He went up on one elbow, staring down at her face. “Say that again.”
She swallowed. “I didn’t want you to stop. When you told me to go down on my knees, something happened. It turned me on. Then all the talk about—groupies and other things made me hot.”
“About handing you around to the others?”
She lowered her gaze. “Yes.”
“Is that what you want?” He sounded hard, unfeeling, but if he threw her out of bed now for being a slut, so be it.
Her throat tightened but she took her courage in both hands and told him the truth. “No. Not for real. It was you talking about it.”
She let her breath go in a rush and dared to look back up at his face. Just in time to see warmth return to his eyes. “That was the bit that did it for me too. No way in hell do I want to share you, but the thought of it, seeing you with other men, sent me higher faster than I can remember before.” He paused, watched her for a few seconds. “Even when I’ve done it for real, it didn’t turn me on like that.” He cupped her face and stroked her cheek gently with his thumb. “You need to know that about me. I’ve been there, done that.”
“Why do I have to know?”
“Because if I don’t tell you, someone else will, and they might use it as a weapon to divide us.”
But after this conference, she’d never see him again, or only at a distance, on the stage. So brave of him to go first. For all he knew she could be the sleaze trying to fuck him away from his current publisher.
“It’s been good and you’ve taught me something about myself that I didn’t know. Or I did, but I didn’t know I could share it.”
“When you’re alone, frigging yourself to a climax, you think about that?”
Lost for words now, she nodded.
“Fuck, that’s hot.” He bent and kissed her. His erect cock brushed her thigh, leaving a spot of wetness behind when he straightened. “I’m honored you shared with me.”
“I’ve never shared that with anyone else before. It seems childish. You were in my fantasies.”
“If I’d met you before, you’d definitely have featured in mine. So you didn’t mind what I did? I felt so fucking guilty I couldn’t stay and care for you as I should have done. When I told you to get down and suck me, I should have stopped it.”
“No you shouldn’t. I did the rest of my own volition. You didn’t make me do anything. I could have got to my feet and left, or thrown you out, and you would have gone if I’d told you to. Wouldn’t you?”
“For sure. That was how I expected it to go.” He bent his head to kiss her. “You made me so wild, I lost my fucking mind.” He gazed at her, his eyes hungry. “That’s why I want to do more. I want to explore this with you.”
“How can we? I’m going back to New York on Monday. You’re going to Europe after your concerts.”
“You can’t take time off?”
She snorted. “Hardly. After a convention we have to work harder. Following up contacts, reading submissions…”
“Okay, I get it.” He lost the smile and sighed instead.
“Donovan, this can’t go anywhere.” He had to know that and so did she, for her own sanity.
He touched his lips to hers. “Why not? I want to see where it goes. Let’s see, shall we?” He shook his head. “About what I said this afternoon. I swear I don’t use groupies, or rather, I haven’t for a long time. It’s not for me, that kind of soulless sex. Once a man grows up a bit, he wants more. Using women like that, well, it’s no better than jacking off, and a fuck’s sight more dangerous. At first, there’s a thrill, the feeling that someone wants you that much, but you soon realize they don’t want you, they want what you stand for. Some of them make no bones about the way they collect rock stars. They can be fun, because they don’t expect any more than you can give them. Then there are the others, and they are the needy type.”
He stopped abruptly, gave a short laugh. He bent and kissed her before reverting to his previous position. “I haven’t spoken this long since forever.”
“You’re the strong, silent type?”
“Want me to show you?”
“My turn to show you, I think.”
When she pushed on his shoulders, he didn’t resist but rolled on to his back. Allie followed, coming to lie over him, opening her legs and straddling him, her weight on her knees and elbows. He glanced down and groaned. “Such a fantastic view.”
She teased him, shifting so her breasts moved and he took her invitation, cupping her and tweaking her nipples, sharpening her senses, concentrating her resolve. Her turn to have him.
He’d left the drawer ajar that he’d hastily dragged open to retrieve a condom and she grabbed another now, noting just how many populated the small space—a dozen, maybe more orange packets tumbled in disarray. That added to the collection on the top of the nightstand that she’d seen last night. She didn’t say anything. He laughed. “Rock star,” he said. “It’s expected.”
“Yeah?”
He caught her wrist, turned her hand so the packet lay on her open palm. “And I like myself enough to want to be sure I’m protected. That goes for you too.”
“I’m on the Pill.”
“I don’t care. We both deserve it. Self-respect, darling. One day, maybe, further down the road…” He shrugged.
Now she closed her hand over the sheath. “My turn.”
He smiled, lay back and folded his arms, tucking his hands behind his head. “Go ahead. I’m at your service.”
That sounded so English. She sat up, watching his eyes darken as she displayed her body for him. Unashamed now, glorying in his attention focused on her, she concentrated on her task, tearing the packet open and getting out the thin layer that would mean they came into less intimate contact.
Shockingly she didn’t want it. She wanted to feel him skin to skin, inside and out, but she knew it was wrong. She should love her body more, she shouldn’t want this. But how could she help it when he was sliding his hands over her body, touching her waist, cupping her breasts with an expression that made her wet for him?
She forced herself to concentrate on her task and glanced at his cock, now red and straining, a drop of moisture adorning the very tip.
One thing she could do. With sudden resolve, she bent and licked him. He cried out and she drew back, smiling. “Not yet.”
She hadn’t done this very often. Her previous boyfriends had mostly performed that action for themselves, too eager or too wary to trust her to the task. Now she appreciated how sensual it could be, to roll the protection over him, to smooth it down and listen to his breathing quicken as he watched her. “I’ll never do it for myself again,” he swore, but she knew he would. She wouldn’t always be there, for one thing.
Not now, don’t think about it now. She’d live for the moment, give herself wonderful memories.
She circled his cock at the base, her finger and thumb failing to meet. Beautiful, everything she could want in a man. And more. He was gloriously formed, the flange around the head mouthwateringly tempting, but he was hard, far harder than could be comfortable for him, and ready for her.
She didn’t need much preparation either. She slipped the fingers of her free hand between her legs, inserting two and opening them to stretch herself ready for him. Instead of being a practical move, the action turned her on and she pushed deeper.
He gasped. “Oh baby, that is hot. I could watch you doing that for hours. But not now. Have mercy.”
Laughing at the desperation in his voice, knowing she was about to make it all better, she lifted, balancing on her knees, and let him see her with her fingers deep in her pussy before she drew them out, wet with her essence. Before she could move, he grabbed her wrist and brought her fingers to his mouth, greedily sucking like a man deprived of the basics of life. She moaned as his tongue curved seductively around her fingers, surrounding them with soft, velvet heat. “You’ll pay for that.”
He released her fingers. “I will, h
uh?” In a movement as sudden as the one she’d used earlier, he grasped her waist and pulled her up to hover over his needy cock. “No more. Just do it.”
She had just enough control for one last tease. “You didn’t say the magic word.”
“Now,” he growled and pushed her down. Since she still held his cock at the base, he held steady and she took him. Like a dare, she stared into his eyes and released him when she had him, her inner muscles gripping him tightly. She wouldn’t stop now until she had him completely inside her.
He bared his teeth and made a small sound, strain or unbearable ecstasy, who knew? She sure didn’t.
Leaning forward, she rested her hands on either side of his powerful chest and pushed, using the pressure to help her work him. She watched his face as she fucked him, every time she raised her body and pushed down again making her movements easier. This would be enough, she thought, to see him responding to her like this, to have the power to bring him to a climax. She decided it would his best yet, the most powerful orgasm ever. Ever.
“Not right,” he said, gritting his teeth before arching his body to force her to lift her hands away from the sheet. In the moment she lost her balance, he pushed her back against his upraised legs. “That’s better.” He thrust and she gasped.
“You have some kind of homing instinct?”
“For your G-spot, yes. I found it and I’m keeping it.” He thrust again and thrills went through her, pushing her up, but she knew she didn’t want this. She didn’t want to lose control.
If she gripped his thighs, it gave her enough room to move. She loved the way his thrusts sent her higher, but it was her turn, she’d said so and she meant it. “Stay still. I’ll do it.”
He thrust but this time she resisted, moving away enough to stop his impact. “I said no.” She could use that as traction. In a moment, she had her feet tucked under him, her knees firmly in contact with the mattress again, and she could move. Not as effectively as before, but enough. Fuck, was that enough.
His wordless cry sounded as if he lay on the edge of pain but she didn’t stop. She had him now, even if it was at the expense of her own sanity. He pushed back, his thrusts meeting hers, and together they climbed the heights until her body became one screaming orgasm. Shattering around him, she felt his climax with triumph and pride. She’d done that.
She had him. Or he had her.
*
Leaving Allie sleeping, Donovan made his way groggily to the living room. He’d left it in here, somewhere—ah yes, on the kitchenette counter, near the pan he was using as a kettle.
Still only half awake, he poured some water in the pan and left it to boil and then put the coffeemaker on for Allie. It was a good bet that she preferred coffee in the mornings. If she didn’t like it, she could join him with a mug of tea.
His mobile chirped. Not wanting it to wake her, he pounced on it and answered it without looking at the caller. “Hi.”
“Hello, is that Donovan Harvey?”
On his guard now, he answered, “Who is this?”
“Linda Grant, the San Francisco News.Is it true you’re signing at the fantasy convention later today? Can you tell me the name of your book?”
“Hi, Linda.” The game was up. Shit. “It could be. You’ll have to come to find out.” He’d have to act on this or the whole signing could turn into a complete fiasco.
“How about an interview?”
“Later, maybe. Not now.” Without ceremony, he hung up, found a number on his speed dial and hit it. “Chick?”
“Yeah?”
He smiled, imagining Chick in bed, but somehow he couldn’t. At eight thirty, Chick Fontaine would be up and arranging the world until it conformed to his satisfaction. “Listen, I know I asked you to stay away—”
“But someone made you, huh?”
“A local reporter just called. This signing this afternoon, it’s about more than me. I don’t want it turned into a circus. Can you fix it?”
Chick sighed. “Not completely, but I can help. What do you want?”
“I want people to concentrate on the book, not on me.”
“It got on to the best seller lists on its own, man, without any help from the band. You knew this would happen. Let it. You have fans who love you for the book. They’ll be fighting each other soon. Book or band?”
Donovan would just bet that if he admitted defeat, Chick would make sure of that promotional ploy. It would spice up the band’s publicity nicely at this stage. But if he wanted to concentrate on his book career, he couldn’t work so hard with the band.
Enough. He’d always taken life’s events as they came, but now issues were crowding close. To add to that, he’d just met the most fantastic woman and he had a total of two days left with her. Three if he could persuade her to stay over one more night. It would be worth paying her fare to New York the next day. More than worth it.
“Listen, Chick, I don’t want the signing disrupted. I’m not here to sign CDs or to answer questions about Murder City Ravens.”
“Were you planning to go to the parade this morning?”
“Yeah.”
“Don’t. They’ll mob you. They’ll find you. Have you googled your name recently?”
Donovan snorted. “I’ve got better things to do.”
“Yeah? You should try it sometime.” Chick grunted. “Okay, I’m in San Fran, getting some R and R before the rest of the band arrives.”
“Where are they?”
“Jace is with his lady, holed up in a hotel somewhere. Not this one, and he won’t say where, but I’ll need Beverley soon.” Jace Beauchene had shacked up with lovely Beverley and Chick, knowing a good organizer when he saw one, employed her as his assistant. They’d already started the tour when Murder City Ravens had hit bigger than they could have imagined, and Chick had his work cut out arranging bigger venues. He needed an assistant on the road to take care of hotels and security, and Beverley had come along at the right time.
“Don’t disturb her. I can handle this.”
“No,” Chick said. “I’ll call her, because she’s got this weird-ass chart on her computer, keeping track of where everything is. It works for her, so it works for me. But I don’t need to call her in right away. I’m sending you a couple of guys. They’ll look after you and make sure you only sign what you want to.”
“Discreet.”
“Yeah, sure.”
“No suits,” he insisted. “Give them starship uniforms.”
A pause and then a bellow of laughter came down the phone. “That will be my absolute pleasure,” Chick said.
“I didn’t mean it seriously. Just no suits.”
“You got it. Anything else?”
He paused. “Yes. I have someone with me.”
“Female?”
“Yes. She has a job to do here, so I probably won’t appear in public with her.”
“Uh-huh. What’s her name?”
He ran a hand through his hair. “You won’t bother her?”
“Not if you don’t want me to.”
A movement from the door made him look around. Allie, adorably tousled and sleepy, stood there, a hotel robe loosely belted around her delectable body. “Hold on.”
Swiftly he brought her up to date. “They’re closing in. The fans. I’m getting security, which I hope will be discreet. Do you want to be included?”
Immediately, she shook her head. Locks of hair, hair he’d clenched in his fists last night, whipped around her face. “I have a job to do. I can’t do that with security.”
“Okay.” He turned back to Chick. “No, she doesn’t want anything, so we’ll be discreet.”
“If you think so, man.” Chick didn’t sound sure.
“I think so,” Donovan said firmly. “I won’t tell you her name, just to be sure.”
“Yeah, right.” They both knew he could find out if he asked the right questions. Especially after the evening before. Which reminded him. “I was in the bar last night, and someone
yakked over her. My—woman.” He sent Allie an apologetic grimace, hoping she’d understand. “I didn’t check for phones, but there had to be some around.”
Chick sighed heavily. “Great. I’ll get on it, but I can’t promise much. If the pictures are out there, the damage is done. I checked the net last night. I guess I’d better check it again.”
“Thanks.”
He said goodbye and hung up, turning all his attention to Allie. He lifted the coffeepot and she nodded, choosing a seat on the other side of the breakfast bar from him.
“Not good enough.” He put the pot down and came around the counter to claim a kiss. Only then did he go back and make her coffee. “So what do we do today?”
Her eyes rounded. “I go with Carl to the parade and then set him up for the signing.”
“After what he did to you?”
“He’s still my responsibility. Even more now. I have to keep him away from the bar.” She groaned. “And I have to find my way back to my room.”
“No problem.” After he’d poured coffee for her and made tea for himself, he crossed the spacious area to the phone. Only a year ago, the band members were sharing rooms in an adequate, comfortable hotel. Now they had suites and hallways of their own and hotels welcomed them with open arms. And their entourage. He hated having an entourage, but Atlanta had proved they needed higher security at the very least, and their own press officer helped enormously. They’d kept it as low as they could, but it was still more than he was comfortable with.
“Hi, can you put me through to the boutique, please?” He ordered jeans and a T-shirt. When he held his hand over the phone and asked her if she wanted underwear, he adored her embarrassed blush. She shook her head again and he told the woman no, that would do.
He put down the phone and went back to Allie, taking her in his arms and claiming her lips. She tasted so sweet, the mint of toothpaste and tang of coffee blending with her own delicious self. Asked to describe her taste, he’d be stumped. All he knew was that she tasted like no other woman and he wanted more.
“You’ve showered?”
“I’ve had a quick one, yes.”
“How about another quickie, with me this time?”
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