She slipped her warm hand from his grasp, and Malcolm stepped back from her. Running his eyes up and down her body, he loved what he saw—her incredibly full breasts, the curves on her hips and backside…she was beautiful. She had a type of body Malcolm hadn’t seen in all the years of dating models—the type of body he, and most men, loved—thin, but with definite rounded turns.
Malcolm had become proficient at pretending to be attracted to the bodies of the women he dated. They were beautiful, no doubt, and like a work of cold, modern art, they could be appreciated for their own style of perfection: tall, stick skinny, hard, and angular. But this body before him…Summer’s body… He shifted his weight from foot to foot, fighting his growing attraction, amazed at how easy it was to be tempted by her softness and swell. Even though she was trying to hide it under her blossoming shirt, Malcolm loved the way her tummy was slightly rounded—convex instead of concave—and he wondered why she felt the need to disguise it. Probably because she, like he, was fed unreal images of what a female body should look like. Malcolm wondered why no one in the fashion business ever dressed bodies like Summer’s. This body would inspire Malcolm to buy something for the woman he cared about…if there was a woman he cared about.
Malcolm smiled at the thought of Summer’s body, knowing full well he was being had. There was no way a woman with this much body fullness was a model, but he wasn’t going to say anything, just in case she hadn’t realized it yet. If Summer had come to the city to pursue her dreams of being a model, well, life would squash those dreams soon enough, without his help.
“Can I help you?” She caught his stare.
She smiled in the most relaxed, unassuming way, and it made Malcolm happy.
“Well actually…” Malcolm stepped closer to her and at once, felt both her excitement and her hesitation.
Summer stepped back, distancing herself a bit so she was just out of his grasp. “What do you say you show me around this place?”
“The hotel room?” Malcolm raised his eyebrows.
“Yes. I’ve never seen a hotel room like this.” She stopped and furrowed her brow. “Unless, are you too tired? I’m being insensitive. Sorry. You must be exhausted.”
Once again this woman caught him by complete surprise. No one ever thought about how he was feeling. Of course he wasn’t complaining or looking for sympathy. He was a musician, a rock star, with houses and cars and tons of money. He had everything—well, on the surface anyway, which was still a lot more than most people. But it just struck Malcolm that although he was constantly being criticized for using women, they were using him just the same.
“No,” Malcolm shook his head. “Thanks, though. My adrenaline’s still up. I won’t get tired for quite some time.” He fixed his stare on her.
Summer smiled coyly, and Malcolm wondered if she caught his meaning. Of course she did. This was not a woman who missed much of anything. He breathed her in, her scent now reminding him of a lazy summer day.
“So, the tour…” Walking beside her, Malcolm led Summer through the maze of rooms making up his hotel suite. “This is the sitting area, with a large screen TV…”
“Mm-hm…” Summer stared at all the high end, ultra modern furnishings. “Good grief,” she turned and pointed to the corner of the living area, “is that a spiral staircase leading to another room of this suite?”
“The bedroom.” Malcolm’s gaze was heavy on hers, looking for the answer. He knew why she was here, but he still needed to be completely sure. He couldn’t deny the attraction between them, but he had to be sure she wasn’t expecting this to be the beginning of something he couldn’t offer.
“Oh…”
Summer looked down, and Malcolm smiled at her blush.
“C’mon.” Malcolm walked her through the rest of the suite, with stainless appliances and granite in the kitchen, and a balcony overlooking Manhattan.
“Wow,” Summer whispered when she stepped out onto the balcony.
“Beautiful, huh?”
They were side by side, facing out over Manhattan.
“I never knew it could be this beautiful…”
“Are you new to the city?” Malcolm turned to her. He could feel her sensuality. He rested his forearms on the railing, noticing her stare.
“Been here for just a few days, actually.”
She looked down as if she was embarrassed by this omission. The expression, “Just fell off the turnip truck” jumped to Malcolm’s mind. He smiled.
“I’m just here for the summer.” Summer shifted from foot to foot.
Malcolm wondered if her feet were getting tired in her high-heeled boots. How do women spend hours in those things?
“Really?” Malcolm knew if she were here to model, she would be giving it at least a year. And if she really wanted it, she would chase it indefinitely. No one can pursue a life dream with a clock for a master. Hell, when Malcolm was first starting out, he would have chased music forever if that’s what it took. Nothing would have stopped him—no, nothing did stop him. Malcolm closed his eyes, halting his thoughts. He took a deep breath, shaking off a chill. Why? Why was he so melancholic tonight?
“Really.” Summer turned to him.
Malcolm nodded. To her credit, she fixed her stare on him and offered no more explanation. She was playing some sort of game here. He just didn’t know what it was. That didn’t really surprise him; people, women, were usually with him because they were after something. The difference is, he always knew what they wanted. But with Summer, it was different.
Malcolm stepped closer to her and raised his hand. He reached out and touched her hair, letting his hand run down a long, shiny lock, wondering what she looked like straight out of a shower, without Jeanette’s obvious input. He chuckled slightly at his surprising thoughts.
Summer closed her eyes and leaned against his hand. He flinched, the intimacy of the action scaring him… He always made sure any woman he was with understood his rules—this was one night only. He had no room or desire for a woman in his life. His life was perfectly bearable exactly as it was, and he wasn’t about to risk it.
He pulled his hand back, but she grabbed it and returned it to her cheek. “I understand, Malcolm. I’m not an idiot.”
She looked up at him with giant jade colored eyes, her lids, heavy. Malcolm shifted, making room in his jeans for his obvious attraction.
“Summer…”
“Shh…”
As he dropped his hand, she placed hers on his chest. Even through his shirt, Malcolm felt the warmth of her touch.
“I understand the rules. Jeanette explained them to me. I’m okay with it. You’re not leading me on. Please don’t feel any…concern about being with me. I mean, if you do want to be with me…”
She blushed again, looking down. Instinctually, Malcolm placed his finger under her chin and raised her giant, gorgeous eyes back up to his. Her slight insecurity riled a protective instinct Malcolm hadn’t felt…maybe ever. As his eyes danced back and forth across hers, his body assured him he liked the pace this was going. He liked how she expected him to be a man. So many women made their way into his hotel room only to take charge from beginning to end. It was another thing society was feeding women—this idea they had to be wild, forward, and aggressive in the bedroom. Time after time, Malcolm would pop a champagne cork, only to turn back to the couch to find the woman fully naked, lying prone on his couch. Other times, women would climb on top of him in the elevator—whether they were alone or not. So often the women would be drunk, and that wasn’t cool. Malcolm wouldn’t do anything with a drunk. But a tad tipsy and fully coherent, like Summer, well that was just endearing. And he liked that she was waiting for him to make the moves. That she expected him to be a man. That she wanted him to work for her. He smiled.
“Hey,” Malcolm whispered.
Summer stared at him, her eyes hungry.
“I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t wanna spend some time with you.”
Summer exhaled an
d smiled, a real radiant smile that warmed Malcolm’s heart. He liked her smile—warm, friendly, with perfect white teeth and pink lips. It made him feel happy. He let his hand come to rest on her cheek once more.
****
Summer could barely stand up. She loved the feeling of Malcolm’s hand on her cheek. It was so incredibly intimate it awakened feelings in her she had never before experienced—of being wanted and desired and coveted. She liked feeling this close to Malcolm, she liked the strength of his arm, the sinews of his muscles, his wrist and forearm flexors, the brachloradialis…oh the heck with it, he oozed confidence, and that made him incredibly sexy.
She inhaled deeply, but as much as she was enjoying every second of this, she felt pressure. There was the definite element of time working against her. Hadn’t Jeanette told her Malcolm would use her quickly and toss her out? Was she blowing this by spending too much time acting as if this was a normal date? And what was normal anyway? Did she actually know? The amount of sexual experience Summer had was severely limited. She had lost her virginity in the back of a pickup truck to a boy she dated in high school. The most memorable part of that experience was when it was over—lying there, staring up at the night sky, sipping a warm beer. After that, her next and only real experience was with Dr. Brad…and that was less than fulfilling.
But with Malcolm…her hands were tingling, and her whole body was alive with anticipation. He stroked her cheek, his thumb gently caressing her skin, and her breath raced. She closed her eyes and turned her head, her lips gently grazing his thumb. Summer looked up and saw desire in Malcolm—his chest heaving up and down. He stepped forward, his fingers gently tracing the outline of her lips. She wished she knew what to do, she was certain he dealt with incredibly sexy, knowledgeable women night after night…and here she was, waiting for him to make the moves. She knew, no matter what Malcolm did, it would most certainly fulfill her wildest fantasies…but would she fulfill his?
Malcolm stepped closer to her, and the warmth of the hot Manhattan night enveloped them. Summer felt a bead of perspiration trickle down between her breasts and her nipples harden. Malcolm’s eyes dropped down to her breasts before he stepped even closer, their bodies full against one another. Summer could feel the leanness of his muscles as he pushed against her. She fit against him perfectly, her softness surrounded and protected by his strength. Her breasts pushed against his chest, and he wrapped his arms around her, letting his hands drop down to her backside. He moved his hands to her hips and pulled her even closer. Her breath hitched as she felt him against her…ready for her.
“Summer…”
A chill washed over Summer, eliciting tiny bumps up and down her arms. His voice was pure magic, and although it was a voice she knew well, she was hearing it for the first time tonight.
He leaned down, and Summer felt the slightest scruff from his unshaven chin brush against her cheek. She nuzzled against it, loving the feel of him—strong, and so incredibly masculine. She gripped his waist, steadying herself, her body aching…she wanted to give him everything—now. Her eyes floated up to meet his, and she was lost in the danger of his face, and the depth of his eyes.
His breath quickened, and she knew he was as invested as she was. His arms slid around her waist, and he held her, close.
Summer closed her eyes and stretched up onto her tiptoes. Her hands rested on his shoulders, grasping the material of his shirt. Malcolm leaned down, his lips nearly brushing hers…
Her breath ran away from her, and she closed her eyes, hoping her body would remember to keep up. But the heck with ventilation, diaphragmatic respiration, who cares? She was in Malcolm Angel’s arms and he was about to…
She felt the warmth of his breath…his lips grazing hers, when she heard…
“Knock, knock. There you are.”
Chapter Six
Summer jumped and broke apart from Malcolm. A slight gasp escaped as her cheeks burned with color. “It’s only vascular dilation, brought about by stress,” she muttered under her breath, but her attempts to calm down by using medical justifications and excuses were futile.
A strange man glanced at her—did she recognize him? Either way, he never bothered to lift his gaze high enough to make eye contact. Summer draped her arm across her hard and extremely noticeable nipples, cursing Jeanette under her breath.
Malcolm stuffed one hand into his pocket and stepped forward, offering his free hand to the man. After the men shook hands, Malcolm turned to Summer.
“Uh, Summer, this is my bass player, Jimmy.”
“Hello.” Of course…the bass player. He looked different offstage. Normal. Summer spoke as casually as she could, considering there was now a second man in this equation.
Jimmy said nothing but let his eyes run up and down Summer’s body. Summer shook her head and glared at Malcolm. To his credit, Malcolm seemed embarrassed.
“Oh, uh, hi,” Jimmy finally offered, stepping toward Summer.
Suddenly, Summer didn’t feel right.
She put both hands behind her and grasped the rail of the balcony. Her grip tightened as she looked from man to man, wondering if her night of ecstasy was quickly becoming a night from hell. She glanced over her shoulder, preparing for an escape route, but there was no way down—they were just too high up. That meant she would have to get past both men to escape out the door. And there was no way she’d be able to outrun or fight off Malcolm.
Summer stood there seconds more, mentally kicking herself. Why? Why was someone as smart as she, acting so incredibly dumb? Because she was desperate? Because he was a celebrity? She scoffed. No matter who he was or wasn’t, she’d allowed herself to go to a hotel room with a complete stranger. She shook her head. When did she become so careless? Time and again she had warned Jeanette against doing this exact thing, yet here Summer was. But Jeanette…surely Jeanette would know if Malcolm Angel was into some weird, kinky…anything…and would have warned her. Right?
Summer set her jaw and steeled her nerves. The one thing she was certain of is that she could rely on her brain. She was smart, and that would surely get her out of a jam. Just as she was about to speak, Jimmy turned to Malcolm.
“Any leftovers?” Jimmy tossed his head in the direction of Summer.
Malcolm shook his head.
Summer saw red. Her shoulders climbed up and rage took over where passion was, only moments before. “Any leftovers? Leftovers?” Her breathing quickened for an entirely different reason. “Seriously?” Summer glared at Malcolm, and all the desire she felt only minutes earlier, melted away. “That’s what you think of women? I know you have no respect for us at all, but to pass us along when you’re done? Handing your band members some poor unsuspecting woman when you’re through with her?” Summer stepped closer to both men, hardly able to keep from yelling. She stood toe to toe with Malcolm, sadness replacing the anger she felt only seconds before. “It’s my decision to be here with you. I’m a big girl. I knew there wasn’t any romance here. I knew you…you…” she racked her brain for a word coarse enough, “…used women for one night only, and I was okay with that. But to pass us along like something you sell on eBay? ‘Here you go guys, ready for the highest bidder…still warm from Malcolm Angel’s bed’…” Summer shook her head, her stomach aching. “It’s sickening, and you should be better than that.”
With that, Summer grabbed her bag and stormed out of Malcolm’s hotel room. She felt his eyes on her as she left.
****
“I don’t want to talk about it.” Summer marched past Jeanette, making her way into Jeanette’s hotel room.
“It didn’t go the way you’d hoped, I’m guessing.” Jeanette was still dressed from the show with a wineglass in her hand. “I’m sorry, Sum.”
Summer clomped around the room, wild with anger. Then it dawned on her. “Where’s Elijah?”
“Meeting.” Jeanette plopped down on the couch, pushing a fashion magazine out of the way.
Summer reasoned from the half full b
ottle of wine, Jeanette must have been alone all evening.
“I’m sorry, Jean.” Summer softened, concentrating on her friend’s unhappiness.
“Don’t be. You sure you don’t want to talk about it?”
“Ugh. Yes. I’m sure. Can I take a shower? I’ll be quick. I want to get as far away from ‘the woman who almost seduced Malcolm Angel’ as possible.”
“Almost, huh?”
Jeanette raised an eyebrow, and Summer crossed her arms in front of her chest. Jeanette chuckled.
“Of course. Take a shower. Feel better.” Jeanette pointed behind Summer. “In there.”
“Thanks. I promise to be gone before Elijah gets back.”
“Don’t worry about it.” Jeanette swirled the wine in her glass before swallowing another big gulp. “He’ll be too tired to do anything when he gets here anyway.”
Jeanette shrugged, and Summer saw disappointment in her friend’s gorgeous face.
“Jean, do you want to talk?”
“About as much as you do.” Jeanette lifted her glass. “Come on, shower. I miss the real Summer. Then come sit with me, and we’ll get loaded.”
“Sounds like a plan.” Summer exited to the bathroom.
****
Summer came out of the bathroom with her face scrubbed clean, and her hair back to its usual coarse, wavy self. Still grumpy, she walked into Jeanette’s living room, planning to drown her sorrows.
Malcolm Angel was standing there.
“I—uh…” Unable to form words, Summer focused on cinching the belt of her white fluffy robe.
Malcolm stared at her as if she were a diamond on display in the window of a fancy New York jewelry store…and she didn’t mind the feeling.
“You’re beautiful,” he blurted.
Startled, both women turned to him. Malcolm dragged his hand across his chin, seeming equally as surprised by his outburst.
Summer of Irreverence: The Rock Star (The New York Artists Series) Page 5