Raw Need

by Cherrie Lynn

  “You look incredible,” he said gently. She glanced back to see him slowly walking toward her, hands back in his pockets. “You’re glowing.”

  “Glowing?” That was hard to believe.

  “You are.” Then he was there, so close, face-to-face with her, and she had to look up at him. Her knees felt weak; her lips tingled. Any closer, and her bulging belly would bump into his flat stomach. “I’ve missed you.”

  God, he made this so hard for her, made her want to admit truths she shouldn’t. That she’d missed him too, terribly, when missing him was so wrong. Suddenly, horribly, she feared she’d made a gigantic mistake coming to him, but it was entirely too late now.

  Zane searched her eyes, his own darkening. “Nothing is going to happen that you don’t want,” he said. “I don’t have expectations. I have desires, I’m not gonna lie. But no expectations. I only want you to have a good time. Okay?”

  How did he keep doing that? Knowing all the fears she couldn’t give voice to? “I appreciate you saying that,” she said. Up close, his eyes weren’t quite as dark as she’d thought. Here in the ample light from the windows, stripes of amber pinwheeled out from his pupils. Beautiful, hypnotic eyes, the kind she could fall into, lose herself and find herself again, fringed with dark lashes so long she was almost jealous.

  Her heart beat erratically against her rib cage, and the baby began doing somersaults. The movement was so strong that she gasped, looking down and pressing a hand to the spot, and Zane snapped to immediate attention.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “She moved. I mean, I’ve been feeling her a lot, but never like that. Wow.”

  “That’s amazing,” he said, a grin spreading across his face. Rowan found herself returning it.

  “She must love your voice as much as I do.”

  “May I?” he asked, gesturing to her hands. Touched by his interest, she took his and placed it where the movement was strongest, but it had since settled down. He gazed into her eyes while they waited for the baby to kick up another fuss, but she didn’t. “Maybe I should sing to her sometime,” he suggested. Heaven save her from this man. “Or it could be that she wants me to shut the hell up.”

  Rowan laughed and reluctantly released his hand. She’d loved the feel of it on her. “I highly doubt that’s it.”

  “You never did say what you want to do about dinner. Any ideas?”

  “If it’s really all right with you, I think I might like to stay in.”

  “Room service it is,” he pronounced. “Or we can send Jase out for whatever we want. Are you hungry now, or do you want to wait?”

  “We can wait. I just want to relax. And we can do room service, since I would hate to bother Jase.”

  “I live to bother Jase. Jase lives to be bothered.”

  She couldn’t fathom having someone at her beck and call like that. But it would damn sure be nice. “How did you find him, anyway?”

  “Through Mike, actually. He has all the humongous-motherfucker hookups.”

  She laughed, walking over to the couch to get off her aching feet while Zane continued his story. “Once we met up, we hit if off so well it was like we’d always known each other. He’s like a second big brother, which can get annoying as hell sometimes, but I don’t know what I’d do without him.”

  “I’m glad you have him to keep you safe.”

  “And out of trouble.”

  “You mean you can’t do that all by yourself?”

  “Maybe, I don’t know. I’m glad I don’t have to try. I have a great support system.” He tugged his buzzing cell phone from his back pocket, then began typing a message. “See, already checking on us.”

  Finally, she was beginning to feel more at ease. Zane was in no way intimidating except for his star power and sheer charisma . . . and the depth of her feelings for him. She didn’t know why she kept forgetting how easy he was to talk to.

  A moment later, he excused himself to the bedroom to make a call, and Rowan pulled her own phone from her handbag, dreading to see what was waiting for her. There was no reason to worry yet, however; they probably wouldn’t have even realized she was gone unless Regina orchestrated one of her drop-ins. Even then, she wouldn’t sound the alarm until Rowan never came home.

  No urgent messages were waiting for her. Tomorrow, she thought. She would enjoy tonight, try to forget her problems, and let Savannah know where she was in the morning. She needed the break. They would understand.

  Or maybe they wouldn’t, but she found at that moment she didn’t much care.

  * * *

  He hadn’t realized just how badly he wanted her until he saw her in the airport.

  And now that she was here and his for the night, that need had increased a hundredfold. Jesus. How he was going to sleep if she truly opted to use the other bedroom, he hadn’t figured out yet. But sleep had never come easily anyway, at least not at night. So he supposed he would lie awake and suffer.

  Zane knew, or at least tried to tell himself, that he had to at least consider the possibility he only wanted her because she was unavailable. She was a challenge for him, when the rest of the world was willing to kneel at his feet. But at the same time, he knew that wasn’t it. He enjoyed being with her so much, anticipating the next words that would come from her sweet lips, the next piece of insight into her wounded soul. He saw a reflection of himself in her, and he couldn’t shake that idea.

  He wanted to save her, but it wasn’t his job. It was hers. He’d told her as much.

  They made small talk over dinner, and he explained some of what she could expect tomorrow at the festival. A long, hot day, but she could spend as much of it as she wanted in the cool comfort of his bus . . . probably bored out of her mind. At least until showtime, when he would have them set up a chair for her side stage. The way her eyes lit up with excitement was worth every minute of the agony he was in over her.

  When she suddenly looked down and pinched her forearm hard, he burst out laughing. “You think you’re dreaming, huh?”

  “I do! I totally do. This is incredible.”

  “You’re also welcome to watch any of the other bands you want. You’ll have an all-access pass. We’ll check out any of them you want to see, or Jase can go with you. I’ll have some press to do here and there, radio interviews and stuff. I think they have us signing autographs at some point too, but half this shit they don’t tell us about until we get there.”

  “I checked the lineup. I don’t really care about any of the others. You guys are the headliners of my heart.”

  He put a hand over his own. “Aww. Shucks.”

  “I really don’t know how to thank you for this.”

  “Your excitement right now is thanks enough. More than enough.”

  Now she blushed, a wash of color spreading in her cheeks that made his balls tighten in his jeans. She picked up another forkful of pasta; he watched her lips close around it and imagined them closing around him. When she caught him watching, that color only heightened, spreading down her throat and to her ears. He tore his gaze away, cast it downward, trying to hold it together.

  Women ordinarily didn’t affect him like this. He wanted them; he took them. Years back, it had only been a matter of picking them out of the audience, something he wasn’t too proud of. But they came readily, even trading relationships for one night with a guy they probably wouldn’t have looked at twice if he hadn’t had a microphone in his hand. Back then, it hadn’t bothered him, and if a girl had rejected him, well, there were a thousand more eager to take her place.

  Hell, he might have felt that way up until two months ago. Now this woman sat in front of him, wary, guarded, broken, and he was ready to grovel at her goddamned feet if need be. It was a new position for him, and while he couldn’t say he liked it, he was nowhere near ready to give up on her.

  She was here, so he was making headway.

  Finally, she sat back in her chair with a satisfied sigh. “I can’t eat another bite.” He frowne
d at the plateful she still had left, and she chuckled when she noticed. “I know, right? It’s like lately I’m always starving, but the baby is taking up stomach room, so I can’t eat very much at a time. At eleven o’clock tonight, I’ll probably be in here finishing it. Don’t be alarmed.”

  He took a sip of his water. “I won’t be.”

  “Good to know. It could get ugly.”

  Nothing about her could ever be ugly. “If there’s anything you like to have around, snack or drink-wise, make a list and I’ll be sure we get it.”

  “Wow,” she said, resting a hand on her cute round belly. “I could get used to this.”

  Yeah. It was easy to fall into the trap. When you could have anything you wanted, sometimes you took it, even when it was something you didn’t need. It could very well be the something that would destroy you, if you weren’t careful. For a moment, he was almost sorry he’d brought her into this world, that he was about to expose her to how ugly it could be . . . the dark underbelly that the fans could never see. But if there ever came a time when they might be able to make something of this, at least she would go in with full disclosure. Knowing exactly what his life entailed.

  “I hope you don’t mind,” she said after a few quiet moments ticked past. “But I’m really tired. I was thinking I might go to bed.”

  He’d hoped to spend more time with her tonight, but they had several days ahead for that. “Sure,” he said, wiping his mouth with a napkin and getting to his feet to help her to hers. She didn’t need it, but everything about her smallness and vulnerability, especially coupled with her pregnancy, spurred his protective instincts. “Are you feeling okay?”

  “Oh, fine. It’s normal.”

  “Get all the rest you want. If you need anything, let me know. Don’t hesitate.”

  To his surprise, she stepped forward and put her arms around him—as best she could with her protruding stomach—and laid her head on his chest. The breath rushed out of him, and he squeezed her to him.

  “Thank you,” she whispered. He dropped his lips to the top of her head, breathing in her lilac scent, allowing the soft silkiness of her hair to slide through his fingers. She filled his head with images best not imagined, not while she was in his arms, clinging to him like a life preserver tossed into a turbulent sea. His heart thudded hard against his breastbone, against her cheek. Her fists clutched his shirt.

  “Not so fast. I think it might’ve been incredibly selfish bringing you here,” he murmured into her hair, closing his eyes.

  “Why?”

  Because this turbulent sea was shark-infested. He’d been navigating among them for years. Where she was concerned . . . he might be one of them. He wanted to eat her alive. An apex predator with a dove in his clutches.

  “Just be careful, Rowan.”

  She lifted her head and stared up at him with those big green eyes. “I’ll stay by you, like you said. I’ll be safe.”

  When she looked at him searchingly like that . . . yeah, she would be, if he had to chop off both fucking arms to keep from scooping her up and taking her to his bed. But then those eyes dropped to his lips, and Christ, he almost prayed she wasn’t thinking of kissing him. That night on her porch had nearly undone him. He wouldn’t be able to restrain himself from tasting her fully this time.

  She would have to make this call.

  And she was making it. Her hands slid up, her fingers cupping his neck, and she gently pulled him down to her, rising on her tiptoes to meet him.

  Unbelievable softness opened to him, and he didn’t have to make the decision to taste her; she was inviting him, pulling him in, drowning him. A shudder worked through his body, and she whimpered when she felt it, and again when his hands hardened on her, crushing her close, closer, as close as he could get her without invading her.

  Her shy tongue flickered in a sinuous rhythm with his and his dick throbbed excruciatingly against his fly. No doubt she felt that pressed to the underside of her belly, realizing with absolute certainty what she did to him. Yet she continued to tease at his lips, his tongue, her fingers tightening at the back of his neck, her breathing growing deep and ragged. He was ready to fucking combust. With every inhale she dragged in, her breasts swelled against him.

  This was the kiss he’d wanted that first night, but hadn’t dared take. And there was so much he didn’t dare take now. He clenched his fists, one strangling the delicate strands of her hair, the other clenching the flowy fabric of the shirt at her back, to keep them from roaming her body as they ached to do. She leaned so heavily into him that her knees must be growing weak.

  Nothing in the last ten years of his life had felt as real as this. She was a grounding force he had never expected to find.

  Shaking, panting, they separated at last, and he couldn’t be sure who pulled away first. Rowan’s eyes were heavy-lidded, her lips swollen and dark pink from the maddened pressure of his. He caught her face in his hands, committing it to memory, and her fingers closed around his wrists as she seemed to do the same in return.

  “You should . . . go on to bed,” he managed to rasp. Whatever smoldering lust was in her eyes, it was tempered with turmoil. He wouldn’t take what she wasn’t ready to give, no matter how badly he wanted it.

  “I don’t want to be alone,” she said, her voice small.

  “Honey, you’re not. I’m right across the suite.”

  “I know, but can’t I sleep with you?” She gave a tremulous smile. “I’ll stay on my side. You don’t even have to know I’m there.”

  This woman broke his fucking heart, the one he’d wondered if he still had anymore. Years of rejection and numbness had hardened it into a protective veneer, and she was putting cracks in the shell. Zane tried for a smile and hoped it didn’t come out as a grimace—because he would know she was there, within arm’s length, a temptation he didn’t think he could withstand. A line of fine white powder in front of him, sure, he could shrug it off. A bottle of whiskey, that was tougher, but he could turn his head. Rowan Dugas across the bed? He was already sweating for another taste of her. “Of course you can. But you go on. I was going to stay up and work on a few things, and then I’ll be in there.”

  Hopefully that would suffice for her, and she could get to sleep. He almost breathed a sigh of relief when she smiled. “Okay.”

  Gently, Zane drew her forward and pressed his lips to the center of her forehead. Her thumbs stroked his inner wrists, and then she stepped away. “I think Jase put my bags in the other bedroom.”

  “I’ll get them.”

  As he did so, he wondered how the fuck he was going to get through this.

  Chapter Nine

  Rowan’s eyes opened to a glow of sunlight around the heavy dark drapes. As usual, her bladder was screaming for attention. The bedroom was dim, but even so, she could see the figure lying on the other side of the bed, and the long black hair spread across the pillow.

  She must have gone out as soon as she hit the mattress last night not to know when he came to bed. She’d slept with a rock star and missed the whole thing.

  Smirking a little at the thought, she rolled from the bed, careful not to disturb him, and walked on the luxuriously thick carpet to the bathroom. It was only when she came back into the room after brushing her hair and teeth that she realized Zane was sleeping on top of the duvet.

  He wore dark pajama pants and no shirt, his heavily tattooed torso on full display, all lean muscle and sinewy strength lying dormant. Rowan slipped back into bed as lightly as she could, never taking her eyes from him. Even though his face was shadowed, she could tell he didn’t look at peace, as if his demons chased him through his dreams the same as they chased him through life. Whatever wars waged behind his closed eyes, they showed in the furrow of his brow and the hard set of his mouth. He would fight those battles on stage tonight in front of thousands of enraptured fans.

  Even though he was used to it, she was nervous for him. She wanted to scoot over and hold him, but that was silly. Z
ane had slain stages all over the world several times over; he didn’t need her comfort. He had this.

  Last night, if he hadn’t so skillfully dodged her, he probably could’ve had her. God, that kiss . . .

  Rowan had expected to toss and turn all night after having those particular fires lit, but last night had been the best sleep she’d had in months.

  She didn’t know how long she’d been lying there, alternately dozing and marveling that she was here beside him, when his eyes opened and, caught staring, Rowan buried her face in the covers. Zane chuckled sleepily and pulled them back. “I see you. Good morning.”

  “Morning,” she murmured, certain her face was flaming red.

  “Sleep well?”

  “Never better,” she admitted, finally meeting his eyes. “I actually feel sort of human.”

  “I slept pretty well myself, for once.” He rolled onto his back and gave a languorous stretch, making her think of a sleek, dark cat.

  “I didn’t even know when you came to bed,” she ventured, trying not to watch his muscles lengthen and contract, but unable to look away.

  “Must have been around three,” he said, relaxing and turning back onto his side to face her. “Just tweaking some projects.”

  “AoF stuff?”

  “No, my stuff.”

  “Oh,” she said, surprised. “Do you have a side project in the works?”

  “There are a lot of sounds in my head that wouldn’t really be appropriate for August. Gotta get ’em out somehow even if they never see the light of day.”

  The thought of feasting her ears on his private song files . . . she would be in heaven. Absolute and total bliss. “Is it like some of the music you suggested to me? Because that was totally different and nothing at all like I would expect.”

  “Some of it, maybe.”

  “Can I hear it?”

  He grinned. “I don’t know. Since no one else has ever heard it, I might be a little self-conscious.”