by JN Welsh
Someone reached for her and she recognized Tommy’s beautiful and strong hand. After all, it had been all over and inside her body ’til the early hours of the morning.
“Ease up, guys. Let her through. You want a piece of her? You gotta go through me first.” He made space for her and pulled her through the last aisle of people and fans. “I got you,” he said, and draped a protective arm around her waist. He took her to a corner of the deck.
“You okay?” he asked.
“That was eventful.” Still winded from her performance and the adrenaline pumping through her with the onslaught of bodies she’d just made her way through, she gasped to catch her breath.
“A bit understated but I’ll take it.” He rubbed her shoulders. “That set, though... I’ve seen you at Rebel, but this? It’ll go down as one of the most savage performances of the cruise, if not in Oh Ship history.”
“That good, huh?” She’d slayed the stage but kept the praise in perspective. “The pool deck definitely felt like the turn up spot.”
“Woman, you brought the house...ship down, and had everyone eating out of your hands.” He shook his head at her.
“Thanks.”
“How do you feel?” he asked.
“I feel good. Plugged in.” Thirsty and dehydrated, she licked her lips. “I could use a drink, though. I think I splashed my water on the crowd.”
He stared at her mouth long enough for her to notice. “I, uh, fuck, I want to kiss you.”
“I know.” She briefly inspected the laces on her sneakers. “You do this thing with your tongue just before you kiss me.”
“What thing?” he asked, and she ran her tongue along the middle of her upper lip and his focus on her mouth intensified. He straightened as if returning to the present moment. She wanted to learn every dirty thought that ran through his head. She blamed her lustful state on post-performance adrenaline but then again...last night and this morning.
“I had to get you out of that crowd. I didn’t expect backstage to get at you like that. Even professionals can be fans.” He changed the subject without any transition, and she wondered if he pulled back because he was on the job or maybe the realization of what happened between them came with some regret. She could relate. She gave her emotions a quick smack down and did her best to keep their interaction business casual.
“It’s cool.” She shrugged but deep down the reality started to break through. In the heat of the moment she’d wowed the crowd and set her demand on fire. Maybe things would cool off. After all, she’d played the day party on the pool deck. With all the other big names on the ship, she’d likely be a passing blip on the ship’s echo sounder.
“Well, Queen. Allow me to serve you with all the libations you require.” He placed his hand over his heart as if pledging to provide her with a plethora of liquids to hydrate with. He followed his verbal promise with an offered arm. “May I?”
“You may.” She hooked her arm with his. A calmer flow of interested enthusiasts approached them, and Tommy expertly handled the mayhem, which was gold. She didn’t bring up last night again, but given that they shared a stateroom, there would soon be no place for either of them to hide.
Chapter Nineteen
After Nyah’s performance Tommy kept her busy with introductions and conversations about her next engagements. He’d single-handedly advertised for Artistique, sure-ing up the likelihood of seeing familiar faces at the small festival.
He could easily conduct the additional meetings when he got back to LA, but he wanted to strike while the iron seared white hot. He choreographed it all to avoid being alone with Nyah for fear he’d consume her whole. However, there remained a cold front coming from her. He’d address it as soon as they were alone.
“I hear Pete Monroe’s daughter is going to be playing there,” someone said and Tommy’s senses dinged like a warning button.
“Oh, word?” Tommy raised his brows so high with feigned curiosity that his muscles twitched. He glanced at Nyah, who went rigid and via their voiceless communication questioned if they knew who she was.
“Yeah. Some classical shit. That’s a hard pass for me,” a spiky-haired DJ announced. “Yo, did you guys hear they are honoring Pete at Sunburst this year? Sucks that he didn’t have a kid to pass down all that genius to. I’d gladly apprentice.”
Tommy gaped at the guy who didn’t even realize he’d been listening to classical instruments the whole time Queen Roe played. The corner of her lip twitched and even if she’d never admit it, that lame ass’s comment had to prick her, even if only a little.
“Yeah, I heard that, too.” Nyah joined in the conversation. “That’s going to be epic.”
Tommy bit his tongue when it got all twisted with what to say to her statement. Nyah’s amusement with this muted version of him didn’t help.
“For sure. I can’t wait. Tommy, any of your people up for Sunburst?” someone asked.
Fuck! “Nah, man. Not this year. My clients are either too big or not interested but I’ll be there.”
“Cool.”
Tommy had at least managed to inhibit further investigation.
“Well, guys, I think I’m going to call it.” Nyah finally tapped out.
“No way. Come on, Queen?” a blond-headed DJ begged, her ponytail swinging as she spoke. “Don’t leave me with these bums.”
“We have to book it to the airport when the ship docks in the morning and I have quite a bit to pack,” she said. “Not to mention you guys have been plying me with drinks.”
“Don’t you want dinner?” Rize asked.
“I’m going to order a shit ton of room service is what I’m going to do and devour that shit in private.” She rose to her feet.
Everyone laughed. Her personality and ability to win over, well, everyone so far, made him even prouder to know her.
“I have to stop by reception, maybe I’ll meet up with you guys later. If not, I’ll see you at the next one.” Tommy rose with her. “I’ll come with you.”
Once they were well out of view, he heard Nyah breathe for the first time. “That was fucking close.”
“They had no idea,” he assured her.
“You sure about that?” she asked with raised brow in her tone.
“Pretty sure. You would have been grilled much longer if they had.”
She seemed okay with his explanation, yet fixed a frown on her face.
“Nyah, about earlier—”
“What about earlier?” she snapped.
His meeting running over and checking things out earlier were all truthful reasons he’d loaded in the chamber to shoot at her but that she didn’t even look at him meant he had little room for error. “I should have been at your set with enough time to take care of you. I fucked up.”
“Yeah, you fucked up.” She pursed her lips.
He reached for her hand and slowed down to a stop. He faced her. “It’s my job to be there for you, at all costs. I’m sorry.”
She kept a hard façade.
“Forgiven?” he asked, giving her arm a shake.
“This time. Don’t let it happen again.” She poked his chest.
Glad to be forgiven, he continued to walk with her.
They passed reception and Nyah stopped. “Okay, I’ll see you later.”
“Huh?”
She pointed. “Reception’s that way.”
“Oh. That was bullshit. I’m ready to be shipwrecked. I’ll head back with you.”
“Cool.” She shrugged.
When they arrived at their stateroom, Nyah opened the door to her suite’s side and he hung in the entryway. She didn’t speak to his awkward move and parked her rear on the arm of the couch, giving him a thorough low-lid study.
He finally spoke. “You’re giving me that look again.”
“What look?” she responde
d coyly.
“The kind that makes it hard for me to walk away,” he said. She knew exactly how to make him hornier than an ungelded stallion sniffing out a mare in heat.
She sauntered toward his figure by the door. “Then why don’t you come in, take your clothes off and show me why they really call you Boombox.”
He sucked in a sharp breath. His dick jumped at her words, making his slacks two sizes too small as he hardened behind the material.
“I’ve never met anyone like you.” The words dribbled out.
Her fingers curved around his tie and she slipped the length through her hand. His mind flashbacked to her performing the same motion around his cock. “What do you mean?” she asked, tugging on his tie.
“You know what you want, and you go for it, unapologetically, unfiltered. But more importantly you know what you don’t want. You’re not afraid to say no, or rock the boat. That makes you—”
“Annoying?” she asked.
“Powerful. More powerful than you realize.”
She folded her arms over her chest and studied them before returning her gaze to his. “I don’t think most people would agree.”
“If you haven’t already noticed, I’m not most people. Don’t make yourself small because someone can’t match up. Make them rise to you.”
“Including you?” She tugged on his tie.
“Especially me.”
She tugged again on his tie and lifted to her toes.
He stared into her passionate and trusting brown eyes and his earlier words about Sunburst echoed in his head. My clients are either too big or not interested but I’ll be there. Without her knowledge, he groomed Nyah specifically for that purpose, and the closeness they shared made him feel guilty enough to pull away. Even as his cells, down to the atom, screamed for her embrace, he slipped his tie from her fingers and her seduction-infused features were wiped clean.
“I should go. You need a good night’s rest for tomorrow. I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Hey.” He heard her gulp. “Did I say something wrong? I was teasing... You know, flirting. I thought we were on the same page.”
He mustered a smile. “You neither said nor did anything wrong. It’s been a long day and I think I’m gonna crash. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“No... I mean, of course.” She tried to appear unaffected but he disappointed her. Again. His dick slapped him around for denying it her pussy, but he had more to protect than his urges.
He ducked into his suite’s entrance as quickly as his fingers would let him. Once inside he breathed a hefty sigh and ran his fingers through his hair, pacing the gold trellis designed navy blue carpet. He froze when Nyah’s figure stood in the frame of the open door that led into her suite. Her eyes clouded with confusion and dismay. Her head hung as she gently closed the door, and the sound of the lock followed.
Fuck.
* * *
Nyah rinsed the disappointment down the drain along with the soap and conditioner. The activity on the cruise had been nonstop with music, socializing and networking, and her only desire was to snuggle into bed and be with her feelings. She toweled off, tended to her wet hair and slipped on a night shirt that she could easily smoosh into her luggage in the morning along with her toiletry bag.
Damn Sexy, the front of her red nightshirt read. “Damn right,” she affirmed. She needed the boost and who better to give it to her than herself?
Her body, however, needed Tommy more than she wanted to document. After witnessing him in his suite, she felt like a toy he’d gotten tired of playing with. She’d deliberately avoided crowding him. Hell, she hadn’t even asked him to talk again, even though it had been on the tip of her tongue most of the day. She silently thanked her classical training for discipline.
They’d been building up to this since she sat with him at Rebel. On rare occasions she misread a sexual invitation. Certain she hadn’t misinterpreted Tommy’s desire for her, she racked her brain. What went wrong? What did I say? What didn’t I say?
“Stop!” she shouted. “Check your fucking ego, bitch. Not everything is about you. It’s not your fault.”
She and Tommy had spent some time together since reconnecting at Rebel, but Tommy proved to be more of a mystery than she’d originally understood. She went through the list of potential reasons. Maybe he was worried she was getting the wrong idea about their time together and thought she wanted something long term. Maybe he didn’t date clients, or maybe there was another woman? Maybe she was the other woman.
None of them hit red on the truth meter. They’d chatted and he neither alluded to nor had a slip of the tongue regarding any of those things. Surely, Oscar would have clued her in when they’d chatted. Back when she met Tommy at her father’s party, she couldn’t retrieve anything from that time either.
Her self-confidence deflated like a punctured bicycle tire. She sighed. “Maybe he just doesn’t want me.” That’s bullshit. Tommy wanted her as much as she wanted him. “So, what’s the fucking problem?” She didn’t know but if her pussy could talk it would urge her to make haste and figure it out, because it was open and ready to welcome Tommy.
A knock on the door adjoining their suites sounded.
“Yeah?” Nyah asked.
“Can I come in?”
“No.” She regretted the decision as soon as it left her tongue.
He sighed and something hit the door. She hoped it was his head hanging in disgrace. “That was a dick move, angel.”
“Glad we agree.” She crossed her arms.
He tried the door again. “Will you let me in so I can apologize to you?”
“You don’t need to see me to apologize. Think of it as The Voice for jerks. I’ll hear if you’re genuine or not.”
“You’re a tough lady.”
“If you’re just figuring that out, then you’re not the crunchiest chip in the bag. That’s disappointing.”
“Nyah.”
“Tommy,” she mimicked.
His sigh echoed against the wood door.
“I had a great time with you last night. All day, I wanted to touch you and taste you again and feel you come under me. But I’d be irresponsible if I didn’t consider how this could affect our working relationship. It’s not the best idea and I think you know that,” he said.
She leaned her head back on the wall next to the door and stared at the ceiling. Her thoughts were filled with Tommy and how good he made her feel for the early part of the day. Later on, with him doing his agent-y shit, she’d started to question whether or not they’d made a wrong move giving into their attraction. She didn’t believe that Tommy would screw her like Carlo or else she had no business having him as her agent, but if he did, would she be able to let him go? If he realized that she wasn’t the kind of artist he wanted to continue to work with, how would she feel? Even though their situation was supposed to be temporary, what if she wanted a long-term work relationship with him? Tommy had more than grown on her and she wanted more. Of what, she wasn’t yet sure.
“Talk to me, angel.”
She wanted to make him wait it out a bit more, but his statement resonated with what she’d been feeling. His chilly response to her invitation, however, had done little to cool her down and she still craved for whatever closeness she could get. Her fingers turned the knob and opened the partition between them. She leaned against the door as it clattered against the wall, the sound of wood meeting wood reverberated against her back.
“You have a point, Tommy, but what happened between us last night is not something that can be easily put back into a box.”
“I released the kraken,” he teased.
“Literally.” She homed in on his dick, surprised to see a larger bump than before. “You don’t actually call it that to people in real life, do you?”
“No.” He snorted.
“Good choice.”
“It’s not easy to walk away from you. This has been...different from what I thought it would be. I’m not used to being in this position.” His admission hit the soft spot in her chest.
“What do you mean by that?” she asked. When his cheeks rouged all the way to his hairline, her eyes widened. She grabbed his hand when she feared he’d flee. “Tell me what you mean, Tommy.”
“This was supposed to be casual, right?”
“Boat boning buddies,” she said.
“Is that what you call me?” He half frowned, half smiled.
“Uhh.” She pursed her lips and forced herself not to joke her way out of this conversation. She cared about what he felt and what he thought and she didn’t want to miss an opportunity to know how he saw her. How he saw this. “Never mind that. Finish what you were saying.”
He sighed. “I’m hard pressed to think that boat boning buddies won’t be enough,” he mumbled. “Are you surprised?”
“What makes you say that?” she asked, her defenses up.
“Because those gorgeous eyes are about ready to pop out of your head.”
“Oh.” She closed her eyes for a second and tried to soften her features. “It’s just that dudes are normally the ones with commitment issues. I mean, am I even your type? What’s your type?”
“Independent, knows what she wants and goes after it, powerful...women I find to be sexy as fuck.” He appraised her up and down as he spoke.
“I’m your type.”
“Clearly,” he responded, but she couldn’t help but get the sense that he held back additional attributes. The bad ones.
“What else?” she asked.
He took off his glasses to clean them, which he did when he was either bored or avoiding something.
