by Julie Archer
One of the bouncers patrolled the waiting line, his gaze scanning for any trouble. Not that there seemed to be any, more impatience than anything else. It was freezing.
“Hey, you.” The bouncer stopped in front of him. “I need you to come with me.”
Nate saw heads swivel in his direction. “I haven’t done anything!” he protested.
“Just come with me.”
He lifted the rope and Nate stepped out, following the bouncer in the direction of the entrance.
“You’re Nate McKenna, right? You should have come to the VIP entrance. Ms Cameron left a ticket there for you.”
Ah, now it made sense. Silently, he thanked Clem for her foresight.
He entered the club and almost turned around and headed straight back out again. Talk about his total worst nightmare. Loud, pounding drum ’n’ bass invaded his ears and screaming, over-made-up women screeched at him as he went by. The VIP area was little less crowded, although the music wasn’t any quieter, or better. As he scanned the crowd for any sign of Clem, he felt every one of his twenty-nine years.
“Hey, sexy, want a drink?” a voice purred in his ear.
He spun around, ready to dismiss the woman making a move. Instead, Clem stood in front of him, a glass of champagne in each hand. She looked stunning and his cock twitched in response. Dressed in tight black leather trousers and a silky duck egg blue shirt, slashed in a deep v to her waist, he wondered how she was keeping her decency. Her blonde hair was pulled back in a sleek, high ponytail and her make-up was flawless. It took all of his willpower not to sweep her into his arms and kiss her until she couldn’t breathe.
A red-cheeked man he vaguely recognised pushed between them and thrust a hand in Nate’s direction. “I’m Byron Thom, restauranteur. And you are?”
“Seriously, Byron, I’m talking.” Clem shoved him out of the way and gave Nate one of the glasses. “This is Nate. He’s come along tonight to stop you from getting your sticky little hands all over me.”
Byron cocked an eyebrow. “Is he going to be getting his sticky little hands all over you instead?”
Nate didn’t have chance to say anything as Clem launched the contents of her glass into Byron’s face. He almost laughed but seeing the furious expression on her face stopped him. Her feistiness was making the urge to kiss her grow stronger with every moment.
A woman with strawberry blonde hair and a man with a clipboard appeared, diffusing the situation a little, as Byron rubbed at his face with a handkerchief.
“We need to do some pictures,” said the man, who Nate realised must have been a promoter of some sort. “There’s a line forming, if you guys are ready.”
“I’m only doing it if Finola is between Byron and I,” said Clem. “I don’t want him touching me.”
“Come on, Clem, it’s only for a few snaps,” said Byron. He went to reach for her, but Nate blocked him, filling the space between them. The other man looked at the promoter and then back to Clem before his gaze landed on Nate. He sighed. “Okay, whatever she wants.”
Nate stepped back as the promoter took charge and ushered person after person into the VIP area for pictures with Clem, Byron and Finola. He stayed on the side lines and watched the three of them turn on dazzling smiles as they snapped selfies, mostly with women who appeared keen to snag Byron. Even though he’d only met the guy for a matter of minutes, Nate didn’t know what they saw in him. The band had done a few meet and greets, although they weren’t anything like this, and there certainly wasn’t the same level of ear-splitting screeching.
As she posed, Clem threw glances in his direction, rolling her eyes occasionally and even blew a kiss at him. He waited patiently for her to finish, desperate to be alone with her.
Close to an hour later, they were finally done. Nate had drunk several bottles of beer on top of the glass of champagne and was starting to feel the effects.
Clem approached him, glass in hand. “Thanks for waiting. I hope you didn’t get too bored.”
She leaned over and kissed his cheek. He reached around and cupped her neck, twisting her towards him. Their lips hovered close together and Nate caught the hitch in Clem’s breathing.
“I couldn’t be bored knowing this might happen,” he whispered.
He didn’t have a chance to say any more as Clem’s lips crashed against his, her tongue dipping into his mouth. Her arms wound around his neck, the glass falling to the floor. His hands slid down her back, slipping over the shiny material of her top and cradling her arse, clad in the tight leather.
“Let’s get out of here.” She gasped, her skin flushed.
“Where to? It’s not like either of us have a place close by.”
“There’s a hotel nearby.” Clem wriggled out of his grasp and looked around for her purse. She spotted Finola. “I’m leaving. I won’t need a lift back to London tonight.”
“But, we…”
Nate didn’t wait to hear what Finola said as he grabbed Clem’s hand and pulled her through the crowds and into the street. Once outside, he looked left, then right.
“Where’s the hotel?”
This time, Clem took the lead and led Nate through the streets. As she appeared to know exactly where she was going, Nate couldn’t help but speculate if he was the first man to be taken there.
As if reading his thoughts, Clem spoke. “We come here quite a lot. There’ve been times when we’ve been too drunk to get a car home, so have crashed here.”
They stopped outside a cheap, chain hotel similar to the ones the band had stayed in when they’d been on tour. He’d been expecting something a little more upmarket from Clem.
She went inside and Nate followed. There was something totally illicit about checking in to a hotel way past midnight. It screamed ‘hook up’. He kept quiet as Clem did the talking and secured them a room. The night porter kept looking between Nate and Clem, which made Nate nervous. Was he about to be splashed all over social media as Clem’s latest lover? The thought made him shiver.
Once inside, all thoughts of what might happen after tonight left his head. He sat on the bed and reached down to pull off his boots. As he shrugged off his shirt and drew his t-shirt over his head, his gaze strayed to Clem. She had already discarded her coat and bag and kicked off her heels. He watched as she pulled the shirt out of her waistband and shrugged it off her shoulders, revealing pale skin and two perfectly pert apple-shaped breasts. She wore no bra.
“Tit tape,” she said, by way of explanation. “Leona’s used to ensuring nothing comes undone.”
A brief thought of Leona carefully applying tape to Clem’s breasts flitted through Nate’s head. Although that soon disappeared as Clem pushed down her leather pants to reveal the flimsiest, sheerest pair of black lacy panties that Nate had ever seen. She gave him a twirl and a glimpse of her peachy arse, barely covered by the thong.
“Come here.” He almost growled his command.
Clem knelt on the edge of the bed, straddling him. His hands went straight to her arse, his fingers kneading the smooth flesh as he pulled her towards him. Their lips met, tentatively at first, then harder, deeper. Clem’s nipples hardened against his chest and his own response was instant and hard as she dragged her nails across his skin. He bent his head, taking one of her perfectly erect buds into his mouth, grabbing her hips with his hands. As his tongue teased and his lips sucked, her breath hitched with a rasp, and she clutched at his shoulders. He slid his right hand downwards, drawing the pad of his thumb over her clit and deftly sliding a finger underneath her panties. She shuddered against him, as his tongue and finger slid into her at exactly the same time. His lips teased hers as he flexed and stroked, and she rocked against him, settling them into a deep rhythm with her hips. His cock pulsed painfully against the buttons of his jeans, but he wanted Clem to come first. She drew away and he looked up at her as she arched backwards, her hands gripping his shoulders, the tip of her blonde ponytail grazing the base of her spine. For a moment, he wished he could h
ave his hands everywhere: inside her, grinding against her clit, tormenting her beautiful breasts, clutching her arse.
“Fuck. Nate! Fuck me now!”
Nate didn’t need asking twice. He fumbled with his jeans and boxers, lifting Clem off him just enough to be able to shove them down, and kick them off. With a tug, he ripped the gossamer thin underwear from her body and tossed it to one side. Hearing Clem gasp, he wrapped one hand around his cock, getting into position, his other pushing between Clem’s soaking wet folds. She wriggled around, spreading her thighs and finally sinking down on him, her wetness easily able to accommodate him. He thrust up into her and she screamed. He fisted a hand around her ponytail and guided her face to look directly at his. A deep intensity burned in her eyes.
“Jesus, Nate, this feels so good!”
He wasn’t in a position to argue as the beginnings of an orgasm tingled and built with ferocious intensity. Nate rolled his hips. Knowing he was losing it he gave in to the sensations. Desperately, he wanted it to last longer, but it wasn’t going to happen. With one last thrust, he came, his head dropping backwards, releasing Clem’s ponytail, as she collapsed against him.
Both of them were panting, revelling in the aftermath. Clem slid off, and stretched out on the bed beside him, her breath still coming in short gasps. She turned onto her side, propped her head on one hand, and fixed him with a heavy-lidded look.
“Why, Mr McKenna, I didn’t expect that.”
He grinned. “Neither did I.”
“Best end to a PA I’ve had in a long time.”
Nate reached for Clem, pulling her towards him for a deep, lingering kiss. “And just as soon as I’m able, I’m perfectly happy to put in a repeat performance.”
Chapter Nine
The sun poured through the window as Clem awoke and tried to place where she was. She blinked and looked around her, taking in the discarded clothes and male body snoring gently beside her.
Nate.
She smiled. It had definitely been a good night. Clem propped herself up on one elbow and watched Nate as he slept. His dirty blonde hair was mussed up and his jaw was beginning to darken. The sheet draped loosely around his waist and she spotted the tiny tattoo of the word ‘India’ by his hipbone. Was that somewhere he’d visited and been really taken with? They hadn’t really spoken about travel. In fact, the previous evening they hadn’t spoken much at all.
Clem was surprised at herself for sleeping with someone so quickly. In the past, it had taken several dates and dinners before she even considered it. She didn’t know why it was different with Nate. He stirred and blinked in much the same way she had.
“Morning, gorgeous.” A slow smile spread across his face.
He reached out and slid a hand around the back of her neck, pulling her towards him for a kiss.
“Hey yourself.”
His fingers traced a path along her shoulder and down her side, his thumb brushing against the curve of her breast.
“We should probably go,” she murmured, as his hand moved lower.
“We should,” Nate agreed, his lips following the same line his fingers had. “Just a few more minutes…”
Reluctantly, Clem pushed Nate away. “Um, we both have to get home and I seem to remember someone ripping my knickers off last night. I don’t really fancy going commando in leather jeans and I don’t have any tit tape to keep me decent.”
Nate laughed, a low, throaty sound. “You were anything but decent last night, Clementine Cameron.”
“I didn’t hear you complaining.” She laughed back at him, leaning in for another kiss.
He rolled her onto her back, pinning her to the mattress by her wrists, his dick hard again, teasing her. “Oh, believe me, sweetheart, I’m not…”
All thoughts of heading home disappeared from her head as Nate slid into her. Their moment was disturbed by a knock on the door and a shout claiming to be from housekeeping. They both sat up and Clem clutched the sheet to her chest.
“Oh, sorry, madam, sir,” stuttered the housekeeper. “I thought you had already left. Check out is ten o’clock.”
“Shit, what time is it?” Clem reached for her phone only to find it dead.
Nate found his instead. “Quarter to eleven. Wow, we slept late.”
Underneath the sheet, Nate’s hand slid up Clem’s thigh and insinuated its way between her legs. Clem jiggled about, trying to move away from him, her gaze fixed on the housekeeper.
“If you can be out within the next half an hour, we won’t have to charge you for another night.” The housekeeper stood firm. “I’ll be back to check.” She left the room, closing the door behind her.
“What the hell am I going to do?” wailed Clem. “I have no underwear and no clothes to wear. I can’t go home like this!”
Nate’s gaze raked over her bare skin. “Oh, I don’t know…”
She threw a pillow at him. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
“Okay, here’s a solution. I can give you either my t-shirt or shirt, but you’ll have to go naked underneath. Hopefully it’s not too cold out, otherwise these will give you away.”
He reached over and rolled one of her nipples between his thumb and forefinger. The touch sent fireworks to her groin and it was all she could do to stop herself from straddling him again. With a huge sigh, she tore herself away and headed for the bathroom. She ran the water and stepped beneath the shower, the water not exactly the forceful jets she needed. While Nate got himself cleaned up, she dressed, the feel of the jeans rough against the most sensitive parts of her body. She found his shirt in amongst the tangle of clothes on the floor, breathing in the scent of his aftershave. Unsurprisingly, the soft cotton checked shirt was too big for her and she had to roll up the sleeves and tie a knot at the bottom to make it fit.
“I should lend you my clothes all the time.”
Nate’s voice came from behind her and she drew breath as she turned and saw him, dripping wet from the shower, a towel wrapped round his waist. Droplets of water slid down his pecs and Clem couldn’t pull her gaze away. She imagined him racing around a stage, topless, guitar slung around his body, commanding the audience with his talent. She shook the thought away. Time was ticking. As Nate towelled himself dry, Clem scoured the room for her shirt and ruined knickers. She stuffed both into her bag and looked up just in time to see Nate pulling on his boxers.
“Hey! I could have borrowed your underwear!”
Nate crossed the room to murmur in her ear, his voice low. “I want you to remember last night. Each time you sit down or cross your legs today. I don’t think you’re going to be able to forget it.”
He was right. The seam of her jeans was in exactly the wrong—or right, depending on your train of thought—place to stimulate her. It was going to be a long journey home. Involuntarily, she groaned.
“Come on, let’s get out of here,” he said.
They came out of the hotel to bright sunshine. Clem wished she had sunglasses with her, not least to hide the shame she felt at being commando. She turned to Nate. “Do you have to rush off?”
He checked his phone, then shook his head. “Nope, why?”
“I’m starving, I need breakfast.”
Nate’s face practically split in two with the smile he responded with. “You’re a mind reader. I definitely need food too. You sure know how to wear an old guy out,” he joked.
Clem punched him on the arm. “You’re not old.”
He quirked an eyebrow at her. “You would say that.” He took her hand. “Now, where to? I think you’ve got the local knowledge here.”
They walked down the street, hand in hand. It felt strange to Clem, good strange though. If you worked it out, she had only known Nate a matter of hours and yet she’d pretty much jumped straight into bed with him. He was nothing like any of the other guys she’d been out with before. He wasn’t in business or banking or had a trust fund. At least not that he’d shared with her. Though they’d exchanged lots of messages and had a coupl
e of conversations, Clem realised she didn’t know a lot about him. She could have stalked him on Google and found everything out for herself, but how much of that would actually be the truth? Even having breakfast together before they had to go their separate ways would be wonderful. She gripped his hand that little bit tighter.
The cafe they found was finishing up serving breakfast and they were the last two customers there. They ordered the works and found an empty table in the window.
“I didn’t figure you as the kind of girl who would come to a greasy spoon.” Nate’s eyes appraised her.
“After a heavy night, the only thing that gets me through is bacon.” The waitress brought over their drinks, two mugs of coffee and a full-fat Coca Cola. “And sugar.” Clem poured the bottle into her glass and slugged down almost the whole lot in one go.
“I had you down as an avocado on toast Insta-worthy chick.” Nate blew on his coffee, taking a more restrained sip.
“Have you even seen my feed?”
“Of course. I stalk you on it daily. That bikini shot is one of my favourites.” He winked and Clem instantly knew he was lying. She didn’t post bikini shots.
Their food arrived and they both dug in, talking the last thing on their minds. When they’d finished, Clem sat back in her seat, her hands covering her belly.
“I’m not sure that helped much, I might be sick.”
Nate laughed. “I guess I’m made of sterner stuff then. This is traditional tour fodder.” He pushed his knife and fork together. “Definitely one of the better breakfasts though. Particularly the company.” He slid a hand across the table to reach for her.
The image of the tattoo on his hipbone came back into Clem’s mind. She had to know what it stood for. For all she knew, he could already have a steady girlfriend and was playing away.
“Nate, who’s India?”
His hand froze halfway across the table and he bent his head, avoiding looking directly at her as he spoke. “That’s my daughter.” He raised his head, his eyes questioning. “I thought you would have known.”
