by Kylie Scott
“It happens,” I answered, sounding stilted. “Oh, umm…hi.”
“My stylist goes off at me every time. He almost burst into tears the time I cut myself bangs. Honestly, you’d think I’d learn.”
My brain wouldn’t work, so I said nothing.
“Starstruck again,” muttered Adam. “Incredible.”
“Oh dear, that sounds like jealousy. Isn’t she finding you sufficiently impressive?” Mae grinned. “They can’t all fall at your feet, Adam. It would get boring.”
He frowned. “With her, just once would be nice.”
“Best of luck with that.” Mae patted him on the cheek and disappeared.
Adam closed the door with a frown.
“Any other famous people going to appear?” I asked, stirring my fork through the midnight meal. “If so, I kind of need time to mentally prepare myself.”
“I hope not.” He sat down once more, heaping his fork. “You know they’re just normal people with high-profile jobs, right?”
“Yes, but they have that famous-people thing about them.”
He raised a brow. “In that case, don’t I have that thing?”
“No,” I said. “I’ve lived with you. You are neither glossy and lit from within nor mysterious and otherworldly. Like Mae. Or Mal, even if he is crazy.”
“The only thing mysterious about Mal is how someone hasn’t snapped and killed him yet.”
I laughed.
We ate in silence for a while, the scissors sitting on the counter between us like both a promise and a threat. Maybe I shouldn’t have offered to cut his hair, despite it badly needing a trim and then some. Cutting hair was my job, but it still involved touching. Not always pleasant, but not usually something that resulted in an existential crisis on my part. Normally the touching component wasn’t something I gave a great deal of thought to, due to having a professional attitude, etcetera. However, I wasn’t certain I should be getting within six feet of this particular male. And yet, on the other hand, I couldn’t help but feel a smidgeon of proprietary attachment to both the man and his hair. God, this was complicated. Feelings were the worst.
“What?” he asked with a raised brow, the bowl of food in front of him already almost empty. He started gathering up the dirty plates and putting them into the sink. The leftovers went into the fridge. A nice show of newfound domestic abilities.
“Finish up and I’ll do your hair, then I better get going.”
“You want to leave?”
“You want me to stay?”
“I already said as much.”
I licked my lips. “Thought you just meant for an hour or two, not the night.”
He lifted one shoulder in a shrug.
As if that told me anything. Ugh. And then a random and slightly scary thought occurred to me. I stood tall and raised my chin. “I’m not sleeping with you.”
“You’re not, huh?”
“Nope.”
“I find it interesting that that was where your mind went, because who said anything about sex?” It was like the word sex hung in the hair between us, his tone of voice a dare. If he hadn’t been thinking about it before then, he sure as hell was now. “Maybe you missed me more than you’re letting on.”
No wonder I couldn’t find my balance with him. He switched from seemingly sweet and innocent to blatant and porny in the blink of an eye. His gaze darkened and he stared me down, taking me in with seemingly infinite patience. And there was such intimacy in his eyes. Such knowledge of me and us and every damn thing we’d ever done together. Because irrespective of everything else that hadn’t worked in our relationship, the sex had always worked. Despite the heat in my cheeks, I couldn’t have looked away if I tried. Next, a shiver worked its way down my spine, every inch of me suddenly hyper-aware of the skin I was in. Of the heaviness in my breasts and ache between my legs. Stupid hormones and body.
For so damn long, the male race in its entirety had left me cold and unmoved. After getting my heart smashed, it had been a bit of a relief to take a break. But now…how could I have forgotten?
Talk about unfair. The man was beautiful.
I swallowed hard. “Stop it.”
“Stop what?”
“You’re staring.”
“So are you.” Then he smiled as if something had been decided. I did not trust that smile. It was a sly sort of thing, suggesting he remembered full well what I looked like naked but wouldn’t mind a refresher if I’d be so kind as to disrobe. Damn him and his heated looks. I did not need this sort of confusion in my life.
“Fine,” I said with way too much going on inside me. “Whatever. As long as you know nothing is happening between us. I’m not here for anything like that. Just to cut the split ends off your hair and shave a zero off that check. That’s all.”
“Okay,” he said, face a careful blank.
“Great. Glad we got that sorted.”
“You know what I just realized?” he asked, standing and pulling his tee over his head. Just getting half-naked as if that were in any way acceptable and flashing the upper half of his lean hard body at me. The bastard. All of his ink and smooth skin and…oh my God I was melting inside. At this rate I’d be a puddle of girl goo in no time.
“What are you doing?” I squeaked.
“Don’t want hair stuck in my shirt.” He pushed his hair back from his face and dragged the barstool away from the counter into an open space. “This do?”
“Yeah. I’ll need a brush and comb too.”
He wandered off toward the bathroom, retrieving the requested items. Then he sat down and patiently waited. Still half-naked, dammit. “I was telling you about the moment I just had.”
And I was seriously not certain I wanted to know.
“That being defensive and in denial isn’t going to get us anywhere.”
I sniffed. “Speak for yourself. I have no plans to get myself anywhere anyway.”
“Think about it. This is a chance for us to clear the air. To maybe get things sorted between us. Get on the road to being friends, if that’s what you want.”
Oh no. Hell no. Being Adam’s buddy sure as hell wasn’t in the cards. My fake smile couldn’t possibly stand up to seeing him with another woman. Not that I’d be saying that out loud anytime this century.
“Things are sorted. They have been for a long time. Are you sure you trust me around you with sharp objects?” I asked, mostly joking. Like, ninety-nine percent.
“I trust you just fine.”
No comment from me. I picked up the shears, testing out their motion. Mae certainly hadn’t scrimped on quality. They were professional-level. With the scissors back on the bench, I took up the brush and started in on his tangles. No big deal. Just doing my job. Nothing special about touching him and being all up in his face at all. If my fingers hesitated a moment before making contact…it was just one of those things. The weirdness of exes and so on.
There’d been no lie when he said I liked how he smelled. Getting closer only amped it up more. Hard not to take a few nice deep breaths. At this range, the faint spicy hint of his aftershave lotion became detectable. Something expensive, no doubt. In all likelihood, my reaction to him could be labeled the comfort of familiarity. He’d been the great love of my life up until now, but others would come, and I’d eventually move on. Some of them might even end up better in bed than Adam. You never knew. Miracles did happen.
He reached for his phone, putting on some old Fleetwood Mac. One of my favorites.
Meanwhile, I carefully brushed out his hair, ignoring the heat of his skin and the width of his shoulders because…I was a boss like that. “You should take better care of it. Two-in-one shampoo is lazy-ass nonsense and you know it.”
“You had a nose-around, huh?”
“Nope. Lucky guess, that’s all.”
He was smart enough not to fall for that. “Looking for anything in particular?”
I sighed. “No. Just looking.”
“Right.” He chuckled
. “Can’t believe you haven’t been on even one date in the last year.”
“Can’t believe you’re making a big deal out of it.” I exchanged the brush for the comb. “If I want company, I have friends. If I feel the need to get laid, I can organize that without too much difficulty as well. I just wasn’t in the mood. Stop reading so much into it.”
“I know. I’m well aware you don’t need anyone just for the sake of having someone,” he said. “But you were a great girlfriend. Partner. Whatever you want to call it. Seems a shame you’re not interested in sharing your life with someone special, you know?”
I sighed. “I’m just going to say thank you, and we’re going to stop this line of questioning, okay?”
A nod from him.
“A couple of inches off sound good?”
“Whatever you think is best.”
So I started cutting, stopping to brush hair off his back and shoulders as I went. Nothing special about skimming my fingers across his warm skin time and again. Nothing remarkable about the way he silently watched me as I worked on his front. Even if his gaze did ever so slightly unnerve me. The way he took in my eyes, my mouth, and the line of my neck leading down to my chest. The way the little hairs on his body stood on end, and so did mine. Guess we both got to each other. We always had.
I didn’t rush the job, but I didn’t mess around either.
“Take one of the zeros off the check,” I prodded when the silence had stretched too long.
“No.”
“Stop being difficult or we’re never going to reach an agreement.”
“You earned the money. Keep it.” His voice was low and quiet. Determined. “I want you to have it.”
I frowned. And then I paused, taking his face in my hand and inspecting his stubbled jawline. The pad of my thumb ran back and forth over a small pink indentation. “What is this? How did you get this scar?”
“Someone threw a chunky silver ring at me at a festival about six months back. I think it was meant to be a gift.”
“Hell of a gift.”
“Just bad luck.” He reached up and gave my hand a squeeze. “Don’t worry about it.”
“I thought you had security.”
“They can’t be everywhere all the time. Things happen.” A sweet slow smile curled his lips. “Jill, baby, I’m fine. It’s just rock and roll. No need to get angry.”
“I’m not angry.” Mildly outraged he’d been harmed, but not angry.
“Then stop scowling, you’re scaring me to death.”
“Very funny.” With a deep breath, I relaxed my face and channeled some nice calm thoughts. “People shouldn’t be throwing things at you. It’s rude and dangerous.”
“Usually it’s just panties, flowers—soft stuff like that.”
“Ew.”
His smile amped up and he was back to staring. God I liked that way more than I wanted to admit. But he had to know. What with the way I kept meeting his gaze before looking away, acting all nervous and on edge.
Finally, he licked his lips. “You wouldn’t believe how many times I thought about picking up the phone to call you. Wanting to tell you about something that had happened. Then I’d remember…you didn’t want to talk to me.”
“Like you weren’t mad at me too.”
“Oh, I was. For a week or two. Then I just felt like an ass more than anything.”
“So, what? You wrote that whole album during the week or two you were angry at me?”
“Yeah. Basically. Channeled everything into the music. Worked through it all and realized I was wrong, and you were right.” He watched me with a raised brow. “But the songs were good. It wasn’t like I was going to let them go to waste and not play them.”
“Of course not.” I snorted and set down the scissors. “Say it again, the I was right and you were wrong part.”
“I was right, and you were wrong.”
I growled and launched myself at him, putting much energy into messing up his now nice and neat hair, making it fall all over his stupid handsome face, sprinkling tiny snippets of cut hair all over us, like so much confetti. “You’re done, Adam. In all the ways.”
“Wait, wait, wait.” He grabbed my hips, grinning all the while. “I was wrong. You were right. There…I said it.”
“Again.”
All amused-like, he looked skyward. “You’re a demanding woman. You know that?”
“Damn right I am.”
“Damn right you are.”
Impossible not to smile back at him. Lord, I was a weak-willed woman. His fingers flexed, digging into the flesh of my hips just a little, and perhaps Adam still felt a touch possessive about me and my body too.
He slipped a hand behind my ear, gentle as can be. “I like the silver hair.”
“Thanks.” We were whispering for some reason.
For the longest time, he just kept staring at me. It was as if we were both hypnotized by the sight of the other. Neither of us could stop. His hand lingered on the side of my head before slipping around to embrace the back of my neck and urge me forward. Pulling me closer. And I couldn’t not taste him. My mouth watered at just the thought.
“Adam…”
“I’m right here.”
Which was kind of both the good part and the problem.
He ushered my body between his spread legs and our mouths were on exactly the right trajectory for impact. One. Two. Three. Bam. We were kissing. Lips pressing softly together at first before the hunger grew. It was all so familiar and right. Easy, even. With one hand grabbing the back of my neck just how I liked it and the other beneath my tee, sliding over the skin of my back, the man kissed me hard and sure. His tongue slid against mine. His teeth nipped at my bottom lip.
My head spun and my knees went weak. My blood boiled inside my veins. I wanted everything and I wanted it now. So much for not sleeping with him. If this didn’t end in an orgasm, there’d be hell to pay. I needed it so badly. And not just from anyone, it had to be from him.
I’d forgotten how well we fit together. How perfect his mouth was against mine. Way back when we’d been together, he’d made a study of how to please me physically for both the right and wrong reasons. Adam loved working things out in bed, and I had to admit…I didn’t mind it either. Sex to get my mind off the mess he’d made. Sex to distract me from our money situation. Or yes, even sex just to see me smile. And he hadn’t forgotten a damn thing. If only he’d used his powers for good instead of evil, we might still be together.
His firm wet lips fed me kiss after kiss as his hard thighs clamped shut on my hips (as if I were going anywhere). Stepping back from him, pulling away had never even crossed my mind. That’s the honest truth. All of the heat inside of me had roared back to life at his touch. My body had been asleep for so long. Instead of doing the sensible thing, I fisted my hands in his hair and gave as good as I got. Biting and licking and demanding more.
A growl rumbled up from deep in his throat and his hands shifted, changing position to attack the button and zipper of my jeans. It was like the item of clothing personally offended him or something. Had done him wrong.
“Shoes,” I panted.
“Shit.”
Again, his hands moved, cupping my ass cheeks, lifting me off my feet and depositing me on the kitchen counter. Slashes of pink highlighted his cheekbones. With nil preamble, he tore into the laces on my boots, wresting the shoes and socks from my feet. Next came my jeans. This was the benefit of him being bigger and me being smaller. In times of duress, he could just lift and maneuver me as required. It was time effective if nothing else.
The nice thing about screwing around with an ex was the lack of physical angst. He’d seen my body many times before. Knew my ass wobbled a little and that my breasts were small. For certain, there was no performance anxiety or fear of him finding the dimples on my thighs off-putting. So that was a bonus. It should also be noted that guitarists’ hands are mighty swift and sure. A pair of panties went flying over his shoulde
r and my tee and bra weren’t far behind. I sat bare-assed on the cool stone counter.
Then he paused. “Do I need—?”
“No.” I shook my head. “Not for my sake. What about you?”
“Haven’t done anything unprotected and I was tested recently.”
Truth be told, I kind of wanted to slap him for breaking our unspoken yearlong no-sex ban. Just because he hadn’t known of its existence was no excuse. In all honesty, I felt a little feral right then. A bit violent. Only he made me crazy like this.
A small smile curled his lips at the expression on my face.
“Shut up,” I snapped.
“Let me make it up to you.”
Strong hands gripped my ankles, lifting and parting them, a move necessitating that my back hit the stone surface. But I didn’t protest because I wasn’t an idiot. Instead, excitement had my pulse racing, my ribcage tightening. He bussed the insides of my thighs, stubble tickling and scraping against sensitive skin. I didn’t know where all of the oxygen in the room had gone. Somewhere important, I hoped. To someone who needed it.
Adam licked and nipped and teased a trail from my knee to where my leg met my body. I both loved and hated how he took his time, making me squirm bare-ass-naked all over, eager-like against the hard surface.
When he finally, at long last, blew a fine stream of air across my wet pussy, I just about came right there and then. His hands wrapped around my thighs, holding me open to his gaze. “Fuck, I missed you.”
“Or a certain part of me.”
“All of you,” he insisted, getting closer but still not getting the job done.
“Adam. Stop messing around.”
“So damn impatient.”
I shoved my fingers into his hair, holding him down. His answering laughter was all things low and wicked. Sinful and hot and…shit. As the pads of his thumbs held my labia open, he dragged his tongue through the length of me. My hips shot off the counter, grinding against his face. And the man went to town, eating me just how I liked. Lucky this was a hard countertop, because at this rate, some cleanup would be required I was so wet.
