Ruby Tuesday

by Mari Carr

  She studied his face for a moment and he realized she was considering his words. Surely she wouldn’t agree, would she? His heart raced at the idea of sleeping with a naked Teagan in his arms all night. Before they’d begun this conversation, he hadn’t realized how much the idea appealed to him.

  “Fine,” she said so softly he wasn’t sure she’d spoken at all. She walked toward the bedroom and he followed, wondering what sort of Pandora’s box he’d just opened. Christ. He’d given his word not to have sex with her. He’d vowed to respect and protect her virginity. How the hell could he do that and still retain his sanity? He feared tonight would test the limits of his restraint more than he could withstand.

  As they entered the bedroom, he stood in the doorway, spellbound as she slipped her sweater over her head as casually as if they’d done this every night for years. She removed her jeans and undergarments just as easily. He nearly bit his lower lip off when she bent over to pull down the quilt and sheets coving the bed. She crawled in, looking at him expectantly.

  “Is something wrong?” she asked.

  Holy hell no, he thought. For some reason, everything she was doing felt very, very right. “Lie on your stomach,” he said.

  She grinned at the commanding tone in his voice. “More games?”

  He nodded, struggling to return her smile. He needed to keep things light, keep this thing growing between them casual. He could do casual. Fuck, casual was all he could do.

  She rolled over, treating him to the image of her shapely, smooth back and firm buttocks. His cock rose from zero to sixty in under a second and he hastily pulled off his own clothing, haphazardly discarding them on the floor.

  She laughed at his obvious eagerness. “We have all night,” she reminded him.

  “Don’t remind me, gypsy. I’m a man on the edge here. I have too many things I want to do with you—to you.”

  “Sky, about the promise—” she started, but he cut her off.

  “Say no if it goes too far. I swear to you I’ll stop.”

  She didn’t say anything and for a moment, he thought he saw the briefest glimpse of disappointment in her eyes. Did she want him to fuck her?

  The moment the thought crossed his mind, he dismissed it. He wouldn’t take her virginity. Not tonight. Not ever. Not even if she asked him to. This relationship—no, damn it, this friendship—was too new, too temporary for him to steal something so precious.

  Cementing that thought in his mind, he formulated a plan. Their sexual games had been relatively vanilla since the night he’d introduced her to anal play, as he’d found himself satisfied to merely kiss and touch her. With other women, he’d always needed the roughness, the edge of pain. He’d loved pushing his bedmates to darker, wilder explorations. With Teagan, all of that stopped as he found he was genuinely content to merely hold her, caress her.

  He crawled onto the bed and on top of her, caging her below his body. He felt her stiffen slightly when his cock brushed against her back. Maybe it was time to take them for a ride on the wild side. Maybe that would help him get on more even footing. He was skirting the edge of quicksand with her and he knew it.

  He bent down and pushed her long, lovely hair over her shoulder. He pressed a kiss on the nape of her neck and as easily as that, she relaxed beneath him. Her calmness was short-lived when he guided his cock between her thighs. It rested against her pussy, the dampness there coating his throbbing flesh. He’d intended to leave it there for just a moment, but the second he found himself between her legs, all his good intentions—hell, all his common sense—flew out the window.

  “Sky?”

  “Shh. I promised,” he said, the words getting harder and harder to say. “Push your legs together. Just for a second. Hold my cock tight with just your thighs.”

  She obeyed, and for a moment he just savored the heat of her pussy against his hard-on. God, he closed his eyes and tried to remember why this was wrong. It felt so damn right. “You know how I rub your pussy, your clit with my fingers?”

  She nodded.

  “Tonight I’m going to do the same thing with my cock. We’re going to go slow and easy and I swear to you, I won’t put it inside you. I just wanna feel those sexy juices of yours coating me, covering me.”

  She trembled slightly and he grimaced. She wanted this as badly as he did, but he was a damn fool for initiating it. He was pushing himself to the brink of disaster but he didn’t care. He wanted her right now more than he’d ever wanted another woman.

  He lifted his ass, slowly pulling his cock along the firm clasp of her thighs. It wasn’t as tight as he knew her pussy would be, but he didn’t mind. The sensations of this pretend fuck were enough for now. They had to be.

  He moved slowly up and down, absorbing her heat, the fluid flowing from her. He reached under her, using his fingers to tease her clit. She groaned at the first touch, her hips moving, reaching out for more. He felt the head of his cock bump against her entrance and for a moment, he swore it felt as if the devil himself was prodding him in the ass, daring him to just push it inside her a little. Just a little.

  She whimpered beneath him and the sound awakened his senses. He pulled away quickly for fear her thrusting motion would send his cock inside her whether they wanted it or not.

  “Hold still,” he murmured, running his hand along his flesh, trying to find relief. He missed the hot clasp of her thighs the second he moved and felt his body overruling his mind once more. “Just let me fuck your legs. Let me pretend I’m inside that hot cunt of yours.”

  “Too good,” she whispered. “I don’t think I can take this, Sky. Not without wanting more. Wanting it all.”

  He closed his eyes and gritted his teeth, trying to remind himself of all the reasons why he shouldn’t fuck her for real. Virgin. Casual sex. “God, gypsy. Please don’t say that.”

  She closed her eyes and he could sense the effort it was taking for her to pull herself together. Her breathing was harsh, heavy, labored. “This is too hard. Too hard.” A tear slid down her cheek.

  Fuck. He’d been a fool to think he could start something like this and expect it to end innocently. What the hell was he doing? Maybe subconsciously he’d been hoping to tempt her. Hoping to drive her beyond her limits so she’d surrender her body, her virginity to him.

  He took a deep, painful breath and pushed himself off her, moving to the side. Lying on his back, he covered his eyes with his arm and forced himself to breathe naturally. “I’m sorry,” he said when he felt able to speak.

  She didn’t reply and he opened his eyes. She’d covered herself with the blanket and he read the regret in her face.

  “You don’t have to be sorry, Sky. I seemed to have misplaced my ‘no’ there for a minute.”

  “I shouldn’t have initiated that. I was tempting fate.”

  “Do you want to know why I’ve never slept with a man?” she asked.

  He turned toward her, amazed by her sudden composure, her grace in light of the awkwardness of their situation. He’d been an asshole, but rather than being furious and telling him to get the hell out, she was giving him a reason, a rationale for her choices. She owed him nothing and yet, as always, she offered everything. “I assumed you were saving yourself for marriage.”

  She shook her head. “No, I’m not waiting for marriage.”

  He was surprised by her admission. “Then what?”

  “Love, Sky. I’m waiting for love.”

  “There are all kinds of love, gypsy.”

  She smiled, her face serene, beautiful. She was a woman who knew what she wanted, who wouldn’t compromise, regardless of his attempts to lead her astray. “I know that. I’m also old enough to know there are all kinds of things that disguise themselves as love. Infatuation, passion, fascination, lust. I’ve seen them all. Hell, I’ve felt them all, but they aren’t what I want. What I deserve.”

  She was wrong. She deserved all those things…and love.

  “So what do you want?” he asked, clear
ing his throat against the lump that had lodged there. He felt like a heel, an ass. She’d told him her limits and he’d pushed them, pushed her.

  “Someone kind and thoughtful. Someone with a sense of humor who loves music. Someone who looks at my crazy clothes and doesn’t seek to change my wardrobe but likes my silly style. Someone who thinks about me when he leaves and can’t wait to come home to me each night. Someone who accepts me for who I am, freckles and all.”

  He nodded. “That doesn’t seem too demanding.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Is that right? Then how come I’m twenty-six years old and I’ve never had sex? Apparently my sights are set way too high.”

  “No, they aren’t. I’m going to let you in on a little secret. Men are idiots.”

  She laughed. “That’s not exactly a secret, Sky.”

  He swatted her ass playfully. “You just haven’t met the right guy yet, Ruby. When you do, you’ll know, and he’ll be the luckiest bastard on earth.”

  Her smile dimmed and he suspected he’d hurt her with his words. Dammit. She didn’t think he could give her what she was looking for, did she? He was a fucked-up, driven rock star with too many aspirations and too much baggage. He wanted too much. Platinum albums, sold-out shows. He wanted to break every record a musician could break. He was too busy to fool around with an emotion as tricky, as complicated as true love.

  He looked at her for a moment before closing his eyes against her beauty. So if all of that was right, then why did his heart ache with the thought that one day she would find the love she was looking for…with someone else? Was he jealous? Jealous of her? Or was he jealous of her dream? While Teagan knew exactly what she was looking for, what she deserved, he was sitting inside one lonely hotel room after another, hiding from the paparazzi, hiding from real life, content to drift in a sort of rock star Neverland.

  “I think we should try to get some sleep,” he said at last. “It’s been a long day.”

  She leaned forward and kissed him lightly on the cheek. The touch was platonic, friendly, comforting.

  “Good night, rock star.”

  “Night, gypsy.”

  * * * * *

  Several days passed as Teagan and Sky continued to work on their music. The paparazzi hadn’t found them and for the first time in a long time, Sky was one-hundred-percent relaxed…and if he admitted it to himself, happy. As evening fell, they decided to call it a night on the songwriting. The days had begun to grow chillier, so he rose to throw some wood onto the fire he’d built earlier.

  “I’m going to make some hot chocolate,” she said. “You want some?”

  Sky resumed his seat, toying with the guitar. “Yeah, that sounds pretty good. Marshmallows?”

  She laughed. “Is there any other way to drink hot chocolate?”

  He wiggled his eyebrows. “A woman after my own heart.”

  He strummed a few chords of one of The Universe’s songs, the action relaxing after the long day spent working on their music. He listened as Teagan puttered around in the kitchen making their hot chocolate and he grinned at how comfortable their shacking-up together felt. She was easy to be around…when she wasn’t driving him crazy over the songwriting. He chuckled and shook his head. Even fighting over lyrics and chords with her was fun.

  He glanced up when she returned to the living room, startled when she cried out and spilled some of the steaming liquid on her hand.

  “Ouch, dammit!” she said, turning to set the cups down so she could rub her wrist.

  He rose quickly. “Are you okay? Here, let me see it.” He grasped her hand in his, leading her back to the kitchen where he ran cold water from the faucet over the red skin.

  “I-I saw a face,” she stammered and he realized she was shaking—not from pain, but from fear.

  “A face?”

  “In the window, behind where you were sitting in the living room.”

  Sky felt the hair on the back of his neck prickle. Had they been found?

  “I’ll go look,” he said, picking up a flashlight he’d noticed on the kitchen counter earlier. Teagan nodded as he left.

  For several minutes he circled the cabin, but if someone really had been there, they weren’t now. When he came back inside, Teagan had cleaned up the hot chocolate and was sitting on the couch, calmer.

  “Anything?” she asked.

  He shook his head and she shrugged.

  “I’m trying to figure out if I just imagined it,” she said ruefully. “I’m a city girl through and through. I can’t begin to tell you how much the silence of this place freaks me out sometimes.”

  He laughed at her admission as he locked the front door and joined her. He took her hand and looked at the small burn. The redness was already fading.

  “We’ll only be here for a couple weeks more and then you can go home to your incessant car horns, smoggy air and treeless existence.”

  “Thank God,” she said with fake relief. “Sorry,” she added sheepishly.

  He leaned over and kissed her lightly. “No problem. It’s been a damn long day. I think we should try to get some sleep.”

  She nodded as he led them to the bedroom. They changed into their pajamas, falling asleep within moments of lying down.

  * * * * *

  The first week passed with a lazy, quiet sort of contentment. He and Teagan quickly fell into a comfortable pattern, working on their songs, eating, talking, taking long walks by the river. They’d continued to share the bed, but he hadn’t initiated any more playing. Touching her, kissing her had ceased to be a game to him and he found it impossible to think of their relationship as anything even remotely resembling a casual affair, so instead they’d become friends. Teagan seemed to take the newfound platonic nature of their relationship in stride. She was an amazing woman and he knew she would never pressure him for something he couldn’t give.

  He’d called Natalie and Rod a couple times to check in. His friends were relieved to know he’d escaped the paparazzi again and Natalie had expressed some jealousy over his vacation spot. She’d tried to invite herself to the cabin for a visit, but Sky had shot her down. He was barely able to sort out his confused feelings for Teagan. Natalie would take one look at him and realize he was a man on the edge. He’d expected his attraction to Teagan to wane or at the very least abate with the removal of their sex games. Unfortunately that plan had yet to pan out.

  He’d also endured another rather painful conversation with Marty regarding his decision to leave the band. To say Marty wasn’t taking the news well was the understatement of the century. Sky wasn’t sure, but he thought the man had cried a bit at the end of the phone call.

  By the end of their first week together, Sky realized his musical partnership with Teagan, the songs they were writing, could very well shoot him into another sphere professionally. He’d never been more proud of anything he’d done as a musician.

  Of course, that point would be moot if he couldn’t get his computer working. He tapped a few more keys on the laptop, frustrated by the blue screen of death that stared at him.

  “Fuck,” he said, slamming his hand down on the worthless hunk of metal.

  “Still not working?” she asked. He’d been trying to open a file for the last hour.

  “No, the damn thing says I’ve got a virus. Christ, Teagan, all our songs are on this computer.”

  She shrugged, unconcerned, reaching for her notebook. “Guess you’re just going to have to admit that sometimes the old ways really are better.”

  He laughed when she opened her beloved book, all the pages filled with their notes, their lyrics, their songs. He’d teased her relentlessly about writing out their music longhand when he had a software program that would make it easy.

  He bowed to her. “Okay, I stand corrected on this one small point.”

  She shook her head. “You’ll have to do a helluva lot better than that.”

  “I was wrong and you were right,” he muttered, certain the grin on his face was giving a
way the fact that he didn’t mind conceding the argument. She had their songs. The sheer relief of that fact pretty much ensured he’d say anything, do anything for her.

  “That’s better. I knew it was just a matter of time before I wore you down,” she said, standing up and stretching. He was treated to a glimpse of her breasts outlined by her T-shirt and he felt his traitorous cock rise to the surface. Damn thing had been residing at half-mast for a week.

  “I suppose we should get some sleep. I can barely keep my eyes open.” She gestured to his computer. “You can keep beating on that piece of junk in the morning.”

  Sky nodded and yawned.

  “The thing is toast,” he agreed. He watched her walk to their bedroom, just as she had every night for a week—and he was struck by the realization that he wanted to make love to her.

  Make love. Their bedroom.

  Jesus.

  She turned, confused when he failed to follow her. “Is something wrong?” she asked.

  “No, I—I just want to make sure the door is locked. Go on. I’ll be there in a minute.”

  She continued on and he walked to the mantel of the fireplace, gripping the wood tightly. He wanted to make love to Teagan. Sky Mitchell, king of the casual fuck, wanted to make love to her. He didn’t do that. Hell, he wasn’t sure he’d ever made love to Holly and they’d actually discussed marriage. Their sex life had been as volatile and heated as their romance. Love hadn’t really figured into the equation.

  This was wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong. His head yelled at him to get a grip. He only thought he was in love with her. It was Teagan who was messing with his mind. She was a virgin. She was presenting a challenge he thought he’d been resisting. It was the old “wanting what you can’t have” game. That had to be it. He wanted her because he couldn’t have her. Teagan was saving herself for love, so he’d convinced himself he was in love with her.

  Time to snap out of it, boy. You take her now, you’re locking the ball and chain on your ankle and tossing away the key.

  He took a couple deep breaths and walked to the front door. It was locked, just as he’d known it was. He reached over and pulled a blanket off the back of the couch, lying down on the lumpy cushions. He could resist her. He had to. He had his solo career, his future to think of.