by Jamie DeBree
Holly smiled politely, barely stopping herself from asking which was which, and how that particular relationship worked. Purely for research, of course. Unsure what she should do now, she stood there awkwardly, wondering if skinny dipping in the hot tub was normal rock star behavior. And trying to decide whether she'd been missing out all these years, or if it was just weird.
An arm snaked around her waist and she jumped for the second time that night. Eddie chuckled, pulling her close to his side. "I see you've met the gang. Did someone introduce you?"
Manda raised her hand, coming out of the water just enough for Jason to pull one nipple into his mouth. She squealed and threw her arms around his neck as he suckled her. Holly tried to look anywhere else, but it was pointless. The image was stuck in her brain, and though she hated to admit it, it was turning her on.
"I get the feeling you're not quite ready for the hot tub yet," Eddie murmured in her ear, his breath sending another embarrassing flood of moisture between her legs. "Come on, I'll show you the rest of the house." The last part was loud enough for the others to hear, and they waved and laughed as she gratefully followed him back to the house.
Chapter 2
Eddie shut the door behind Holly and grinned. "Sorry about sending you out there alone," he said, hoping she wasn't too traumatized. If she was, he'd make sure she got home okay, but aside from a very cute red hue to her cheeks, she didn't look too much worse for the wear. "I tend to forget that our sort of hedonistic lifestyle isn't the norm."
She shrugged, a shy smile teasing her lips. "It's okay. I was just a little shocked, is all. Where I'm from, people still lean toward the conservative end of the sexual spectrum."
"Where do you come from, if you don't mind my asking?" He took her hand, relief when her fingers curled around his mixing with a healthy dose of desire as he tugged her toward the kitchen. That would be a nice, safe, non-suggestive room to start with, he figured. And a glass of ice water wouldn't hurt at this point either.
She didn't answer right away, and he looked back with concern. Then he grinned at the look on her face as she looked around the room. "I guess it is sort of impressive the first time, isn't it?"
Her eyes flew to his face and her hand slipped from his as she burst out laughing, her arms wrapped around her middle. Amused, he waited until the reason finally hit him. Crossing his arms and leaning against a wide marble counter, he chuckled with her as she regained control.
"I do believe you have a dirty mind, Holly..." he said, shaking his finger in jest.
"Saunders," she supplied with a sheepish grin. "And yes, I'd say it's very impressive." Her tone was still light, but the way she looked at him sent excitement spiraling under his skin. Oh yeah. An image of her riding him naked under the mirrors over his bed sent an excited chill up his spine, and he deliberately pushed away from the counter and went around the other side, taking two glasses out of the cupboard. Easy there, boy. She's not one of those brainless groupies...
"Water? Wine? Soda?" he said, setting the glasses on the counter with a wink. No sense in letting her off the hook, even if he was backing off. For now.
She braced both forearms on the counter, the position giving him a good peek down the front of her shirt. Yum.
"Water please," she said, well aware of his view, if that smirk was any indication.
"Coming right up." He turned away, fascinated by her innocent yet flirtatious nature. Filling both glasses, he handed one to her, and watched as she took a dainty sip. "So what else would you like to see? We have pretty much everything available right here - a theater, gym, studio..."
Her eyes lit up at the last one. "I'd love to see the studio," she said, taking a slightly larger sip before placing her glass on the counter. Then her eyes got big and she snatched it back up. "Sorry," she said, rubbing the condensation off the countertop. "I can put this in the sink."
Eddie laughed. "Here, I'll do it." He rinsed the glasses and left them for the housekeeper, then took Holly's hand again. "Come with me - the studio is upstairs." Just down the hall from the bedroom.
* * *
Holly followed Eddie up the stairs, her heart racing as she tried not to ogle his butt in those jeans. He'd released her hand when they'd started up the steps, and her palm was still warm from his touch. As they walked down a plush hall decorated in warm green tones, she considered what she'd be doing at home right now. Checking her watch, she realized it was already well past midnight, and wondered just how long she'd stood outside that club. Longer than she'd thought, for sure.
"Here we are," Eddie said, pushing open a thick black door and waiting for her to enter. "This is where most of our songs are born. A lot of late-night sessions happen here." He walked over to the sound board and pushed a couple buttons, then flicked a switch on the wall, illuminating another room beyond the glass window above the board. Instruments were neatly arranged on stands around all sorts of microphones, and the room was carpeted all the way up the walls. Holly smiled. A room like this would be really handy for that scene where--
"Earth to Holly. Come in, Holly." The gentle teasing brought her out of the fantasy, and she gave the man beside her a grin.
"Sorry," she said. "I must have got caught up in a daydream for a minute." She'd learned long ago not to talk about her books while she was working out the plot. What people thought were helpful observations tended to confuse her process.
He smiled. "A good one, I hope. Was I in it?"
She shrugged, shooting him a coy look. "Maybe. Will you sing me a song?" She batted her lashes, not quite sure when she'd become such a flirt. He shrugged, opening a door to his right and gesturing for her to go in.
"I think I can handle that," he said, closing the door behind them with a heavy click. "If you swear you're not a journalist, I'll share part of the new song I've been working on. It's a little slower than our normal stuff, but I think it's pretty good."
Holly shook her head. "I swear I'm not a journalist," she said, thankful he hadn't specified writers. "And I'd love to hear what you're working on. I'd be honored, actually."
She looked around the room for a seat. An old olive-green couch sat against one wall, stuffing poking out of the cushions and one leg missing so it listed to the right. Eddie's deep chuckle sent shivers up her spine as he stood behind her.
"That couch is the only thing I had when I came out here from Madison, Wisconsin. I bought it at a garage sale there for five bucks when I was a college student, and have been dragging it around with me since that day. Call it my thinking couch - for when I'm stuck on a piece or just need to work stuff out."
Holly nodded, understanding completely. Her overstuffed brown chair-and-a-half at home was well loved and used, though not nearly as old.
"What a wonderful story," she said, walking over and taking a seat on the low side. "All of your history in one piece of furniture. My kind of scrapbook."
Eddie took an acoustic guitar from one of the stands against the wall and sat beside her on the couch. Positioning the instrument on his knee, he began to play a few chords. When he started singing, Holly leaned back and closed her eyes, the haunting melody and sad story of a lost love coursing through her body. When Eddie finished, she didn't want to open her eyes. The couch shifted a little, and reluctantly she peered out under her lashes. Eddie was there, leaning over her, but not touching her, his hot breath fanning her cheek.
"I really want to kiss you again, Holly," he whispered, bracing an arm on the other side of her body. His lips were only a few short centimeters from hers.
Finally, thank god. "Then do."
Holly melted as Eddie's lips met hers, softly at first, then more demanding. Her hands slid up around his neck as he eased her lower on the couch and settled between her legs. The bulge in his jeans pressed against her pelvis and she shifted with a whimper, needing him just a little lower.
"Easy," he whispered, trailing kisses down her neck. "We've got plenty of time."
Holly pulled him close
r, her fingers sliding up under his shirt over smooth, taut skin as her lips found his shoulder. It wasn't true, of course. She was incredibly lucky to be here just for the night. How many women would give anything to be in her place right now? But tomorrow she'd go back to her hotel and probably never see this man again, except on TV. Just like everyone else.
The realization was like a glass of cold water in her face, and she pushed at his chest until he pulled back to look at her. Concern etched his face, along with something that resembled fear. But what did he have to be scared of?
"I..." she hesitated, not really sure how to say what she needed to say. "Maybe this isn't a good idea. For me, I mean. I'm sure you're used to one-night stands, but I don't normally..." she let the thought go as his expression turned angry.
"Sure. No problem," he said, pushing to his feet and stepping back from her, hands up defensively. "Rockers sleep with a different groupie every night, so women don't mean anything to them. That's what the television says, so it must be true, right?" He shook his head, running one hand through his hair with the other on a hip.
"I just thought..." She bit her lower lip, guilt creeping in. He was right. She'd stereotyped him without even really getting to know him, and she'd been flirting with him, leading him on anyways. He had every right to be angry with her. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have assumed. It's just - I don't want to do anything I'll regret later. That either of us will regret."
He laughed then, a cold, empty sound. "So now I'm someone you'd regret doing, because apparently my profession requires me to sleep around. Perfect. Any other insults you'd like to toss at me before we're done? 'Cause you're doing a great job so far. If I didn't feel like a fucking rock star before, I sure do now."
Holly blinked back stray tears threatening to spill over. She'd made a complete mess out of this, and it was just getting worse by the second. "I should go. I'll...um...thanks for saving me, earlier tonight, I mean. If you'll just show me how to get back downstairs, I'll get out of your hair." She stepped around him, and grasped the handle of the door they'd come through just a few minutes before, pulling hard. But it wouldn't budge. She tried again, feeling rather than hearing him come up behind her, heat from his body making her panic as she realized how close he was. Her writer's imagination kicked into overtime, and she froze, wondering if this was the end. Would he kill her for refusing him? He didn't seem like that kind of a person, but they never did, did they?
"Stay." The low command uttered in her ear did crazy things to her skin as his arms wrapped slowly, gently around her midsection. "You might regret it, hell, I already do, but there's something about you. Something that makes me need you more than I've needed anyone in a long time. I can't explain it." He pulled her close to him, cuddling her to his chest as one hand slid up to cup the underside of a breast. Her throat tightened at his overwhelming presence as he caressed her, his breath warm on her neck. "Please stay, Holly."
She let herself lean back against Eddie's solid chest, absorbing both his heat and the desire that seemed to pulse between them as he placed gentle, enticing kisses at the juncture of her neck. Her body relaxed and her eyes drifted shut as she willed herself to stop thinking and just feel her way through the moment. Things would work out in the end. Or not. The only thing that mattered right here, right now was the feel of his callused fingers running over her skin. His hard thighs tight against hers. The way he walked her backward, so slowly she barely noticed until they weren't in the studio anymore, and he moved around to face her as he shut the door, plunging them into darkness just before his lips settled firmly over her own..
A shocked cry escaped as he leaned down and swung her up into his arms. Then he was kissing her again, and she didn't care where they were or where they were going, as long as he never let go.
Soft blankets cradled her when he laid her down, and she reluctantly let go of his neck as he lifted her shirt over her head. She reached back and unhooked her bra, tossing it to the side as he peeled off his own shirt. He leaned over and licked a long, lazy trail over one of her nipples with his tongue, sucking the tip between his teeth and biting down gently.
Holly let her head fall back with a whimper, arching up for him as he moved to the other side. Running her fingers through his hair, she tried to hold him in place, but it was no use. He explored every inch of her torso, his hands tracing curves where his tongue left off. His knee came up between her legs and the pressure was nothing short of exquisitely frustrating through too much denim.
"Eddie," she breathed, raising her hips against his as he pressed closer. "Eddie please..." She reached down and unfastened his jeans, running her fingers lightly over the bulge in his briefs before pushing the fabric off his hips. Silky smooth, she caressed his hard cock, earning a groan before he pulled away.
Impatient fingers pulled her jeans and panties off. Her legs fell open as she heard a package rip, and then he was between her legs, filling her slowly as his lips touched hers again. Light, nibbling kisses played at her mouth and she tried to respond in kind, but her entire being was centered at the place where they joined. Intense sensations she couldn't begin to describe flared out under her skin with every slow thrust, and when he reached between them, moving his thumb in gentle circles over her swollen clit, she couldn't hold back any longer.
Arching up with a cry, she took him in as deep as she could, her body pulsing around his cock as the orgasm ripped through. With a couple quick thrusts, he came with her, a low moan punctuating his own release as he stiffened between her legs. Another kiss, slow and lazy, and then he moved away, leaving her too quickly bereft of his warmth. She fought the doubt that tried to take hold as soon as he left, the uncertainty of what would come. Instead, she focused on breathing as her heart slowly settled down, and her muscles relaxed into that delicious, languorous state she'd nearly forgotten.
He joined her again then, pulling a comforter up over them both as he tucked her back securely to his front, one arm nestled cozily under her breasts. A single kiss on the back of her neck sent her whole body tingling again, and her lips curved up, just a little. Closing her eyes, she vowed that whatever happened in the morning, she'd never regret this night. It was too perfect, and for a moment, she let herself dream of what could be.
Chapter 3
"Holly? Holly, wake up."
Eddie waited to make sure she opened her eyes, and then turned to gather up her clothes, tossing them on the bed beside her. He tried to ignore the look of hurt and confusion in her eyes. There just wasn’t time…
"You have to go, right now. My agent's on his way, the studio execs are pissed, and why the hell didn't you tell me who you were?"
Eddie checked the clock on the nightstand. It was going to be close, but if Holly would just move faster, she might be able to make it out before Vincent got here. The whole situation was bad enough, but if no one else saw her here, they could just say the picture was photo-shopped and be done with it.
"You have to move faster," he said, watching her pull her shirt over her head. "As long as no one else sees you here..."
She pushed off the bed, shaking her head as she reached for her jeans. "What the hell is going on, Eddie? I tried to tell you who I was last night, but I'm not sure why that matters. And what does your agent have to do with anything?"
He handed her boots to her, and checked the clock again. "Someone snapped our picture last night, and it's all over the papers this morning--"
She gave a feeble laugh as she stood up again. "Shouldn't you be used to that by now? I mean, there were tons of paparazzi at the bar last night--"
"The picture was taken early this morning. Through a window." He grabbed her hand and pulled her out into the hall, jogging down the long corridor and down the back steps. "According to Vincent, the headline says something about a romance author doing hands-on research for her next book. Is that all I was for you, Holly? Research?" He stopped at the back door, relieved at the beige sedan with tinted windows waiting outside. Leave i
t to Mark to keep a cool head and call a driver. This wasn't the first time they'd had to do damage control.
Holly pulled her hand from his grasp, and he turned to her, surprised by her calm expression. Still, there was a distinctively cold vibe coming off her as she moved to the door, careful not to touch him. "I was doing research last night," she said, her tone quiet and even. "And no, you weren't part of that, not that anyone will believe me now. I don't know what the big deal is..."
"You might be a little more upset when you see the picture, from what I hear." A deep voice called Eddie's name from the other end of the house, and he cringed. "That's Vincent. You have to go. That driver will take you back to your hotel. I'll call you later."
She shook her head and pulled the door open. "Don't bother," she said, not looking back as she ran down the stairs to the waiting car.
Eddie closed the door and leaned against it for a moment. Vincent called his name again, closer this time, and with a resigned sigh Eddie went to meet him.
"Good morning, Vincent," he said as he entered the kitchen, gratefully accepting the cup of coffee the housekeeper offered. "I got your message--"
"Damn it, Eddie. What the hell were you thinking, sleeping with that author? She's got an interview this afternoon on The Sherry Ormond Show, and another one tomorrow on one of those early shows - hell, did you even think to have her sign a confidentiality agreement? What kind of things is she going to say about you - about the band?"
Eddie shrugged. "Not much, I'd imagine. It's not like we did much talking..." he grinned as Vincent threw up his hands and turned away. "Come on, Vincent - this isn't anything. People will talk for a few days, something else will happen, and it won't even be news anymore. We can just tell them it was a photo-shopped photo and be done with it. More publicity for both of us all around - how can that be bad?"
