Rockin' the Heart (Hot Wired)

by Miller, Gracen

  “It’s killing me. I have got to ask.” The blonde youth peered between him and Sam. “You’re really dating?”

  Her friend had her fingers over her mouth like she trapped in a word-demon that threatened to rape and pillage one syllable at a time.

  Okay. Teens are weird. They were odd and, despite his less than advanced age, he had zero in common with them.

  Devilry flitted across Sam’s face. “Yeah. Dating and all the good stuff that goes with it.”

  Heath curled his arm around her shoulder and kissed the side of her head. “I got lucky.”

  “What’s it like?” The girl muffling her mouth asked after she peeled her fingers aside long enough to speak.

  I repeat, weird.

  Wrapping her arms around his waist, Sam leaned into him. “It’s a lot like others probably feel. It’s exciting.”

  Sum your relationship up in two words or less. And ‘exciting’ failed to express everything he experienced.

  After a few cell snapshots and penning his John Hancock, they made their way into the elevator. Tex stood in the corner observing them like a parent would horny teens. The floral strap of Sam’s bag hitched over his shoulder failed to mitigate his imposing posture.

  “Can I expect to see more performances like tonight in the future?”

  “Of course.” Sam nudged Tex. “You know Hot Wired always slays their concerts.”

  Tex gave her a playful punch on the shoulder, but his expression remained deadpan. “I’m talking about yours and Fang’s performance.”

  “Oh.” She shook her head and delivered Heath the evil eye. “I thought I’d puke. I forgot I promised to kill you for that.”

  “Forgive me?” Hands clasped in prayer-like fashion, he performed a pitiful interpretation at beseeching clemency.

  “You looked like a natural. Couldn’t tell you were nervous at all.” Tex grinned. “I heard fans talking about it afterward. They liked the interaction a lot.”

  “You did good, brat.”

  She scoffed. “You don’t deserve forgiveness. You’d do it again given the opportunity.” Hell, yes he would. “I don’t know how y’all get up in front of the audience like that without hurling.”

  She executed a gagging motion, and Tex chuckled. “I’m a wallflower too.”

  “Hardly!” Sam poked Tex on the arm. “You never go unnoticed, you big brute.”

  From the first day these two met, they were like kindred souls. “Your nerves didn’t show.”

  “Not again, Heath.”

  That sealed her future and guaranteed he’d drag her back on stage first chance he got. “No promises.”

  Heavy-lidded sapphire blues snagged on his lips. “Not. Again.”

  Her words materialized a touch husky, giving him insight to her thoughts. If not for Tex, he’d have put her against the wall and kissed her until she was breathless.

  The elevator dinged when they reached their floor, and she flinched at the noise, blinked at the red-lit numbers as if she’d forgotten where they were located. She’d always had a way of focusing on one thing to the point everything else around her faded. He liked being her single-minded concentration.

  “Is it sweltering in here or is it just me?” Tex vacated the elevator, and surveyed the area before motioning for them to join him.

  “I’m fine. Maybe you’re trying to come down with something.” Sam swiped her fingertips across the bodyguard’s forehead. “You feel cool.”

  No way Sam could be that naïve. Heath gave Tex a knowing smile. With a burly laugh that shook Tex’s shoulders, he took the keycard to the room Heath had reserved for the evening. “You’re too much, Sam.”

  She sent Heath a ‘huh’ expression he’d seen a billion times.

  As they followed Tex, Heath palmed the back of her neck and leaned toward her, placing his lips against her ear. “He was talking about being hot because you were eyeing me like candy you planned to devour the first moment you were alone.”

  “I wasn’t!” She kept her voice low, but not her appalled reaction.

  Tex opened the door, told them to wait just inside while he cleared the room.

  Sam fidgeted, refused eye contact, and tugged on her bottom lip with her teeth. Her jitteriness charmed him in ways that left him clueless. Even at her worst moments, Sam maintained her coolness, sometimes through detachment, other times through bluff and pomp. That she was frazzled appealed to his need to dominate her, to demonstrate she was meant for him and him alone.

  “I want to kiss you so bad right now.”

  Jerking at his comment, she swallowed hard, but kept her scrutiny in the general direction Tex had departed.

  “I won’t though. Not until you give me your answer about us.”

  A nervous air plowed into him. She shuffled her feet, and he thought she would say something, but Tex saved her with his return to announce the ‘all clear’. A breath of relief flooded out of her, and she walked straight to the window that overlooked the city. She stared out at the black evening, the window’s reflection highlighting her scrunched eyes. Just as lightening zigzagged across the sky, she opened them.

  “I’ll be in the hall.”

  “You know you can take the sofa, Tex.” Heath said as his protector swung open the door to take up point in the hallway.

  “Nah.” Tex flicked his gaze in Sam’s direction. “I’m good.”

  They must be an easy read because his guard made it obvious he knew something was up between them.

  “I’m gonna go to bed and read for a bit.” Sam made no effort to move in the direction of a bedroom.

  Heath nabbed the bags by the door, walked to her and offered her luggage. “Me too.” He’d rather talk, but she needed time to think. Pushing Sam further would be a blunder, and he would do nothing to impede his chances.

  “Thanks.” She gripped the strap and hesitated.

  No move to seek her sanctuary, he waited for her to speak. Instead she sought the solace of the evening view and dragged in a couple of deep breaths. Similar to liquid-courage maybe she pursued oxygen-courage.

  A few raindrops pelted the glass, and the sky flashed with the electrical storm.

  Whatever plagued her, he decided to show her mercy and leave her in peace. “Sweet dreams, Sam.”

  Disquiet slugged him, but she dismissed the view and settled her attentiveness on him. She slung the strap over her shoulder. “Consider the sham over.”

  Behind her lightening ripped open the landscape like a jagged tear, emphasizing the importance of her words.

  Did she mean what he hoped she meant? Reading too much into her words would be foolish, but the implication of her intense focus suggested more.

  He lingered to study her, but her directness detailed nothing. He’d been prepared to give her time to think it over. Praying he wasn’t misunderstanding, he asked, “Are you sure?”

  “No, but I don’t like the scenarios of what ifs you painted.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Don’t thank me yet.” A cheeky grin coiled on her face. “I have rules.”

  Rules. He adored her practical side. “I’m listening.”

  “It’s over if you call me any of those idiotic endearments.”

  Heath bit back his grin. “You wanna catalog the ones you’re particularly opposed to?”

  “Baby, honey, sugar, darling, sweetheart, pumpkin, sweetie—you know… all of them.”

  “I guess I’ll stick with brat.”

  “I am your brat.”

  Goddamn, yes she is. “My sexy brat.”

  Those dark blue eyes he fantasized about gazing into as he made love to her went soft. “You got any of those stupid names you don’t like?”

  “Pookie.” Lame-ass word, but the sweet nothing came out of nowhere. Frankly she could call him whatever she wanted, and he’d answer. But that sounded too pathetic to admit.

  “You’re safe. That’s not at the top of my list of endearments.”

  She twirled a lock of hair b
etween her fingers. An edgy move he’d never noticed her perform before. He couldn’t decide if it was a good sign that he affected her this way.

  “Any other rules?”

  Scrunching her nose she thought about his question. “I’m not sure telling the band about us just yet is wise.”

  “Why?” Secrecy could disrupt the band’s camaraderie, abuse trust. In their tight-knit union, they worked in tandem to disperse distractions.

  Air fled her lungs, and she gave in before he could debate the suggestion with her. “You’re right, can’t keep a secret of this magnitude from them. That would cause problems. I was just hoping to evade Jase-issues. Heath, maybe we aren’t such a good idea after all and shouldn’t do this.”

  “No, Sam.” Determined not to allow her to permit Jase to govern her life, he interrupted her. “He’s your brother, not your keeper.”

  “He’s a good brother. Your best friend. I love him and owe him.”

  “I can’t argue with anything you just said. Except you don’t owe him your happiness, brat.” He invaded her space and saturated his lungs with her atmosphere. His bag clunked to the floor at their feet, and he wrapped his arm around her shoulders, cuddling her in a loose hug as her hair cascaded over his arm.

  Like always she melted against him, sagged against him, and circled his waist with her arms. She rubbed her cheek against his chest. “I love the way you smell. Feel against me.” Face buried in the center of his chest, her lips fluttered against him, and he thought she whispered, “Better than narcotics.”

  When had she tried narcotics? Delivering heart attacks with lawless offenses were her specialty. If he wanted an excuse to protect himself, any of her hell-raiser misdemeanors would suffice. The narcotics conversation was for another time, so he didn’t ask. Palming her cheek, he tilted her head back with his thumb beneath her chin. Her frank gaze denoted sincerity.

  “I’m gonna touch you a lot, brat.” Likely more than made her comfortable because he was an affectionate type of guy. “Even in front of people.”

  “Is that your rule?”

  A grin twitched the corners of his mouth. “If you want to call it that.”

  “I don’t want to come between you and Jase.” The change in topic confused him a moment. Given no reply to his statement, she left him with no other alternative but to surmise she agreed to the touching. “I couldn’t live with the guilt.”

  “Let me worry about Jase.”

  “Uh uh.” She shook her head. “He’s our worry.”

  There would be consequences when Jase discovered the truth. He’d made it clear he wasn’t onboard with their fake relationship. How nuclear would he go when he learned their romance had progressed? His best friend’s resentment could cause impediments not just with his relationship with Sam, and their friendship, but also with the band. Compelled to protect Sam, it’d be unfair to ask her to stand against her brother to be with him and then coerce her into allowing him to do things his way.

  Against his better judgment, he agreed. “Very well. We’ll tell him together. But soon, Sam, we can’t wait and take the chance of him finding out by accident.”

  “I agree. Tomorrow on the jet we should tell everyone.”

  “Tomorrow is D-day then.” Caressing her jaw with his thumb, he asked, “Can I have a goodnight kiss?”

  She tilted her head back and delivered his request without hesitation. No tongue, just a slow rake of her lips against his. Normally, he’d delineate open-mouthed embraces as foreplay and only used with sex as the end result. But there was something terribly sexual about her tame kiss. Erotic without intent, he breathed her air into his lungs and became infected with her essence.

  Eyes wide-open and smoky-blue this close up, she held his gaze. Heath sifted his fingers into her hair and gently guided her head back with the dark brown strands and severed their connection.

  “Our first time making love comes only once. I want to savor the build up without rush. When I make love to you, I want your fantasies to be exceeded. I will ruin you for any other man, Sam. Prepare yourself for ruination.”

  Surprise ghosting her features, Sam blinked. He retrieved the bag with the vibrator and offered it to her.

  Hooking one finger beneath the straps, she accepted the package. “This gift is highly inappropriate.”

  “When have you ever known me to be politically correct?”

  She canted her head slightly, assenting his point. “Good night, Heath.”

  “Sweet dreams of me, brat.” A flash of a teasing smile, but she strolled away without comment. He waited until she reached her bedroom door and called out her name. When she paused and looked at him, he said, “Think of me when you use my gift.”

  “You’re bad, Heath Fangor.” She bit her bottom lip.

  “I’m gonna fantasize about you using it and getting off while thinking of me.” He’d barter his right nut to watch her, but this type of teasing served as part of the build up. “Don’t disappoint me, brat. I’ll ask tomorrow.”

  A slight tinge of pink highlighted her cheeks. “I could lie.”

  “You suck at lying.” Even as a kid she’d never been able to pull the wool over his eyes. “I’m likely to request details, so pay attention to them.”

  “Like what type of details?” The hesitation with which she delivered her question captivated him.

  Instead of answering her query, he smiled and decided to let the anticipation of his play build. “See you in the morning, brat.”

  Sam took longer in the shower the next morning than necessary. In the bright light of morning, doubt nagged her. Deciding to truly date Heath meant she took a chance wrecking so much in their lives. Her friendship with him if they didn’t make it was the least of her worries. His friendship with her brother was at stake. The band could also play a dynamic role, but most of that depended on Jase. She prayed those two things didn’t become collateral damage.

  Excitement zinged through her too. They weren’t playing any more. This was a chance of a lifetime to see if the man she’d fantasized about was as good as she hoped. Logic insisted fantasy was always better, but hope was a bitch to eradicate.

  On the short flight to Houston, Texas, she’d claim some of Heath’s time with personal questions. The basics she knew. She planned to chip away the more personal stuff.

  “Good morning,” Heath said when she exited her bedroom. Her ‘boyfriend’ sat at a table hidden by food. A cup of java rested in front of him, steam spiraling from the mug.

  She grunted. “It’s too early, nothing good about that.”

  He sipped his coffee and eyed her over the rim. “We’re going to have to work on your grumpy personality.”

  Like he isn’t used to my morning bad-temperedness.

  Grumpy was a mild term for what she was. In the mornings, she’d rather cut a person’s throat than waste the energy growling at them. Coffee wouldn’t be enough to elevate her mood. Her pick-me-up came in the form of an energy drink.

  What she could guarantee him, if he kept up his banter, he’d soon be thanking her for not cutting out his tongue. “Word of advice, if we’re going to last beyond today, I’d suggest you lay off the chirpy morning witticism.”

  Unperturbed amusement flashed across his features. “Give me a morning kiss. That’ll improve your mood.”

  “How you figure?”

  “It’ll make me happy.”

  Sam rolled her eyes.

  “I also have a gift for you, but it’s gotta be bought with a kiss.”

  “Really?” She wouldn’t point out that a gift was given, not purchased. Afraid he’d inquire about the usage of his other gift, she walked around the table to join him.

  She moved in to plant a quick kiss on his cheek.

  “Rebel,” he said, laughter tingeing his voice, as he turned his head just as her lips would’ve planted on his cheek. Their mouths connected, and he clasped the back of her head to hold her in position.

  Gazes padlocked, hers wide with shock
at his underhanded tactics and his silver gaze pleased with his success. Zero opportunity to navigate the embrace, he took charge.

  This kiss…oh, gawd, this smooch was nothing like their good night one. Open mouthed, he scuffed his tongue against hers in an abrasive and random spirit that reminded her of two bodies rubbing together in a sensuous dance.

  Nary a single protest entered her mind, and she dissolved into the embrace as her lids slid shut. The sense of sight eliminated, her other senses took over. Bitter black coffee on his tongue fit the man’s personality, bold flavors that appealed to dark appetites. The crisp fragrance of his tea tree shampoo mingled with his masculine, musk-scented soap.

  A small moan of desire rumbled from her, and he drank it down with quick swishes of his tongue. His fingers tightened on her scalp, and he clutched her hip. One tiny tug and he relocated her to his lap, leaving her straddling his thighs. Without thought she rubbed her core against his erection. Her thin pajama shorts allowed her to feel all of his length as she dragged herself across him. With their lips locked, her breath stuttered out of her into him. Sweet baby Jesus, he felt good against her sweet spot.

  He navigated wispy kisses along her jaw to her ear. “Did you play with my gift last night?”

  Shocked, her eyelids snapped upward, and she inhaled sharply. He nuzzled behind her ear, and she randomly pinpointed the upper spike of his cross tattoo peeking from the collar of his shirt. The glimmer of the diamond stud in his ear glinted through his damp, black hair curling at his neck. She dug her fingers into the fine hairs, gripping his other shoulder as she flattened her breasts against his chest.

  God, the man felt divine. Quiet strength, in a solid package that created a fine specimen of male.

  “Sam, answer me.”

  Angling her head so he could continue to perform that delightful lick-nip combo on her neck, she grudgingly whispered, “Yes.”

  “Fuck.” He shuddered beneath her, a full-body shaking that vibrated against her clit. “Wish I could’ve been there,” he said right before seizing her mouth with his again.

  A long while later he pulled away from her lips. Sam tried to dive back into his mouth, but he held her away with the strands of her hair wrapped around his palm.