Hard Sell: A Bad-Boy, Rock Star Romance

by Savannah Skye

  Did she?

  She gave her head a little shake. She wasn’t going there. Wasn’t delving into the miasma of doubts and anxieties writhing in the background, waiting for their opening to ruin her perfect night. No way. Right now, the only thing she regretted was that she wasn’t facing him. If she had one night, she planned on making the most of it. Reality would come crashing in soon enough.

  “So you did say we could do it again, right?”

  Gigi stepped out from the bathroom wrapped in a towel a short while later. Her cheeks were still flushed and she gave him a tentative smile. “I thought I heard a knock. What’d you get?”

  He tore his eyes from her creamy shoulders and kept it light, giving her the space she seemed to need. “I wasn’t sure what to feed the chef so I got fruit, a cheese plate and an order of French fries.”

  “Perfect.”

  He’d gotten dressed to answer the door and could tell she felt self-conscious being the only one half-naked. She’d been so amazing, so giving, the last thing he wanted was for her to feel a second of discomfort.

  He considered yanking off his clothes but instead went against every instinct urging him to keep her naked and grabbed the robe from the closet. He tossed it to her and turned so she could put it on.

  “Picnic on the giant bed. Last one in has to eat the kiwi.”

  He jogged over and set the tray down in the center of the bed before climbing in. She was a second behind him, giggling as she hopped up across from him. “I like kiwi.”

  “How could you? First of all, just seeing them in their natural form is disgusting. They’re like furry little monkey nuts or something. I refuse to eat hairy fruit. Second, it’s got those little ball-bearing looking seeds in it. It’s a weird food, admit it.”

  “I think it’s you that’s weird,” she said as she picked up a piece and popped it into her mouth. She gave an exaggerated eye roll and moaned.

  “Mmm, so good.”

  “Okay, you’re going to give me a complex. That’s the same thing you did when I—”

  “Don’t say it!” she yelped, her cheeks going from pink to red.

  Damn, she was fun to tease.

  He took a piece of cheese and held it out to her. The smile slid from her face as she leaned in and plucked it from his fingers with her teeth. Her eyes grew dark as he caressed her full bottom lip with his thumb.

  “Now you.”

  She picked up a chunk of melon and offered it to him. He tipped his head and opened his mouth to accept it. At the last second he closed his lips around her fingers and nipped her before taking the fruit.

  She gasped and her eyes grew darker still. The pulse in her neck began to flutter and his cock responded with a vengeance. The robe had shifted and the curve of one breast lay bare to his gaze. He squeezed his eyes closed and chewed his melon. She probably needed a break and he wasn’t going to press her. If she felt ready and wanted to do it again, she’d let him know.

  “I want to do it again.” Her dark eyes locked on him as she spoke.

  He swallowed hard and forced himself to choke out the words that didn’t want to come. “Are you sure you’re not too sore?”

  “I’m a little tender, but it’s not going to stop me. Besides, I know you’ll make me forget all about that. Can we?”

  He looked at her and the honest, pure desire shining back at him. He grabbed the tray and set it on the table next to the bed. “We can eat the fries cold.”

  She nodded as he pressed her back against the blankets. He feathered soft kisses on her face, then captured her mouth with his own. He tugged the sash of her black robe and it fell open around her, framing her lush curves and white skin. For a long moment, he just stared. She squirmed under his intense gaze and moved to cover herself. He grabbed both of her hands and pressed them against the bed.

  “Don’t. Don’t ever hide yourself from me, Gigi. Your body is so sweet and sexy, I want to commit every curve, every line to memory. Let me.”

  She nodded and the tension in her muscles eased.

  He bent forward and closed his mouth over the hard nipple that had been beckoning him. She wriggled and groaned as she threaded her fingers into his hair. He worked his tongue against the sensitive bud and her low gasp was like a symphony to his ears. Her legs shifted restlessly against his and he trailed a hand down her stomach to close over her pussy. She spread her legs wide, opening herself to his touch. He tested her with a slide of fingers, a rub of his palm. Her slick juices covered his hand and a charge ran through him. He’d done that to her. She was wet and aching, only for him.

  He released her nipple and moved lower, pressing kisses down her rib cage, over her stomach while he worked her cunt with his fingers. Sliding up and down over her heated slit until her hips pulsed in a staccato rhythm. Finally he was eye level with her pussy and he had to close his eyes to gain control.

  After a few steadying breaths, he opened them again to the most beautiful sight he’d ever seen. Gigi’s candy-pink sex glistened just inches from his mouth. Her distended clit pouted forward, begging for his tongue. The evidence of her need ran down the cleft of her ass and the drive to taste her overwhelmed all of his senses.

  He wanted nothing more than to bury his face between her thighs and stay there forever, devouring her. Instead he flicked his tongue against her clit, just brushing the tender flesh. She groaned and pressed into him but he held back, teasing her, drawing it out.

  “You’re so pretty down here. So soft and pink,” he whispered, letting his warm breath bathe her sensitive skin.

  “Please, can you put your mouth on me again?” Her pleading tone held a note of wonder that went straight to his cock.

  Enough teasing then. He bent low and covered her with his mouth, lapping at her in long, slow licks, increasing the pressure with every swipe. She writhed beneath him as if she couldn’t get close enough. She speared her hands into his hair and pulled him tighter to her, pressing his mouth more firmly against her pussy. He quickened the pace, licking and sucking harder and faster.

  Her body stiffened and he waited for her to shatter. Instead, she jerked away from him and sat up. She reached between them and grabbed his cock through his jeans and squeezed.

  “I want you inside me.”

  He stood and thrust his jeans off, sliding a hand in the pocket before he tossed them aside. She turned sideways, cupping his balls and raking her nails over his stomach as he fumbled with the foil packet then sheathed his achy cock.

  He climbed into the bed and pressed her back, positioning himself between her legs. He arched forward, nudging her entrance with the head of his cock. One inch. Two. He gritted his teeth, trying to take it easy. Go slow. She was new to this and he didn’t want to hurt her.

  “Now.”

  Her husky voice made his balls ache and she clamped her legs around his waist, snapping her hips to his, taking him all in. His cock jerked and grew heavier as he hurtled toward release. He drove forward with a punishing thrust. Her low gasp gave him pause, until she wriggled beneath him, urging him to move, begging him not to stop. He pulled back and plunged forward again, filling her, stretching her.

  She tossed her head on the pillow, her pants becoming groans. Her hips moved faster and faster and she worked her tight channel over his dick like a fist. He tried to hold off.

  This might be the last time he ever felt her wrapped around him. The last time he got to be with her.

  But tighter and tighter her pussy gripped him, bewitching him, her slick inner walls squeezing until she cried out and shattered, convulsing around him. A second later, unable to stop it, he tumbled after her. He flexed deep, groaning her name as his bittersweet orgasm racked him. His body exploded into her, hot cum bursting from his cock in a rush that had him shouting her name.

  Gigi woke to the distant sound of water splatting against tile. The shower.

  Jesus, Beau.

  Her eyes snapped open and she stared into the semi-darkness at the swirls in the ceiling
, trying not to let the fear riding her morph into full-blown panic. Now that the sensual haze had worn off, now that she’d escaped the reach of his force field of hotness, it all seemed so clear. She was royally screwed.

  What had she done? She squeezed her eyes shut again as her brain provided the answer to that question in exquisite detail. Her pulse fluttered at the images flashing through her mind.

  It had been amazing.

  Earth-shattering.

  Terrifying. And Beau was right, she never should have done it. She was changed. After just one night, the thought of going home and immersing herself completely in work left her ice cold and almost sick with dread.

  Alone again. No strong hands to grip her waist. No body, so much warmer than her own, to burrow into while she slept. No hot mouth or clever tongue to work her into a frenzy. No baritone chuckles as she primly wrapped a sheet around herself to get a drink of water.

  No Beau.

  One night with him, half a night, really, and her life was flipped upside down. She’d fooled herself into believing she could just sleep with him and enjoy the experience, chalk it up to good times and walk away unscathed. Instead, she was utterly and completely scathed, without a clue how to handle it. So she did the only thing she could think of.

  She jumped up out of the bed, tossed the dress over her head and ran for it.

  Chapter 8

  “So now what?” Quinn asked, brows raised so high they were buried under her hair.

  Beau’s three band-mates stared at him expectantly.

  When he’d gotten in late that morning, they were congregated around the table like a bunch of old crones waiting for the gossip.

  Gigi was at the store buying food supplies and they’d all but mobbed him the second he stepped in the door. He’d put them off for as long as he could, but since they all seemed to know that he and Gigi had spent the night together, he finally bit the bullet and filled them in on the basics.

  “So now nothing. It was…fun. She’s not a virgin anymore, and I guess we’re supposed to pretend like it didn’t happen.” Beau tried to keep his tone light, hoping it didn’t reflect the turmoil churning inside him.

  He’d had a few hours to let in marinate, but he’d been thrown for a loop when he’d gotten out of the shower. Hell, who was he kidding? He’d been thrown for a loop the moment he met Gigi and every second thereafter. What he hadn’t expected was for her to walk out on him without even saying goodbye.

  Unless you counted the note. Which he didn’t. He barely held back a snarl as he recalled the words on the hotel notepad next to the bed.

  Hey, Beau,

  Thanks so much for everything. It was a lot of fun! See you back at the bus in the a.m.

  Gigi

  Fun?

  Was she serious? Intense, raw, gripping, hot and amazing, maybe. Fun barely scratched the surface.

  In fact, he’d been so crazy wrapped up and mind-fucked by the whole thing, he’d gotten up to take a shower to buy himself some time to clear his head. In those fifteen minutes, all he could think was that he wanted it to happen again and again.

  By the time he’d toweled off, he’d resigned himself to idea that he had the major hots for Gigi. He wasn’t sure what to do about it since she was dead set against a relationship, but he couldn’t just let her walk away.

  Tricky Gigi. She’d done him one better. She’d run.

  The old Beau, the player, Mr. Good Time, gave him a stiff shake.

  He should be thrilled. He’d gotten laid and didn’t even have to deal with the awkward aftermath. It was a win all the way around. For some reason, that wasn’t flying this time. It was like sushi. No matter how much he tried to convince himself to love it, it just didn’t sit well.

  So what were his options now? Go to her, tail between his legs, and beg her to give him a shot. Even if she was as affected by their night together as he was—and, based on her shitty little note, she wasn’t—that couldn’t happen. She’d been crystal clear from the start. She’d worked too hard to get derailed by a man now. And she’d sacrificed so much to get this far, did he even have a right to ask her to try?

  The only other alternative was to let her stay off the hook she’d so carefully managed to avoid with her rabbit routine this morning.

  Despite his stupid infatuation, the right thing was as obvious as a neon sign. He’d make it real easy on her and let her walk away. No fuss no muss.

  He nodded, again resolved, despite the hollow pit in his gut.

  Later that afternoon, though, he found the doubts rearing up again as he faced off with the firing squad, Quinn at the helm.

  For the third time, he explained, impatience coloring his tone, “Guys, seriously, that’s all she wrote. It was a one-time thing.”

  “Well, that’s stupid,” Quinn announced, and slapped both hands on the table.

  “Quinn…” Rex said, and shook his head but she wouldn’t be stopped.

  “No, seriously. I mean, obviously she’d just scared or whatever. I can tell you like her. You do, right?”

  Beau pushed the stool away from the table and stood. “This isn’t some group therapy session. And it isn’t a band decision. I said I’m dropping it, and I’m dropping it.”

  Quinn gave Rex the stink-eye and Rex sighed, then turned to face Beau.

  “Listen, man. We just want you to be happy. If there’s a chance that you do like her, and you don’t tell her how you feel, you might be missing out on something, you know?”

  “Got it. Thanks for the unsolicited advice. Now if this episode of Dr. Phil is over, can we move along? I still have two songs to write and sitting here getting grilled by y’all isn’t exactly getting the job done.”

  He started to leave the room then stopped as a thought hit him. “In fact, just so things don’t get sticky, you should probably have her stay on your bus. I’ve got shit to do and she’s a distraction I don’t need right now.”

  That last part was nothing but the truth. The only way he was going to keep from trying to finagle a repeat performance was if she wasn’t around. Out of sight…

  “Beau, come on. I can’t do that. Where would she sleep? And what would I tell her?” Quinn asked, her tone pleading.

  “Tell her whatever you want. Tell her she’s cramping our style. And she can sleep on the couch. It’s only ten days.”

  “She isn’t cramping my style,” Tai said with a shrug.

  “You don’t have any style. Even if you did, and she wasn’t cramping it, I don’t want her underfoot and that’s that.”

  “Fine. But for the record? Me and Rex think you’re being an asshole. Right, babe?” Quinn crossed her arms over her chest and stared at her husband.

  Rex held up his hands and took a step back. “I’m not in this.”

  “Rightly so. It’s none of any of your business. Take care of it, Quinn, for real,” Beau said, then strode into his bedroom and shut the door.

  All he had to do was avoid Gigi for the next week. Then she’d be gone and everything would go back to normal.

  He refused to examine why that thought didn’t improve his mood in the least.

  “Need some help?”

  Gigi jerked back in surprise at the low voice directly behind her. She looked up into the stunning, solemn face.

  “Damn, Tai, you’re stealthy! Scared the crap out of me.”

  “Sorry. I just wanted to see if you wanted me to carry some stuff over to the other bus for you.”

  “That’s really sweet. And since I’m no martyr, absolutely. Want to grab that box behind you?”

  “Sure.”

  He didn’t make a move though, and Gigi tried not to grimace. Here came the pity party.

  “Gigi—”

  “Tai—”

  He held up a hand. “Listen, I don’t usually say much, but just give me a second here, and you can be on your way.”

  He waited until she gave a nod. His gaze was inscrutable, and after a long moment he looked away.

  “R
egret is a terrible, all-encompassing thing. It fucks with you constantly, makes you feel like if you’d only done that one thing differently, everything just might be perfect right now. Even when your shit is going good, it keeps it from ever being great because you wonder if it could have been better if only…”

  He’d aimed his speech at the closet door, and her heart gave a squeeze for him. She reached out a hand and patted his shoulder.

  “I appreciate your advice. I really do. But this doesn’t apply to me and Beau. Besides, I can’t undo it and I don’t regret what happened.”

  “I don’t just mean regretting things you’ve done, or risks you’ve taken. I mean regretting the things you haven’t done.”

  “What are you suggesting, Tai? I should maybe beg Beau to sleep with me again? Sorry, I did all the begging I’m going to do the first time around.”

  “Why does it have to be begging? Can’t you just talk to him and find out how he feels?”

  “I think that’s pretty clear already. He had me kicked off the Man Bus.”

  “After you left him that stupid note,” Tai argued.

  “He doesn’t want a girlfriend,” she tried again.

  “And you didn’t want a boyfriend. Things change. All I’m telling you is that you could be missing out on your chance at happiness. You’ll never know if you don’t try.”

  A tiny kernel of hope lodged itself into her chest. She thought back to her night with Beau and knew one thing for sure. She was willing to face just about anything for a real chance to do that again. Tai wouldn’t be encouraging her if he didn’t have some sense that Beau felt the same way.

  Maybe he was right. Her pulse pounded as she nodded slowly.

  “Okay. I’ll talk to him. But if this blows up in my face, you better be available for a week of chick flicks and ice cream. I refuse to sulk alone.”

  “I’m in.”

  She stepped toward him and he pulled her in for a hug.

  “You know, Tai, someday you’re going to have to tell me the story of the girl who broke your heart.”