And once was all she could allow herself. Sweep it aside, don’t think about it again, and move on. Easier said than done. He’s still snoring softly in the bed in the next room. Your bed.
With luck, she could quietly dress and sneak out to get that laptop without confronting JT this morning. She still needed time to decide what to say.
****
JT woke to the sound of the telephone ringing. He reached out and snatched it from the cradle without opening his eyes. “ Hello?” he rumbled, still mostly asleep.
“JT? I think they connected me to the wrong room. I was trying to get Kori,” Mark said, sounding confused.
“Uhm, yeah, mate, she’s in the room next door.” JT’s eyes flew open. He realized he was the only one in the bed, and the bathroom door stood open. He was alone.
“I’ll try again. Sorry I woke you up, JT.”
“S’alright,” he responded, “Got a lot to do today. I should probably be getting up, anyway.” They exchanged goodbyes and rang off.
JT sat up in the bed and stared at the telephone. He expected it to ring again any moment, and wasn’t disappointed. This time, he let it go unanswered. Eventually it stopped, automatically transferring back to the front desk to leave a message.
She had obviously left. Where could she be, then? and why did she go? He rose from the bed, looking for his briefs and perhaps a note of some sort. He found the underwear, but no sign of a note until he walked into the bathroom and found a sheet of hotel stationary on the closed lid of the toilet. Smartass.
JT—
Went out to get a laptop computer. We need to talk when I get back.
Please.
Kori
He thought back on the night before, images of passion and heat flashing through his head. Regrets, my sweet? I hope not. I was so looking forward to more of you. Flying you up to the moon then back again.
She must think I’m such a selfish lover; seems I did most of the taking last night, and hardly any giving. He resolved to not let it be that way again as he pulled on his clothes. He scrawled a note of his own and left it on the pillow, then retreated to his room.
****
Korina perused the printers in the electronics megastore, hoping to find one sturdy enough to withstand being transported yet small enough to pack. She’d selected her laptop after much arguing with the salesperson. He was thoroughly enamored with the Apple brand, and tried to hard-sell her on one. He stubbornly refused to understand that what she needed must be linkable to her PC at home. He also stubbornly refused to understand that she was far more stubborn than he.
She asked him if his pay included commissions. He admitted that it did. She then patiently explained that if he didn’t just shut up except to answer the questions she asked, or better yet, leave her alone altogether, she would play eenie-meenie-miney-moe to choose the salesperson when it came time to write up her purchase. And he would be left out of the game entirely.
She got to play in peace.
She found a small inexpensive printer, added a ream of paper and a carry bag to hold it all, then returned to the now-meek salesperson with her selections. He directed her to the digital cameras and she picked out an astoundingly expensive Canon kit with extra lenses (she’d hit JT up for reimbursement per his promise, so she got top-of-the-line). While the tech department loaded courtesy updates to her operating software, she wandered the other aisles, looking at CDs and portable players. Most of her favorite CDs had stayed at home, as they were Mark’s favorites as well. She detested MP3s, swore they didn’t sound the same, and was a liner-notes junkie, so downloading replacements just wouldn’t do. Maybe it’s time to buy a second set of them, and something to play them on. She grabbed a cart and headed to the ‘Rock’ section, grinning for the first time since she got out of bed.
She returned to the hotel at just past ten, a full computer carry bag slung over one shoulder, the camera bag and a sack of CDs in the other, and struggled her way into her room, banging first one side of the doorframe with the laptop, then the other side with the camera. She kicked the door to close it behind her, but it caught on the laptop bag then bounced into her back, sending her to her knees. She dropped the bag of CDs; they spilled across the floor in a trail to the bed.
“Shit,” she mumbled, shrugging off the carry-bag strap. She crawled across the floor, retrieving the scattered music.
As she grabbed the last CD, she glanced up to the bed, taking in the rumpled sheets and blankets, remembering the night before. She picked up the pillow JT slept on and pulled it tightly to her chest, breathing in the smell of sweat, shampoo, smoke, and sex. JT. She didn’t notice the piece of paper that fluttered to the floor. Kori sighed heavily into the stuffing, knowing their first night together also had to be their last. She hoped she could make him understand. Her heart ached for his loneliness, but she could not be the one to solve it. His easy connection to her would make it that much more difficult and painful. She wasn’t looking forward to seeing him.
“Having a bit of a time of it this morning, are you, love?” a deep voice rumbled from the open doorway. Kori turned to face the voice she could recognize in her sleep, arms wrapped around his pillow, CDs still in her hand, took one look into those amused green eyes, and felt her heart drop into her shoes.
JT heard the loud arrival next door, and with an impish grin decided not to wait for her to read his note. It would be more fun to rib her for the banging. Just how big a laptop did you buy, love? Or: a laptop what if you can’t fit it through the door?
Their doors were side-by-side; he leaned a shoulder on his doorframe and pivoted to peer into her room. He took in the items scattered over the floor and opened his mouth, but the snarky comment died in his throat. Seeing her sweet ass encased in those tight jeans and the soft blonde waves cascading down her back twisted a knot of desire in his stomach, but it was what she was doing that gave him pause.
She clutched his pillow tightly, head bent down to bury her face in the stuffing, inhaling deeply. Each exhale came out on a sigh.
So, no matter the brusqueness of her note, how she disappeared this morning rather than wake him with a gentle caress, he knew there was still hope. Still the opportunity for him to weave his way back in with sweet seduction. He wasn’t sure whether to laugh at the mess, or sweep her into his arms and kiss her. Instead, he watched for a moment longer before commenting wryly, “Having a bit of a time of it this morning, are you, love?”
She twisted to face him, embarrassment flashing over her features, but not before he noted the glaze of desire it replaced. And the assortment of Slanker Knox CDs in her hand.
“I’m not God’s most graceful creature. Especially with less than my usual five hours of sleep,” she replied, shifting her gaze to the floor.
He took a step inside, closing the door gently behind him. “Maybe not so graceful, but at least you’ve got good taste in music,” he grinned, stepping closer, “and in singers.”
“Think an awful lot of yourself, don’t you?” She met his eyes in a challenge.
“About as much as you seem to think of that pillow, there,” he gestured vaguely as he ventured another step, wanting very much to be that pillow. His eyes twinkled with mischief.
His desire hit like a prizefighter’s fist. “Oh, I…uh…this was…um,” she stammered. Shit! He’s done it again, and this time I think it’s on purpose.
“I know what you were doing,” he teased, only a few steps away.
She hugged the pillow like a shield. Get out, get out, get out of my head, dammit!
–I know whose pillow that is. I left a note on mine, and now it’s on the floor. I wonder if you even read it yet…
“And what is it you think I’m doing, then?” she asked, sounding a little more breathless than she wanted to. Those electric eyes will be my downfall; look away, girl, look away. Her eyes, traitors that they were, refused to obey.
He stopped only inches away. His voice was a mesmerizing purr. “Missing me.”<
br />
Her mouth went dry as she looked up at him, prey gone tharn. She wasn’t sure if the hunger she felt now came from him, or from within herself. Not fair, not again….
JT looked down into her wide-open blue eyes and what he saw in them made him tighten and twitch… Now, now, none of that, JT. Not now, not yet. Today, she’s feeling guilty and vulnerable. How in the hell could I have known that, from a note and just a few words? Don’t tell me I’m getting into her head… He shrugged it off as intuition and the voice of experience.
He bent down and grasped her hand, pulling her to her feet, pillow and CDs still held tight. At the touch of his fingers, Kori felt the inevitable jolt.
–Hope she doesn’t notice before it deflates again…dammit, but I can’t help it….watching her breathing me in was so enticing….and the things I want to make her feel…the pleasure I want to share with her….Get ahold of yourself, JT. STOP IT! NOW!
Kori’s hand flew to the top of her head, dropping the CDs to the floor again. “Owww! Stop screaming!”
JT gasped as an icepick jammed into his skull. He let go of her hand and the pain evaporated.
Kori was shaking her head, eyes squinched up tight, breathing fast. She slowly sank to the edge of the bed, dropping her forehead to the pillow she still clutched to her chest. The searing pain stopped when JT released her hand, but the residual effects left her dizzy.
Big mistake. Get your face out of that pillow, away from the heady scent of the man. But is the alternative better? He’s right there, with those eyes, that voice…and that connection every time he touches you. “Shit,” she mumbled into the stuffing.
Without even thinking, JT climbed onto the mattress behind her and wrapped her in his arms. “I’m sorry, love, really. Are you all right?” he asked.
She leaned back into him for support, waiting for the lightheadedness to fade. God, how can his arms feel so right? And why is it that I get a connection with him so strong that he obliterates my conscious will, and it’s never been this way with my own husband?
JT waited another beat before speaking again.
“Kori?” Nothing but slower, even breathing.
He tightened his arms around her. “Are you here with me, love?”
Her only response was to tilt her head back to rest against his shoulder. He felt solid as the room continued to spin around her, albeit slower than before. She sighed loudly.
Slightly relieved, JT drank in her profile; eyelids now only gently closed, lips slightly parted, the pale pink of her cheek…he bit back a groan and tenderly kissed her hair.
He knew what needed to be said to set her mind at ease, and he should be the one to say it. That way she would be free to change the nature of their relationship without feeling manipulated. Even though he was manipulating her.
“Feel up to talking, Kori?” he asked softly.
Talking? No, that’s not what I want right now. Not even close. “Mmmm, still a little dizzy, really,” she mumbled.
She surprised him by turning to nestle her face into his neck. He felt her breath tickling over his throat. Sweet Christ…
He gave a low growl at the brush of her lips on his skin. He came undone as gently nipping teeth took over. Turning her in his arms, he crushed her to his mouth, shoving her pillow-shield to the floor. Closer, sweetling, I need to feel you…
His tongue sought hers in a heated frenzy. Oh, shit, I wasn’t going to do this, not now, not today….but how can I say no when she started it? When this is what I want?
Kori felt the connection with him bloom dimly. The brain-pain had left her drained and less receptive. Still, what she picked up amplified her own craving and she wove her fingers through his hair. JT groaned.
–Ah, bloody hell, woman….those soft lips….we shouldn’t….but God help me… I just want to get you naked and kiss you everywhere….
She shifted in his arms to snake her hand up under his shirt, fingertips leaving a blazing trail over his back. He ground himself against her hip to stifle the throbbing.
–Yes, baby, touch me….make me feel….not alone any more….ah, fuck but you’re only borrowed….we have to stop….but you taste so sweet….
JT broke away, his breath coming in ragged gulps. Kori’s eyes held surprise under their glaze of passion.
“No,” he said softly, pulling her head to his chest. “We have to stop, dammit to hell. You’re married, and this will only hurt both of us in the end.”
****
JT lazed in bed that afternoon, the events of the past few days turning in his mind. The last twenty-four hours puzzled him the most. Christ, I’ve known her scarcely more than a week. Well, in person, anyway. Secretly reading their official forum brought him quite an insight into many of the stalwart fans, Korina included. So, to him at least, it seemed he’d known her far longer.
Still, he was behaving so out of character. Married women, if he knew they were married, were absolutely off-limits. No exceptions. Angry boyfriends had created enough hassles, even when he haven’t slept with their girlfriends. Just the possibility that the woman in question would jump in the sack if the situation presented itself made their boyfriends jealous. Besides, JT liked her husband. He didn’t want to hurt him, either.
But there’s just something about her. Maybe it’s the stories, the way she writes me, partly how I am, and partly how I wish I were. Far more noble than the sot I really am. But the core of my nature… Romantic streak a mile wide. A man’s body wrapped around a little boy’s heart. Gets bruised a lot, that heart. But never gives up hope.
Or maybe it was something to do with her imagination, knowing she wasn’t afraid to express her ideas about sex and satisfaction, and just threw them out there for anyone who cared to look. And what those ideas were. That had to be the source of the lusty attraction, wanting to know the body that housed the unembarrassed, uninhibited mind. Wondering if the body was as uninhibited. But resisting that urge had never been a problem before; there were plenty of women he’d been propositioned by, or been attracted to, to whom he’d said no.
Was it the mental thing? How she could actually get inside his head, hear what he was thinking? Was that the source of the overwhelming attraction, or the byproduct? Ah, the old chicken-and-the-egg question…
He’d bounced the ball into her court this morning. Told her what he really thought, that they shouldn’t be kissing, touching, making love. Didn’t tell her what he truly felt, that morals and consequences be damned, he wanted her beyond reason. Let her figure that out for herself. He wouldn’t exactly hide it. He knew if he told her no, and not the other way round, the chances of their relationship heading in the direction he wanted it to go were much greater. If she had said that they should keep their hands off one another, she would be far more likely to stick to it. He was certain of that, though he didn’t know why.
And he was the master of subtle manipulation.
****
On the taxi ride back to the hotel, Kori had been filled with anticipation, both for playing with her new computer, and at talking to JT. Her day had seemed so promising. Now, after JT’s retreat, even the prospect of investigating her new toy held little interest.
She plugged in the laptop, searched for the power button, and turned it on. She ought to be writing a road report for the website; there hadn’t been an update on the tour in almost a week. One of her new duties was to provide ‘fill’ when there wasn’t much for the band to report personally. Another was to type up what they had to say when they did report. Stuart was more than happy to turn over the transcribing responsibility to her, as JT and, surprisingly, Rafe, were the only two who typed their own. Rafe was much more computer savvy than he let on, although he was known to lock up his system rather often, trying to tinker with the settings. Stuart was glad to turn Rafe’s program reloading over to her, as well.
Her thoughts wandered as she waited for the slow boot-up of the low-end laptop. Why did he pull away? She didn’t believe the reason he gave about her
being married. He’d been the one to initiate things, and he knew she was married then. So, was she to believe he suddenly developed an attack of conscience? Uh-uh, not for a minute.
And something else bugged her. I know that ‘luv’ is just an offhand endearment to English men, but sometime last night, he started saying it differently. Thinking it differently. I can’t quite lay a finger on how it’s different, just that it is.
She pushed the endless questions aside; time would tell what he was really thinking, and she had an awful lot of time on her hands during this tour. She hadn’t realized just how much of touring was hurry up and wait. Waiting for that breathless moment to take the stage and hold the audience in the palms of their hands.
She checked the screen; it was up and ready to go. She opened the word-processing program and began to type her memories of the charity exhibition game, the response of the crowds at the last two shows, a few scattered tidbits of hijinks by the band and crew. She remembered to type an introduction for herself, but was still unsure how to refer to herself. JT or Stuart would have to approve what she wrote before it could be posted, anyway; she would make a point to ask what her official title was. She also considered asking their opinions of starting a Facebook or Twitter page strictly for random updates from the road.
As her fingers danced lightly over the keys, she realized just how much she missed the physical act of typing, of putting her thoughts into tangible words. Longhand wasn’t the same, she couldn’t write as fast as she thought, and frequently a good line or thought was gone before she could commit it to paper. And she missed writing the creative stories. Maybe she should knock one off, just for kicks. Or continue with the one JT, and seemingly some others, liked so much. Hmm, he did say he wanted to read more, offer a critique, perhaps. That would be one sure way to check what he meant about them leaving off one another. See if it was mere words meant to placate her, or if he really meant it.
Odd, she thought, how I don’t feel guilty or wrong in wanting him right now. I should. Mark trusts me. But I can’t fight the feeling that this connection is here for a reason, just one I don’t understand right now. Like all karma, it will reveal itself when the time is right. Pushing doesn’t make it happen any faster.
Dream Me Off My Feet (Sex, Love, And Rock & Roll) Page 14