please stop fighting this. You know how good we are together. Let me remind you of that.”

  Bile swims up my throat as they come into view, and I want to puke. A gorgeous redhead is draped all over Levi, pushing her tits into his chest and snaking her arms around his neck.

  Stomping into the room, I glare at both of them. “What the hell is going on?”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  ShawnLevi

  Shock splays across Calista’s face before she composes herself. Fucking hell! I scrunch fistfuls of my hair in frustration. This is a fucking nightmare. Removing Calista’s wandering hands, I inch toward Dakota, but she holds up a hand to stop me.

  “Get rid of the groupie, babe,” Calista sneers, raking her gaze over Dakota in a none too charitable fashion.

  “Who the fuck is she?” Dakota demands to know, hurt written all over her face as she looks to me for answers.

  “No one important,” I reply, stepping in front of her and forcing her gaze to mine.

  “What the fuck is going on here!” Calista cries, flinging the tux at me. “Get her out of here!”

  Anger simmers in my veins as I turn around. “Shut. Up. Calista. And if anyone is leaving, it’s you, not my girlfriend.”

  She stumbles back as if slapped. “Girlfriend?” Her mouth drops open and hurt splays across her face. “You don’t do girlfriends.”

  Dakota is looking between me and Calista trying to size up the situation. I gently cup her face, grateful when she doesn’t push me away. “Dakota, I can explain everything. Just let me walk Calista out first.” I plead with my eyes, almost collapsing with relief when she nods her head tersely.

  “I can’t believe this,” Calista murmurs, looking like someone just stole her favorite Louboutins. “How could you do this to me?”

  “Calista, for the umpteenth time, I am not interested in you like that. Our relationship is strictly professional, and you’re lucky I don’t fire your ass for this stunt. I told you over the phone that I would not be going to your sister’s wedding, so you can take the tux and your interfering ass and get the hell out of here before I change my mind.”

  Tears gather in her eyes, and I feel like a prick even though I’ve done nothing wrong. “Let me call you a taxi.” I pull out my cell.

  “No thanks!” she hisses. “I’m well capable of making my own travel arrangements. This was a mistake,” she adds, grabbing her case, purse, and coat and storming toward the door.

  I snatch the tux and follow her. “Don’t forget this.” I thrust it at her as she opens the door. “This is your final warning,” I say under my breath. “Don’t make me regret this. One more stunt and you’re out.”

  “Fine!” she snaps. “Have fun with your tramp.”

  I slam the door shut, leaning my forehead against the wall as I try to calm the fuck down.

  “I need to know what’s going on, Levi,” Dakota quietly says. “Start talking.”

  I turn around to face her. “It’s not what it looked like, I promise.” She pins me with suspicious eyes, and I hate that Calista has made her doubt me. “Let’s sit.” Placing my hand on her lower back, I guide her to the couch.

  Ange’s words have weighed heavy on my mind for the last week, and I know, deep down, that she’s right. That I need to confess all to Dakota, and I’m trying to pluck up the courage to go there.

  I wish I could come clean with her now, but I’m too terrified of losing her. Besides, when I tell her the truth, I want to have it properly prepared. To have anticipated all her questions and objections and have an answer for everything.

  I can’t tell her now. Not when she’s currently suspicious of me, so I have no choice but to continue to give her half-truths.

  She’s eyeballing me intently, waiting in expectation. I clear my throat. “Calista is my assistant. She’s worked for me for years, and she has an issue with boundaries, but, I swear, nothing is going on with her. Absolutely nothing. It’s all in her head.”

  “Your assistant?” Her brows knit together. “I didn’t realize session musicians needed assistants.”

  “She books gigs and keeps track of my schedule and does admin and shit,” I supply, digging a deeper hole for myself.

  She sits with her hands in her lap, mulling over my words. “Well, if that’s the truth, if she is your assistant, why did she have her hands on you?”

  “She was all over me before I had a chance to push her away. If you’d stepped into the kitchen a few seconds later, she wouldn’t have been touching me. I promise you that.”

  She is quietly contemplative. “Why is she delusional, Levi? Why does she think something is going on? Did something happen between you two?”

  Fuck. I’m so tempted to lie, but after what she suffered at Cole’s hand, I owe her this truth. I cringe as the words leave my mouth. “I made a mistake one night, and I’ve regretted it ever since. She was always hitting on me, but I usually just laughed her off. This time, I was too shitfaced to reject her advances, and I ended up sleeping with her. I don’t even remember it. That’s how fucking trashed I was. I made it clear to her straightaway that it was a mistake and it wouldn’t happen again. And it hasn’t. It was only that one time. Ever since then, she’s acted differently with me, and I’ve been close to firing her so many times.”

  “Why didn’t you?”

  “Because she’s actually really good at her job, and if it got out I fired her for this shit, she wouldn’t work in the industry again. I don’t want that on my conscience.” That’s only partly true. I’ve begged Luke to can her irritating ass on more than a couple of occasions, but he’s always talked me out of it.

  I’m seriously regretting that now, and I meant what I said: One more strike and she’s out.

  She moves my face until I’m looking her straight in the eye. “Look me in the eye and tell me that’s the truth. That she doesn’t mean anything to you.”

  I palm her face and stare solemnly into her eyes. “I swear to you that’s the truth and she means nothing to me. I care about you. You’re the only one I want.” I want to tell her I love her, but not like this. She’ll only think I’m insincere and be even more suspicious of me.

  “Okay.” She rests her hands on my shoulders. “I believe you, but you know I can’t stand cheaters, so don’t make
me regret trusting you.”

  We cancel our dinner plans after that, neither of us in the mood, and it’s something else to be pissed at Calista for.

  We go to the roof as usual, and I can tell Dakota is more introspective tonight, her movements showcasing her pain even when she doesn’t articulate it.

  I’m sitting on the ground with my back against the wall trying to get the music right to this latest song. Dakota doesn’t know it yet, but this one’s inspired by her sister Layla. Closing my eyes, I start strumming my guitar, humming rather than singing as I work the melody to suit the mood.

  I sense her before she speaks, as I find myself doing a lot. It’s as if we’re attuned to one another, and I can feel her in a room before I’m aware she’s physically there.

  “That’s beautifully sad,” she says, dropping down beside me.

  “It’s something new I’m working on.”

  “You’re so talented, Levi. Too talented to be playing backup to some artist. You should be front and center stage.”

  This isn’t the first time she’s expressed that sentiment, and I don’t know how I speak over the guilt pummeling my insides. “Thank you.”

  She places her hand on my knee, leaning forward to look at me. “I mean it. Your words touch my soul.” She rubs a hand over her chest, and her eyes glisten with emotion. “Have you ever played your own stuff for anyone?”

  “Yeah,” I admit, averting my eyes and starting to strum the notes to her song in the hope it’ll distract her. I try to avoid outright lying to her, and this is edging into dangerous territory. “Recognize this one?” I tease, pinning her with the full extent of my smile.

  Her eyes glaze over in happiness. “As if I’m likely to forget. It’s not every day someone writes a song for me.”