by Tabatha Kiss
I take the object from his hand and swallow hard. It’s a room keycard.
“I’m afraid Mr. Botsford is going to be running late but he wanted you to make yourself... comfortable. In his suite,” Rian adds, the fake British accent wavering as he tries to control his chuckle.
I palm the card with a smile. “It’s not what it looks like,” I claim.
He nods, unconvinced.
“We’re just working together. On a song. We’re writing a song.”
“It’s none of my business, madam,” he says. “I’m merely a messenger.”
“Seriously, though, we’re not...” I shake my head. I wave my hands. I lie through my fucking teeth. “Not.”
Rian doesn’t say another word. He straightens his navy blue blazer and spins around on his heels, taking long, purposeful glides back behind the front desk.
I release a heavy sigh and bolt toward the elevators before the flames in my cheeks light my jacket on fire. I step onto a car with a half-dozen other people and all twelve eyes lock on me the second I hit 25 on the wall. The wheels spin in their heads as I turn around but of course I can still see their inquisitive faces through the reflective, golden glass.
They depart one-by-one and I release my second heavy sigh in five minutes the moment I’m alone on the elevator.
Room 2508. I’ve been there before. Jonah and I have spent many platonic hours alone together in there. There’s no reason why we can’t do that again today. Last night doesn’t have to interfere with the work we’re here to do.
Right?
My lips twitch. I lick them slowly as my memory flashes back fifteen hours.
I need you.
I squeeze my thighs together as a flurry of heat rushes between them.
It looks good. Sounds good. Tastes good.
I bite my tongue to stop it from licking my lips again.
The doors slide open on the 25th floor but I don’t move. I stare out into the empty hallway, forcing a breath in and out of my lungs but it just stokes the fire building in my—
The doors begin to slide closed and I jut an arm out to stop them.
I’m nervous, not stupid.
There’s no way I’m going to run away now.
I step off and take a left down the hall toward Jonah’s room. The electronic lock flips from red to green as I swipe the card. I pause in the doorway, wondering if I should hang the DO NOT DISTURB sign, or would that be too presumptuous? Would I be assuming that I’m here for more than just music?
I leave the sign off.
The room is completely spotless with nothing out of place, so room service has clearly been through since Jonah left for band practice. I open the closet by the door to find a place to hang my jacket. After that, I pause to check my outfit in the mirror. It’s my usual t-shirt and jeans… but should I have done something more? Or is it better to play this casual?
I catch sight of something odd on the white bedspread and I turn around to investigate it a little closer.
A grouping of pillow chocolates rests on the pillow, shaped like a big heart.
I bite my cheek. Of course I’ve heard the whispers from the housekeeping girls about them and the Botsford boys. I mostly chalked them up to rumors, though the ones about Hayden were more than a little believable.
I step away from the bed and wander toward the windows. Even in daylight, the view is something to behold. I stand still for several minutes, trying to imagine what it’d be like to wake up to this every morning instead of my neighbor’s old, rusted swing set that hasn’t been touched in decades.
I sit down at the writing desk and sift through my backpack for my textbook. Jonah did say to make myself comfortable but I’m not sure how I feel about snooping through his things.
I pull out my book, along with his navy blue beanie. I set them both on the desk and my attention instantly gravitates to the hat. I think about the way he casually slid it off and ran his fingers through his hair and the way his free bangs teased his eyebrows as he looked over at me, his eyes gently falling to my lips while he licked his own.
I pick up the hat and test out the elastic before pulling it over my head. It cradles my scalp with instant warmth and I wonder how Jonah can stand to wear this thing as often as he does out in the desert heat. The comfort settles in, not too tight and not too loose. Another few minutes and I might not even notice it’s on my head at all.
A keycard slides through the lock and I twist in my chair as the door opens. Jonah pushes it wider to get his guitar case through without bumping the doorframe and shuffles in with his head down. As soon as the door closes, he lets out a thick sigh, lowers the guitar to the floor, and shucks his jacket off. He doesn’t bother hanging it. He drops it to the floor on the path to his bed, fumbling his shoes off as he moves, and finally plummets onto the bed as soon as it’s within falling distance.
I chuckle quietly. “You okay, Jonah?” I ask.
He doesn’t move. “Hrnn.”
“You tired?”
“Uh-hrrnn.”
“Did practice go okay?”
Jonah sloppily rolls over onto his back. “Yeah,” he answers. “I think so.”
I stand up and take a few steps closer to him. “You know, if you need to get some sleep, we can reschedule this. I don’t mind.”
He raises his head an inch and opens his eyes, instantly focusing on me standing over him. He shakes his head once as the corners of his mouth start to dig in. “No,” he says.
“Okay, well...” I glance toward the mini fridge. “Do you want some caffeine or something?”
“Hat.”
“What?”
He extends a hand. “My hat.”
I slap a hand on my forehead, feeling the oh-so-comfortable edge of his beanie. “Oh!” I say as I pull it off. “I’m sorry. I was just... holding onto it for you.”
“I’ve felt naked without it all day,” he says.
He snaps his fingers twice and I take another quick step forward and hold it out to him. His hand extends past my own and his fingers curl around my wrist instead. I lurch forward, taken by one firm yank, and I find myself helplessly standing between his knees.
Jonah sits up and releases my wrist in favor of resting his hands on my hips in front of him. “If you don’t mind,” he says, his gesturing eyes on the hat still clenched in my hand.
I swallow hard. “You... want me to...”
“Yes, please.”
I hold the hat in both hands, hoping the shaking isn’t so obvious as I turn it around toward his scalp. “Okay, hold still...” I say as I push it on.
It settles just above the base of his neck and I try to make it look right. I obscure the spikes of his bangs beneath the rim. I flip his ears out so they aren’t uncomfortably pressed against his head. I try to focus on other pieces of him, anything other than those big eyes because I don’t know what I’ll do if I fall into them. Will they swallow me whole, never to be seen again? I kinda hope so.
Once it looks good, I nod and Jonah smiles.
“That’s better,” he whispers.
I try to breathe but his soft touch on my sides feels like a corset against my lungs. I stand still, quickly running out of other places to stare at. The dimples on his chin. A speck of fluff on the beanie. The shadow of hair coming through his cheek...
“Marla,” he says.
I look at his lips, which feels as much of a mistake as his eyes, possibly moreso. “Hmm?” I hum.
He smiles. “What are you thinking about?”
“Oh, I was just...” I hesitate. “Nothing.”
“Nothing?”
I nod. “Whole lotta nothing.”
“Well, I was thinking about last night,” he says. “Can we talk about it?”
“Yeah,” I say. “If... if you want.”
Jonah turns his head down slightly, his face a mere inch from my belly. He keeps his hands on my hips and doesn’t move them as he says, “It was a mistake.”
I inhale to say s
omething but no words come out. I swallow the urge around the lump in my throat and wait for him to say more.
“What we have is important to me,” he says.
“Me, too,” I say, finding my voice.
“So, I think, that we should set some boundaries if we’re going to continue working together.”
I nod, no matter how much it hurts. “I agree.”
Jonah looks up and I fall right into his bright eyes. Damn the boundaries, I want to say. Touch me like you did last night.
Dammit, why don’t I just say that?
Why do I feel like I can’t?
“No,” I say, surprising myself.
He squints. “No?”
I take a step back and his hands slip off my waist. “No, I don’t agree. I disagree, actually.”
His head tilts. “You do?”
“Well, kind of,” I say. “What we have is important to me. Writing this song is — easily — one of the greatest things that’s ever happened to me... but so was last night. And I don’t think it’s quite fair of you to say that I can have one part of you but not the other.”
Jonah stands. “I didn’t say that.”
“You kissed me, remember? I didn’t cross that line. You did.”
“I did.”
“So, then what happened between now and last night? Did you sleep on it and realize I don’t fit into your standards?”
“What?” He shakes his head. “No. Of course not.”
“Why did you want me then but not now?”
“You’ve got it wrong, Marla,” he says. “I don’t want you less than before. I want you more but I know that if I let it, it’ll consume me. You’ll consume me and I’m not a strong enough man to stop it.”
I look down, far too embarrassed to meet his eyes again. “Oh, well... when you put it like that...”
Jonah steps forward and closes the gap I made between us. “When I say that I think we should set boundaries, I didn’t mean that you only get one part of me. I want you to have all of me, Marla. But this...” he touches my cheek and his thumb grazes my bottom lip, “and that...” he turns his head toward the guitar by the door, “they can’t mix.”
I take a deep breath, trying not to focus on his thumb still lingering by my mouth. “Okay, so you mean like a schedule.”
He nods. “Right.”
“When we’re working on the song, we won’t... work on each other.”
“Right,” he says with a chuckle.
“I think we can handle that,” I say, nodding.
“Me, too.”
“Should be easy enough to...” His thumb tip gently parts my lips and I struggle to breathe. “Where are we right now? Music or the other thing?”
He licks his lips. “I figure like... an hour of one and then we’ll take a break and do the other.”
“That doesn’t really answer my question.”
Jonah kisses me with the same fiery intensity as last night. My spine stiffens as my ankles sway and he curls an arm around my back to pull me against him. “Does that?” he asks, clearly knowing the answer.
I nod. “More or less.”
He spins us around and I once again feel the edge of a mattress along the back of my legs as Jonah guides me down onto it. Our lips dance, his purposefully spreading mine apart to make room for his tongue. I let it in, my toes curling in my shoes with every wet touch.
My head touches something hard and small on the pillow and I turn to find those chocolates slipping out of their heart formation.
“Hey...” I point at them. “About this?”
Jonah rolls his eyes. “Yeah, they do that sometimes.”
“So, it wasn’t like... from someone specific?”
“Carly, probably,” he says with a nod.
“Oh. Carly. Her.” I hesitate as he attacks my neck with hard, open mouth kisses. “Have you two...?”
Jonah stops and raises his head. “Have I ever slept with Carly?” he asks, easily reading my mind. “No.”
“No?”
“Absolutely not.”
I nod. “Cool. That’s...” I press my lips together. “Good to know.”
“I make it rule not to mess around with the staff,” he says, furrowing his brow. “It’s a little too... Hayden for my tastes.”
I chuckle. “Well, it’s a good thing I quit, then...”
He smiles as he leans back in. “A very, very good thing.”
And just like that, we pick up right where we left off the night before. Me, with legs parted and my hands on his waist. Him, towering over me with thick forearms and a stiff...
I roll my hip against him to confirm it and he lets out a soft groan.
Yup. That, too...
Jonah straightens his knees and lies closer to me, pressing his body against mine. We grind together just like before, learning what feels good and tasting each other’s sounds as they escape our throats. He dips his head to kiss my neck while his hand travels the length of my side. He doesn’t hesitate to touch my breast this time and my nipples tighten for more of that gentle teasing.
His hand slips beneath my shirt and I nearly gasp. Every moment beyond this is uncharted territory but, unlike last night, there’s no one to stop us here. I don’t have to worry about my mother barging in and stopping us cold. There’s little chance of anyone in the hotel coming to knock either. We’re really alone here.
There’s nothing to stop us from...
I lay my hand over his to stop it. “Jonah,” I whisper, easing it down.
He pushes up on his arms to put a little space between us. “What’s wrong?” he asks.
“Nothing,” I say, catching my breath. “Nothing’s wrong, but... I’m a... well, you know...”
He shifts back a little more. “Yeah, I know.”
“It’s not that I don’t want to, with you, but I don’t think I’m ready for... it yet.”
Jonah smiles, breaking some of the tension in my gut. “That’s fine,” he says.
I wince. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. It’s actually kind of nice. There’s no rush to the finish. We can just... take our time.”
“You don’t mind?”
“No,” he whispers as he leans in and kisses my cheek. “It’s more fun this way.”
I raise a curious brow. “It is?”
“Yeah...” His smirk rises up his face before he kisses me full on the mouth. “I get to tease you so... very... slowly.”
I shudder as he rests his hand on my side again. His fingertips slide along the bottom of my shirt but he doesn’t reach beneath it. I look down and watch as he touches my skin; just barely an inch of it along the button of my jeans.
“Is this okay?” he whispers.
I nod. “Uh-huh.”
He passes the button once, twice, and again as he gives me a few firm, playful kisses. “You can touch me,” he says. “I don’t mind.”
My fingers jolt at the idea of touching him as he’s touching me. To be able to feel his chest and the hard lines of his abs without a cotton barrier makes me think my core may explode.
“Where?” I ask, too scared to move.
We kiss again and he laughs.
“Anywhere,” he answers.
Oh, my god.
I tremble beneath him, the thought once again sending fire to the depths of me. My hand moves with agency, slinking ever so slowly from his arm to reach between us. Jonah takes his hand off me and uses it to hold himself up and give me all the space I need to explore.
I do as he did, first touching his abs over his shirt and shifting my fingertips down to his belt. I touch skin-to-skin, letting my fingers softly contact his abs above his jeans button and I feel the thick, curling hairs of a happy trail below his navel.
Jonah lets out a quivering breath that rattles his abs and I pull my hand back.
“What?” I ask.
“Nothing,” he says. “You just came close to...”
I look down and I startle at the bulge obviously tu
cked up toward his waistband, so close to where my fingers were. “Oh!” I cover my mouth as I laugh. “Sorry...”
He kisses my forehead. “I didn’t want to accidentally go too far.”
I bite my lip as my eyes stray to his belt again. He said anywhere, right?
I move my hand downward, fingertips gliding along the outline of his hard erection.
Jonah flexes again, his breath warm against my cheek. “Careful now...”
I pull my hand back again. “Sorry.”
“Oh, you can keep your hand on it,” he says, chuckling, “but if I say stop, please do. These jeans are expensive.”
I laugh as he kisses me again. This is so surreal. The very idea that Jonah Botsford is here with me now is enough to make me question reality altogether. Add in the thought of him having an orgasm because of something I did is beyond psychedelics.
His body grinds against mine again, triggering a rush of heat between my thighs. I let out a soft moan as Jonah crushes his mouth on mine, stealing the breath from my lungs and sending me through a light-headed euphoric wave.
In the dizzy spell, I reach between us and easily find his prominent bulge again. Jonah instantly groans but his lips never leave mine as he purposefully grinds into my palm.
“Fuck,” he whispers.
A tug on my jeans. I look down to see his fingers pinching my zipper with the top button wide open.
“Shit—” He pauses to breathe. “This is harder than I thought it’d be.”
We stop, limbs and hands still entwined. “Maybe we should take a break,” I suggest. “Give... things a chance to calm down.”
Jonah nods. “Good idea.”
I lower my legs and he slides off me onto his side. He keeps one arm around me and he pulls me closer until I’m spooned against his chest, that erection still very present on my lower back.
We clasp fingers. He nuzzles my neck and smells my hair. I stop breathing as my pulse pounds in my ears.
“This okay?” he asks.
I nod. “Yeah. This is... nice.”
He kisses my shoulder once more before resting his head down. “Nice,” he repeats in agreement.
After a minute, I clear my throat. “Hey, Jonah?” I say.
He hums in acknowledgment, obviously too comfortable to speak aloud.
“Did you mean what you said last night?” I ask slowly. “That stuff about you... quitting the band?”
