by Melody Grace
“That’s great,” I say, impressed. “It’s really competitive, right? Not many people get to make a living from music.”
He nods. “I’m lucky. It’s in my blood now, I couldn’t walk away if I tried. And I have zero other skills,” he adds with a wry grin.
I smile. “Sure you do. Fence-jumping, picking up strange girls in bars…” I suggest, teasing.
“Making out in deserted parks,” Austin finishes for me.
My heart skips. “I haven’t seen that one,” I murmur, turning to him. Our breath fogs the air in tiny puffs, and time seems to stop as Austin reaches to gently cup my cheek.
“I guess I’ll just have to show you,” he murmurs, leaning in.
This time, his kiss is soft. Deliberate. Barely a whisper against my lips.
I sigh against his mouth, feeling the sensation shiver through my body. White-hot sparks, warming every part of me. I take hold of the front of his jacket, tugging him closer, until our bodies are pressed together and our mouths continue their soft, exquisite dance.
Austin kisses me with a tenderness I wasn’t expecting. Easing my lips open, and gently licking into my mouth.
Heat pools, coiling low between my thighs. I shudder, still reeling from how instant this chemistry is, how overwhelming. I’ve never felt anything like it, an immediate attraction. I’ve always fallen slowly: getting to know someone, learning to trust and open up to them before things get physical. But Austin?
Austin makes me want him right now. Hard and hot, hands and mouths and the slick slide of our bodies…
But what if Matt was right? What if it was all your fault?
The thought jolts me out of my delicious haze. I pull away, flushing. “I, umm, we should get back. Before someone catches us here.”
Austin looks disappointed, but just as quickly, he smiles. “Good plan.” He puts one arm around my shoulder, pulling me tight against his body. “I don’t want to spend Christmas in jail for public indecency,” he adds, his voice teasing in my ear. “And darlin’, I plan on doing some pretty damn indecent things with you.”
My stomach twists—with desire, and something else. Nervous panic, that only grows as we wind our way through the gorgeous snowy park to the gates at the far end. With every step, I wish I hadn’t said anything, that we could stay in this magical place forever.
Safe. Public. Chaste.
Because once we’re back at the hotel, there will be nothing stopping Austin from inviting me up to his room. And no reason on Earth stop me saying yes.
Except…
My secret fears bubble to the surface. He’s been with a hundred women, they whisper, taunting. He could have anyone he wants.
What if you’re not good enough? What if you’re just a big disappointment?
Again.
“Sophie?” Austin’s voice breaks through my insecurity. He’s waiting by the fence, ready to help boost me over the top. “Are you OK?”
“Me? Sure. Great!” I exclaim, too loudly. This end of the park has trees growing along the edge of the fence, and it’s easier for me to reach up and grab hold of a branch to help keep balance. I step up onto his hands and scramble over, managing to slide gracefully down the other side.
Two cops are standing on the corner by their car. They turn to stare at me.
I stare back, frozen in place.
Oh God!
“Uh, Austin?” I call in a weak voice, but it’s too late. He comes vaulting over the top, landing beside me with a thud.
Silence.
“Evening, officers,” Austin says. I swear, my heart stops beating as the cops slowly saunter closer. They look between us, wearing stern expressions.
I panic. I can’t go to jail! Never mind Austin’s jokes about public indecency, trespassing is just as bad.
Before I can even think twice, I give the men a big smile.
“Thank heavens!” I exclaim brightly, in my best English accent. “We seem to be lost!”
The cops pause.
“Would you mind terribly directing us to the Crosby Street Hotel?” I ask, wincing at the voice that comes out of my mouth. I sound like the Dowager Countess from Downton Abbey, but the cops seem to buy it. Their frowns turn into helpful expressions, and they start talking amongst themselves.
“That’s the Village, right?”
“Yeah, 14th, I think.”
“You need to head downtown,” the first cops tells us helpfully. “Just keep the Empire State building behind you, see?” he points out the spire, looming up ahead.
“Thank you so much!” I exclaim, grabbing Austin’s hand. I yank him away. “Merry Christmas!”
Adrenaline pumps through me as we walk away. “What the hell was that accent?” Austin whispers. “The Queen?!”
“Shh! They’re still watching!”
“Tea for two, Jeeves, and make it snappy!” he mimics.
I try to keep it together until we reach the end of the block, but as soon as we turn the corner, we collapse back against the wall, shaking with laughter. “Oh my god!” I giggle. “I can’t believe they bought it!”
“I thought we were screwed for sure,” Austin gulps for air. “Excuse me!” he teases. “Where did you learn to talk like that?”
“My roommate has a thing for British costume dramas,” I explain, wiping tears of mirth and relief from my eyes. “I sat through all six hours of Pride and Prejudice.”
“Time well spent.” Austin shakes his head, and there’s admiration in his eyes when he looks at me. “You’ve got balls, sweetheart, I’ll give you that.”
I grin. “Hey, it was your idea!”
He’s still laughing as he takes my hand and starts walking, and, too soon, we’re back at the hotel. I step inside the lobby, glad to be out of the cold. Snowy weather may be magical, but my face is frozen, and I can see in the mirrored wall that the tips of my ears are bright red.
“Hold on a sec,” Austin says. He quickly heads over to the front desk and exchanges a few words with the woman on duty.
My nerves return. This is it. The moment I have to decide: if I’m going to let this unexpected, magical night end right now—or risk ruining the memory forever.
I watch Austin smiling and flirting with the woman, and reality crashes through me like lead. I’m out of my league here. He’s handsome and charming and experienced, and I’m not. Not even close.
Austin finishes up with whatever he’s doing and returns to me.
“What was that about?” I ask, stalling.
“Nothing,” he says casually. “Just some paperwork. I’m all yours.”
The elevator arrives, and we step in. The doors close. “Aw, look at you,” Austin smiles. “Your ears are all red.”
He lifts his hands, cupping them on either side of my face. I shiver at his touch. Slowly, he draws me to him, until I can feel the heat of his body, the hard planes pressed against my thighs.
I melt.
“So…” he begins, dipping his head to gently kiss my cold cheek. His lips are warm, searing my chilled skin. “How about we go get you warmed up?”
My mind spins from his nearness. I struggle to clear my head. Think!
He gently bites down on my earlobe, and all logic flies out the window. I sink against him with a sigh, feeling shivers of desire snake down my body.
He chuckles. “I’ll take that as a ‘yes.’”
But what about Matt? part of me demands. You only just broke up with him. This is textbook avoidance…transferring your feelings…denial—
“Oh,” I gasp, as Austin’s hands slide under my coat, gripping tightly around my waist. He pushes me firmly back until I’m pressed against the elevator wall. Then his mouth finds mine, and there’s no room for thinking, not with the heat rising and my body aching and his tongue probing deep and delicious between my lips.
Screw denial.
I want him. Now.
Austin
I practically carry Sophie out the elevator and down the hall to my room. I swipe
the keycard without looking, still caught up in her sinfully sweet kisses and the lush feel of her body in my hands.
I shove the door open, drag her inside, and kick it shut behind us.
“Whoa.” Sophie stops dead, looking around. “This is…ridiculous!”
I kiss her neck, my hormones still raging. “It’s nice enough,” I murmur, stripping her coat off and tugging her back against me. That’s better. The fewer layers of bulky winter clothing separating me from that gorgeous body, the better.
“Nice enough?” Sophie echoes, breaking away. She takes a few more steps inside the room and laughs. “This place is bigger than my whole apartment back home!”
I catch my breath, watching her explore. Thanks to Patrice downstairs, I’m set up in the penthouse suite, with a big living room and separate bedroom. Sophie goes to the windows, taking in the neon sprawl of the city lights. “It’s so beautiful,” she murmurs.
The view’s pretty good from where I’m standing too.
“So,” she turns back to me, looking like a deer in the headlights. She’s nervous, I realize, and suddenly I can tell she’s not used to moving so fast.
Even though I want to throw her down on that king-sized bed, I force myself to relax. “You want another drink?” I ask, strolling to the minibar. “Look, they even have your favorite,” I joke, holding up a tiny bottle of Malibu.
She smiles. “I think I’ll stick to something simpler this time. Maybe some white wine?”
I pass her a demi-bottle and mix myself a Jack and coke. She collapses on the huge corner couch with a whoosh. “You’re lucky I’m still on California time,” she tells me, gulping her wine. “Otherwise I’d be fast asleep by now.”
I check my watch. Midnight. “Me too,” I admit.
“What? I thought you rock-and-roll types are always partying ’til dawn.” Sophie kicks off her heels. I settle beside her, lifting her stockinged feet and placing them in my lap. They’re cool to the touch, even through the silk, so I rub one gently.
Sophie moans, and sinks her head back in the pillows. “Yes,” she breathes. “That feels so good.”
I didn’t think it was possible to get so turned on giving a foot-rub. I was wrong.
I put my drink down on the sofa table and turn my full attention to her feet, increasing the pressure as I explore the delicate arch and bones of her ankles, loving the little sighs of pleasure that slip from her lips…
Sophie opens her eyes, looking at me. “I can’t figure you out,” she says, her forehead creasing in a frown.
“Me? I’m an open book,” I laugh, relaxing.
She shakes her head. “You’re smart and charming, and drop-dead gorgeous.” She ticks them off on her fingers. “You should be an asshole. Why aren’t you an asshole?”
I reach over and pluck the wine from her hand. “You’re a lightweight,” I smile.
“No, I’m a psych major,” she corrects me. “And men who get validated by the world the way you do, usually turn into entitled, careless, selfish people, because they never have to work for people’s approval.”
“I work for it,” I pause. “Well…I used to, before—” I stop, remembering almost too late that she doesn’t know about my rock-star life. That’s the reason people fawn all over me, the fame and the status and the money.
Except she doesn’t know anything, and she’s still here, smiling at me like I’m the only man in the world.
Just for me.
I take a breath, feeling drunk even though I’ve only had a couple of gulps.
“Why are we talking about me, anyway?” I change the subject. “I’m way more interested in you.”
I slide my hand softly up her calf. Sophie slowly meets my eyes, flushing a sexy pink in her cheeks.
I gently stroke her knee. She swallows, shifting in her seat.
“What about me?”
“Everything,” I say, and for once in my life, it’s not a line. I want to know what makes this woman tick, this gorgeous, unpredictable mess of contradictions.
“There’s not much to tell,” she replies.
I chuckle. “I doubt that very much, darlin’.”
My hand slides higher, teasing little circles on the inside of her thigh. Sophie’s eyes turn glazed. She bites her lip, and dammit, I can’t hold on any longer. I need to taste that sweet mouth again.
I tug gently on her ankles, so that her body slides down the couch, almost horizontal. I lean over, lowing myself against her until her slim body is covered with mine.
Her eyes flare, surprised and nervous, and then I find her lips, and everything makes sense in the world.
Hell yeah.
I kiss her thoroughly, taking my time. Slow and deep, feeing her body melt against me. Her hands reach up to run through my hair, her legs part, cradling me between her thighs. The kiss deepens, blazing hotter, stronger, until we’re both gasping and my blood pumps a furious rhythm in my ears.
Take her.
I pull away, and I’m rewarded with a whimper of protest from Sophie. She’s looking rumpled, her eyes glazed, her lips so juicy and ripe. “Where are you going?” she breathes, reaching to take a handful of my shirt. “That was just getting good.”
I smile. “Just?” I tease her. Then I slip my arms under her body, swing my legs off the couch, and get to my feet, lifting her in my arms. “Trust me, sweetheart, I’m only getting started.”
I carry her to the bedroom in a few short strides, and place her down on the bed. She gazes up at me, and the expression in her eyes makes my blood sing.
Breathless. Wanton.
Wild.
With a groan, I dive in and capture her mouth again, quickly ripping off my shirt. I slide the sleeves of her dress down over her shoulders and find myself staring at the most perfect pair of breasts God and nature ever created: round and smooth, her tight nipples straining against a frothy little pink lace bra that makes my heart stop and my cock ache for her touch.
“You’re so beautiful,” I breathe, running my fingertips softly over her silken skin. It’s not enough, so I dip my head and follow my hand’s path with kisses, softly licking and sucking through the lace.
Sophie catches her breath. “I bet you say that to all the girls,” she replies, but her voice is strangled and pitched with desire.
I pause, guilt gnawing at the edge of my desire. “Yes,” I admit, looking her straight in the eye. “But I mean it with you.”
She looks back at me, and a weird expression comes over her face. She looks nervous for a moment, and I can see her brain ticking over, so I soothe her with another trail of butterfly kisses, whispering down the pale column of her throat until she’s molten and gasping in my arms again.
I ease her further back on the bed, kissing my way down her body, peeling her dress lower as I go.
She tenses. “Where are you going?” she asks, sounding worried.
“To check out the good stuff,” I grin against her stomach, swirling my tongue in the dip of her belly button. Sophie shivers against me.
“But…” she pauses.
I lift my head, waiting. “If I’m moving too fast for you, sugar, just say. I could happily spend a couple hours just worshiping those delicious breasts of yours,” I add, reaching up to stroke and pluck softly at her nipple. “But I’m guessing you’ll enjoy what else I have planned.”
She inhales in a whoosh. “What kind of plans?”
I can see her mind is still tangled up in knots. I rise up on my elbow, and gently kiss her lips. “Filthy, wicked, sexy things,” I whisper in her ear, trailing one hand lower, down under her dress. Sophie gazes back at me, the nerves in her eyes now melting into desire.
“Be more specific,” she tells me, her lips tugging into a grin.
“Hmmm…” I slide my hand lower, tracing over the waistband of her panties. Sophie gasps. “Well, first I want to touch you…”
I trace down between her thighs. Her hips rise up to meet my hand, and I clench my jaw to feel the damp softness w
aiting beneath the thin layer of silk.
Goddamn it, she’s already wet. Slick and ready for me, begging for more.
“I hate to get academic,” Sophie whispers, her breathing getting heavier. “But you’re technically not touching me yet.”
“Good point.”
In one swift move, I shove her panties aside, and stroke up against her, skin to skin.
She moans, her head falling back, her eyes squeezing shut.
Dear God, I could watch this woman come undone forever.
“Better?” I whisper, still kissing and nuzzling at her neck. I stroke again, slowly, circling her slick nub.
She whimpers in response, then bucks her hips against me. I smile.
That’s a yes.
I stroke lower, easing one finger inside her wetness. Fuck, I nearly lose my mind right here, in the slick, deep heart of her, so tight, clenching around me.
With a groan, I move back down her body, pushing her dress up and stripping those silk panties off her gorgeous legs. I toss them to the floor. “You won’t be needing those,” I grin.
She lifts her head, smiling through her desire. “What if the fire alarm goes off?”
“Then you better hope nobody gives you a fireman’s lift.”
Sophie’s still laughing when I hook her knees over my shoulders. I dip my head and lick up between her thighs. Her laughter stops in a gasp.
She makes a tiny squeak.
I chuckle against her and lick on, nudging against her slick, wet core and moving up to circle and suck at her clit. Damn, she’s sweet.
I clutch her hips tighter. I’m getting so turned on, I’m already hard, pressing painfully against the seam of my jeans, but Sophie lies still, suddenly stiff as a board. All her earlier moaning and bucking is gone. She doesn’t move or make a sound.
I pause, lifting my head. “This doing anything for you?” I ask, watching for some reaction. I stroke my fingers against her again, swirling around her clit in the same way that reduced her to whimpers.
Sophie just clutches the covers and squeezes her eyes shut.
“Uh huh,” she replies, sounding strained.