“But you had an argument with Greg.” She was still confused by this whole business and she wouldn’t hide it.
“About a lot of other things and this.” he replied.
“Oh.”
“Listen, I’m not the terror you’ve made me out to be. I’ll admit that I’m not a huge fan of the media, but can you blame me?” He rested his fingers on Nicole’s calf and softly stroked it through the blanket. “I’ll be right back,” he said and went out of her room again.
Please get something to wear while you are at it, she thought. Some tiny part of her wanted him to come back. To sit on the bed. Maybe keep her warm. Stop! This is a job! She couldn’t risk her professionalism on some groupie fling thing.
He was back in the room again, this time with a small tub of something. She sat up as he approached her bed and placed the mug by the bed. She could feel her nipples getting hard and pulled the blanket up to cover herself. He was still here in his towel. Why wouldn’t he just get dressed?
He sat beside her again and reached out for her palm. He took some of the content of the tub and started to rub it on her fingers. He was gentle on her fingers as he massaged the ointment on them. The cold completely forgotten, Nicole started to feel something different entirely as he worked her fingers. It didn’t help matters that he was in a towel only. “The menthol in this is good for your lungs.”
“Thank you,” she replied. She was distracted by the stirrings in her loins. She was dangerously close to doing something dangerously stupid. She snatched her hands away from him a lot quicker than she intended to.
“Is something the matter?” he said, arching an eyebrow.
“Nothing. I’m fine,” she said.
He still had the look on his face.
“Fine. I’m exhausted and cold. I was just naked in front of you, and now you’re pretty much giving me the full butcher’s window treatment. I just need to get to bed.”
“Shit, I’m sorry,” he said, leaving the bed and walking to her door. “It didn’t register in my head that I was still in a towel. I just wanted to be sure you were fine first. Call me if you need anything. I’m just down the hall.”
“Okay.” She said and watched as he left.
She grabbed the scratchpad she put on the bedside table. The pen wrote in a flurry. She was probably seeing things, but what she saw was what she saw. Right before Michael left, she looked him right in the eyes. One was blue like before.
The other eye was gold.Nicole settled into the far back of the concert hall with her pen and notepad in hand. She loved the vantage that this position provided. Some reporters would have preferred front row seats to the show but she knew the back was the place to be. Here, she could not only see the artists, she could see the fans and feel what they felt. The fans were important: they were as much a part of the story as the artists. It was for them that she wrote. It was for them that she gave reviews.
The tour was starting with a special show for the locals before kicking off for real. The first time they’d played this hall two years ago, it had been part of a local battle of the bands. The rest was history. They’d play this show to open their tour, rest for a day or two at home, then move on from Georgia. Then she’d be on a plane back home.
The room was already bursting with excited fans. The hall was dark, with house lights dimly lit for minimum safety purposes. It had that strange smell that old dive bars had, probably from the constantly leaking beer taps. The boys were backstage, doing their last minute preparations in private. Her pleads and demands to observe them fell on deaf ears, so she was out here, with the rabble.
They were all waiting for The Solid Oaks to come on stage. Some of the younger fans had boards and posters, the rest of them just stuck with chanting their name. Two girls beside her were going on and on about how much they’d like to be near them, touch them even. Then one had teased the other that she had a crush on Michael. Nicole’s head turned in their direction automatically. Her look must have been withering because the young girls skittered away without another word.
Nicole sighed, wondering what was getting into her. A part of her was glad that the job was almost over. She needed it to be over. She needed to be back in the regular rhythm of her life. But another part of her, well, had less professional thoughts. There was so much to Michael she needed answers to. Like peeling back layer after layer just to find more layers beneath. Her curious side wouldn’t let it go, and it certainly didn’t hurt that he was a tall handsome country music star. I wonder if those hands could strum other things besides a guitar…
She shook her head mentally. She had to shake that thought out of her head if she wanted to get any work done. She was going to let irrelevant things cloud her piece if she continued like this. The hall exploded in cheers as the guys took the stage and got ready.
“Thank ya’ll for comin’ out tonight,” Michael said, speaking into the mic. “We’re the Solid Oaks, just some local boys from the hills. Now we’re gonna show ya how the hills get down!”
****************
After the show Nicole barely got a chance to congratulate the guys on such a rocking performance. Exhausted and subdued, they thanked her and each headed to their vans to get some sleep. One thing she picked up on by being in their presence was that they took their success very seriously. They knew some of their fans might be choosing to buy their album or lunch that day, and out of respect for that sacrifice they put on great shows. So the wild parties would have to wait until the tour was over. You weren’t at your best if you were crawling out of bed three minutes before showtime.
They were all pulled over at a rest stop along some highway so the drivers could catch an hour of shut eye. A few station wagons were parked there too, probably filled with midwest families on their way down to Florida for some time in the sun.
Abel's snoring from the driver’s seat was maddening, so loud that she thought it must have been on purpose. But no, he was just a snorer of the worst kind.
She rubbed her face and looked at her watch. Two AM. Night’s purgatory. She wished they would have just driven straight through to get back home, but the boys were set in their ways. They loved their food and they loved their sleep. Trying to interfere with either was a bad idea. In an hour they would get moving again, but it wasn’t an hour she wasn’t to spend next to the loudest snorer in the world.
She opened the van door and stepped out into the brisk Georgia air. She walked past the vans to a cleared grass area set in front of some heavy woods. The sky above was clear, the crescent moon shining fully. Far from the light pollution of the city, she could actually make out the stars. She reached a finger up to one and traced a line to the next, just like her father had taught her to do when she was a little girl.
She was struck by that bittersweet memory of her father trying to set up a telescope in the backyard. She’d begged him for one for months to get one, and one night he relented and came back from the department store with a huge box. He’d been so eager to set it up for her that he assembled it backwards and stripped a bunch of the screws, which ruined the stabilizing frame.
“I’m sorry, baby. Daddy isn’t so good at some stuff,” he had said. He turned his head and wiped at his face. “We’ll, uhh, we’ll save up for another one and try again next year.”
“It’s ok, daddy. We can still see the stars just fine without one,” Nicole had said.
“Here, let me show you a trick,” he said, his voice regaining some confidence. “If you pretend your finger is a pencil, you can draw the lines between the stars…”
“Hey there,” a voice said from behind her.
Nicole was knocked out of her reminiscence. She turned to find Michael walking up to her. “Hey. Come here often?”
He chuckled. “Yeah. Love the rest stops. You find the really classy ladies here. Some even have molars and incisors. What are you doing here?”
“Can’t you hear?” Nicole asked jokingly.
Michael cocked his head, then
nodded slowly. “Abel is the worst snorer in the group. You drew the short straw on that one,” He said and stood next to her. “Are you a stargazer?”
“No. I mean, not really. I don’t know,” she said, butterflies in her stomach. This whole interaction had a dreamlike quality to it, thanks to the hour. “How do you know if you are or not?”
“Good question,” he said, his arm brushing against hers. “Maybe it has to do with what you expect to see when you look up in the sky?”
“Ok,” she said, turning her gaze back up to the sky. “I see the North star!” she pointed proudly.
“You’re missing the point,” he said. “What are the stars to you? Are they the past? The present? The future?”
The answer left her lips without a second thought, “The past.”
“Good,” Michael said. “It’s good to be grounded. To know where you came from.”
“And what about you?” Nicole said. “What do you see?”
“I see the future,” he said, shifting his gaze back to her. “It’s laid out in front of me, but it’s still unknown. Uncertain.”
“Terrifying,” Nicole said. She felt her pulse racing. She wanted him to put his arm around her.
He did that little head tilt again, and his nostrils flared. “Did you have a good time at the show?” Michael said.
“Yes!” she said, enthusiastically.
“But?” he said.
“But what? It was fantastic,” Nicole said. “The crowd was so into it.”
“I didn’t ask about the crowd. I asked about you,” he said, rocking back on his heels.
“Look, I’m not a musician. I don’t know what it’s like to be up in front of thousands of people and just, you know, bleh…” Nicole said, making an unflattering gesture with her arms.
“We didn’t puke on the audience, Nicole. We should’ve gotten you better seats,” he said.
She punched him in the arm. “You know what I mean. You get up there and give it your all. You lay it all out there for thousands of people to judge,” she said. “Except…” She instantly regretted the word coming out.
“Except what?” he said.
“Nothing. Never mind,” she said, wishing she were somewhere else.
“Trust is a two way street, Nicole. If you want me to open up and trust you, you have to be ready to do the same,” he said, his voice taking on a hard edge. He turned to walk away.
“Wait,” she said. “I…I felt tonight that you were holding something back.”
He turned back to face her. “How the hell would you know if I’m holding something back or not?”
“I just…” she said. “You were great up there, but it wasn’t passionate. You were holding back.”
“And so what if I was? I’m not a robot. I can’t just ignore distractions and turn off…” Michael bit back his last words. “Honestly I don’t know what happened and I’m kinda freaking out.”
Nicole reached out and wrapped her arms around him, putting her head against his chest. “It was a great performance. Even if it wasn’t your best, it was still great. The girls all got their money’s worth, trust me.”
His arms wrapped around her, pinning her against him in a wonderful warm embrace. “Sometimes I think that if people get too close a look at me, they won’t like what they see.”
“If they’ve seen what I’ve seen, they’ll like you just fine, Michael,” she said.
Nicole felt his hand lift her chin and suddenly the hot press of his lips were crushing down onto her. A bolt of lightning ran from the soles of her feet straight up through her spine. His smell was earthy and clean. She reached up to cup his face in her hands, his stubble scratchy and incredibly sexy. She kissed him back, her lips spreading for his insistent tongue. She pressed against him, feeling his urgent need for her stretching down one pant leg. A rumbling growl escaped from his chest, reverberating against her.
“Shit!” he said, breaking off their kiss and turning away from her. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that!”
Nicole stood there awkwardly. “It’s ok. It felt right.”
“But it wasn’t. This…this wouldn’t go anywhere. I’m just drunk and tired. Long day, you know?”
“Umm, yeah. Sure.” Nicole straightened her hair, giving her something to do with her shaking hands. “Long day.” She walked back towards the vans, with Michael following shortly.
Seven.
They got back to the mansion around four in the morning. Nicole’s brain was in that horrible state that wanted to sleep but was too wired with adrenaline. The show and, more importantly, the kiss with Michael had her all mixed up. I have a career I need to respect. She stomped up to her room after wishing everyone good night. Laying down in bed, she closed her eyes, but she just stared at the back of her eyelids.
Being warm in the bed felt good, but not as good as being warm in Michael's arms. The warmth of his body, the strength of his embrace. She imagined what those hands could do, how they could grab at her, grope her, pull her hair and hold her down. No point trying to stop this train. She sent a hand south to her mound, finding it slick with her excitement. She arched her back, her other hand grabbing her breast roughly.
“Mmmmphmmm!” she moaned, biting her lip.
She thought about how his hard member pressed against her stomach when he held her. The length and breadth of it, snaked down his pant leg and engorging second by second. To feel the head slip past her entrance, to stretch her out and fill her up. She grunted as she bucked against her hand, needing him. Needing his big stupid body and the weight of him pressing down onto her.
But no matter what she did to herself, it wasn’t the same and she knew it. She released her breast and clit, the sexual tension still strong but sinking under her other needs. Her stomach rumbled and she threw the covers off. She pulled on a pair of panties and a t-shirt, knowing the house would be fast asleep. She tiptoed out of her room and made her way down the hall towards the kitchen.
Passing by Michael's room, she froze. His door was open a tiny crack, and the dimming moonlight cast a blue glow to his room. Michael was laying naked on his bed, one arm over his face. But he wasn’t asleep. His other hand was working his hard manhood. Proudly defiant in the night air, it stood ten inches at full attention, veiny and thick. The head glistened with his pre-cum, and Nicole could see his heavy ballsack tense and release with each stroke.
Nicole had to remind herself to breath as she watched this spectacle. The way his taut stomach sank as he exhaled, the way his legs flexed as if he was ramming himself home with each downstroke.
“You’re welcome to come in,” he said from the bed, almost a whisper.
Before Nicole knew what she was doing, she was already stepping into his room. Despite her brain protesting the impropriety of this, her body’s primal needs were not to be denied. This virile specimen in front of her would bring her much needed relief. And, well, you couldn’t blame a girl for being curious.
“What do we have here?” she said, quietly closing the door behind her. “In here pleasuring yourself like some dirty teenager?”
“Let’s just say I was inspired,” he said, his hand still slowly stroking himself. His arm still covered his face. He inhaled sharply through his nose. “I couldn’t ignore you.”
“What do you mean?” she said, sauntering over to stand next to his bed.
Saddled Bearback (BBW Shifter Cowboy Romance) (Bear Ranchers Book 2) Page 48