"He and Morris went off to get drinks," Natalie explained.
"And they're not afraid to leave you two alone with Cameron?" I asked.
Cameron winced and placed a dramatic hand over his chest. "Fucking ow. Has my reputation gone that far south?"
"Despite what you might have heard, Cam does have some standards," Ian added.
"I know I come off like a lecherous fiend, but I'd never touch another man's girl. Not once he's made his claim." Cameron took a swig of his beer and turned to Ian. "Got a queen?"
"You're cheating," Ian accused as he handed it over.
It was the fourth time in a row Cameron had guessed correctly. He was going to win at this point. Cameron took Jen's blue top from the pile of clothing.
Jen arched an eyebrow. "You better hope I win that back before Noah gets here with the drinks."
Cameron's eyes sparkled. "What would be the fun in that? I love seeing High Royal Highness with his feathers all ruffled."
August reached out for his beer, not lifting his eyes from his cards. He nearly knocked it over. I shot out my hand to keep it from tipping. He didn't notice, making uncoordinated grabby motions in the air. I placed the bottle in his hand. He wrapped his fingers around it without a second glance at me. How much had he had to drink so far?
"You got a jack?" Ian asked, nudging me to get my attention.
Ian was already shirtless. I had avoided looking at him, not wanting the others to see me drooling. He'd also lost his shoes, his pants, and was now down to his boxers. If I didn't have a jack…
I quickly scanned my cards. I had to suppress the upward twitch of my lips, not wanting to laugh at Ian's misfortune. "Nope. Go Fish."
He bitched and grumbled, but stood up to take off his boxers. A flash of silver on his wrist got my attention.
"Hey, just take off your wrist cuff," I said.
Ian froze, going stiff.
"So you don't have to strip completely," I explained.
"It's fine." He seemed to force a smile on his face, but the muscles in his shoulders and back were still tense. His fingers were twitching, trembling. "I'm cool with losing the boxers."
"Jewelry counts, though, right?"
He let out a strangled sound and shook his head.
"That's not fair to you. The rest of us can use our accessories."
"I said it's fine!" He snapped his jaw shut and turned his head away. I shrank back into my chair alarmed. The table went silent.
"I fold," he muttered after a few awkward moments. He threw his cards on the table, grabbed his pants and stalked off down the hallway.
"You can't fold, asshole!" Cameron called out. "It's Go Fish, not poker."
"What was that about?" Jen asked.
I shook my head helplessly, hurt and confused. "I don't know why he got so upset."
"You should go after him." August glanced up from his cards for a brief second, his eyes clear and penetrating. "Don't let him be alone."
I looked back to the hallway. "I fold, too."
"That's not how it works!" Cameron griped as I stood from the table and left.
Chapter Nineteen
I entered one of Cameron's many bathrooms with hesitant steps. Ian was leaning against the sink, taking a long swig of beer. With his head thrown back, his rippling throat muscles and strong jaw were on display. He'd put his pants back on, but he was still shirtless. The sight made my stomach clench.
"Ian?"
He ignored me, finishing off the beer and tossing the bottle in the sink. The glass made a clattering noise, loud in the empty bathroom. A lump of worry formed in my gut. I didn't know what I'd said to make him run off.
"I'm sorry."
He braced himself against the counter with two hands, head bowed. I could see the top of his head in the mirror above the sink.
"No." He exhaled heavily through his nose. "I'm sorry."
"I said something to upset you."
"It wasn't you. I shouldn't have—" He cut himself off and shook his head. "Never mind."
I approached him slowly. I wrapped my arms around chest from behind.
"Can you tell me what I said that upset you?"
"It doesn't matter."
He had his hang ups about his brother, about Damian's reputation with women, and now this.
"I don't like feeling I have to walk on eggshells around you," I confessed quietly.
He groaned and turned around, pulling me against his chest. "I don't want you to feel that way."
A vice squeezed my heart. The way he looked at me, the way he held me… was it possible he did feel something for me?
"I wish you'd tell me."
He buried his face in my hair. "I can't."
My heart sunk. "Okay. I get it. It's personal." I shouldn't have gotten my hopes up. I was just a fling to him. There was no reason why he would confide in me.
He shook his head. "It's just, I've never talked about it with anyone."
Whatever it was. "Even with Damon?"
"Damon knows. We don't bring it up."
I went quiet for a moment, thinking. "I'm worried."
"About what?"
About you, I wanted to say. About us.
But there was no us. Not officially.
"I'm worried I'll say the wrong thing and you'll get upset again."
"I promise I'm not upset with you. I'm dealing with my own shit." He ducked his head, until we were face to face, his hair tickling my forehead. "Okay?" His bright green eyes glittered with sincerity.
"Okay."
I was about to suggest we return to the game when hands slid down my waist. He grabbed two cheekfuls of ass and squeezed.
"So why'd you come chasing after me?" he asked, a playful note in his voice. He rubbed and caressed with magic fingers, causing a warm tingling sensation between my legs.
"I wanted to make sure you were okay." My breathing was already becoming heavy.
"Are you sure you didn't want to get me alone in an empty bathroom?"
"If I wanted to get you alone, I would have cornered you someplace classier."
"Who said anything about being classy?" He trailed his lips along my neck, leaving brief, sucking kisses. "Sometimes it's more fun to get dirty."
A fresh flood of heat coursed through my body. Between his lips and his fingers, my panties were at risk of becoming damp.
"We can't—" I stuttered, torn between pulling away and pushing closer.
Ian cupped a hand between my thighs. My legs nearly fell out from under me. "We can't what?" He rubbed his finger back and forth slowly, teasing.
"We—"
He slipped a finger inside the elastic of my panties and pushed inside me. The rough slide of it made me instantly wet. I let out such a pathetic, needy noise I was almost embarrassed for myself.
"You were saying?" He nibbled on my ear, tracing it with his tongue.
I clenched hard, throbbing around him. My hips rocked forward against my will, wanting more of that delicious friction. I moaned and Ian let out a quiet hum of pleasure.
"That's it, sweetheart. Let go."
He was doing this to distract me. To keep me from prying, from asking more questions. But when he slipped a second finger inside me to join the first, I couldn't bring myself to care. I clutched at his shoulders, keeping myself upright.
He slid his fingers in and out, slowly at first, then increasing the pace to match my racing heartbeat, my soft, hitching breaths. With his other hand, he lowered the straps of my dress and bra off my shoulders. His lips followed the path, leaving a trail of kisses.
He maneuvered my arms until the straps were loose and dangling. A quick snap of his fingers and my bra came undone at the back. One sharp tug on the hem of my dress and my front was bare to him, my breasts on full display. He spun me around, pressing me against the sink, my back to his front.
"Open your eyes."
My eyes kept fluttering closed with pleasure. I fought to obey his command. Through partially opened lids, I s
aw a reflection of my own flushed face, mouth open and wanton. I saw my own bare chest, dress pulled to my waist, nipples hard and cherry red.
I ducked my head, embarrassed to see myself like that. "I really wish we weren't in a bathroom."
"What difference does it make?"
"Because then I'd feel less trashy doing this."
Ian tweaked one nipple with a sharp pinch. I gasped, head shooting up.
"I want you to watch, sweetheart."
With my eyes fully open, I was met with a stunning sight. Ian's hand on my breast, one black-tipped nail lazily circling a nipple. Ian's deft fingers, plunging into me with long strokes, shining and slick.
Our eyes locked through the mirror. It was too much, too intimate. I gasped his name. His eyes were blazing hot, nearly scorching me with their need.
"I'm going to make you come, Hope." He murmured in my ear. "You're going to come on my fingers while I fuck you with them."
I whimpered at the words, an orgasm tingling at the edge of my senses. I pressed my ass up against his front, feeling his thick length. The small moan that escaped my lips only made him chuckle darkly.
I spread my legs wider apart and tilted my hips. He took the invitation and slid a third finger inside, stretching me, filling me, bringing me that much closer to my release. I bit my lip to keep from crying out.
"Don't do that." He nipped lightly on the curve of my neck, teeth sinking into the soft flesh. "I like it when everyone hears you scream my name." He twisted his wrist in a sharp motion, bringing a fresh flood of pleasure.
"I'll scream as loud as you want, as long as you never stop doing that." I was nearly breathless with need.
He chuckled quietly and compiled, continuing to fuck me with the fingers at a relentless pace. I squirmed against him, hips rocking and bucking, wanting it faster, deeper.
Then Ian rubbed a thumb against my clit and I flew over the edge, shrieking his name. My inner muscles clenched and released, squeezing his fingers. Ian cursed in my ear, a low growl.
"Fuck, sweetness, you're so fucking tight."
I slumped forward against the sink, small jolts of pleasure still shooting through me. My limbs trembled, going weak. The only thing keeping me up was his arm around my waist. Ian slowly withdrew his fingers, inch by inch, drawing a moan from my lips. He gathered me up in his arms and tucked my head under his chin.
I breathed deeply, calming my racing heartbeat.
"You have magic fingers," I murmured against his chest.
He let out a low chuckle. "Lots of practice."
I stiffened.
He mimed playing a riff, air-guitaring in the middle of the bathroom. I laughed, relaxing when I realized what he meant.
I didn't want to think about the other meaning.
I made a motion to pull my dress back up. Ian's hand on mine stopped me.
"Did you think we were done?" His eyes held a wicked glint. He pulled my hips against his, letting me feel his stiff length.
Getting fingered in a bathroom was one thing, but getting fucked in one?
Shivers coursed through me at the thought. Despite the orgasm I'd just experienced at Ian's hand, my hormones were already racing again.
"Maybe you were right," I said.
Ian tilted his head. "About what?"
I gave him a coy smile. "Sometimes it's fun to get dirty."
His eyes lit on fire. His mouth captured mine. When our lips met, I was set aflame. The force of that kiss overwhelmed me. His touch made me forget all about my worries, all about my hang ups. In that moment the only thing that mattered was Ian's skin under my fingers and his firm body against mine.
Ian's tongue traced the seam of my lips. I opened my mouth willingly. Our lips locked in a hot, wet kiss. Our tongues tangled together with passion. His hands explored the curves of my body, running up and down my sides, my front, my back. With an easy tug, my dress fell to the floor along with my panties.
I explored his body in turn, pressing my palms against the hard muscles of his chest, the peaks and valleys of his abs. I played with the soft trail of hair leading me down that tempting V-shape of his lower abdomen, until my fingers reached the waistband of his pants.
I fumbled at his jeans, popping the button open and pulling the zipper down with eager fingers. When his hard cock sprang free I gently took him in my hands. He let out a sharp hiss as I stroked up and down once, twice. He pulled a foil packet out of his pocket and quickly rolled on protection before putting both hands under my thighs.
"Hold onto me," he murmured against my lips.
I wrapped my arms around his neck and my legs around his waist, clinging onto him as he lifted me up. He used his body weight to press me against the wall. His stiff cock pointed upward in the space between our bodies, rubbing against my clit, between my wet folds. I bit my lip to stifle the sounds of pleasure leaving my lips.
He took himself in his hand and used the head to tease at me until I was panting and squirming. He placed his tip just at my entrance, circling it but not entering. I bucked my hips, trying to get him inside. He pulled away a few inches. I groaned in disappointment.
"You need something?" he asked teasingly.
"Yes," I moaned. "Fucking do it."
With a sharp jerk of his hips he slid inside me. I let out a choked sound of pleasure, burying my nails into the skin of his back, clawing at him. I arched my back and tilted my hips, trying to take him deeper.
He gripped the cheeks of my ass in both hands and pulled me closer, grinding our bodies together. I frantically bounced up and down on his cock, riding him. His cock pounded in and out of me. The slickness of my arousal, the clenching of my inner muscles, made him groan. He buried his head in my neck, breathing heavily.
"Fuck. Hope. I can't—"
He reached between our bodies to play with my clit. I threw my head back with a moan of pleasure. I bucked my hips harder, cling to him tighter, urging him on.
"Faster," I gasped. "Harder."
He snapped his hips against mine, penetrating me deeply, fucking me rougher. We found ourselves in perfect rhythm. My climax was getting closer. His cock hardened even further inside me, twitching and pulsing. He slammed into me again and again, hitting that spot. I cried out as I flew over the edge, exploding around him. My whole body trembled with my release.
Ian growled in my ear as he came with me, his own body shaking against mine. His fingers dug into my skin so hard I knew they'd leave bruises. I wanted them to leave bruises. I wanted evidence of this, of how much passion I brought out in Ian. I wanted evidence of how much he wanted me.
When our trembling stopped and we had caught our breath, Ian eased me back down onto the floor. He pressed soft kisses on my lips, my cheeks, my neck.
"That wasn't so dirty, was it?" he asked, a mischievous glimmer in his eyes.
"As far as bathrooms go, this one is pretty clean," I agreed with a tired laugh.
"Cam has a team of house cleaners to take care of that for him."
We pulled our clothes back on and made ourselves presentable again.
"Think that game of Go Fish is still on?" I asked.
"The girls are probably down to their panties by now."
"Then I suppose I'm glad we took this little detour."
Neither of us mentioned the reason why he'd left the game. Neither of us mentioned why I'd come running after him.
Ian had his secrets. Secrets he didn't want to tell me about.
But also secrets he didn't want me to worry about.
I shouldn't want to pry. I shouldn't want to know. It was just a fling, just some fun. None of this was serious. There wasn't any reason to talk about those kinds of things with each other. You didn't divulge your deepest, darkest secrets to the girl you were just casually sleeping with.
I had to keep reminding myself that was all we were. That was all I wanted us to be.
And maybe if I kept on repeating it, I could convince myself that was true.
Chapter Twe
nty
Clothes fittings weren't the only thing I was tasked with. My most important assignment was to prepare for Darkest Days' first photoshoot.
Not only did we need pictures of the guys for their album artwork, we needed pictures for promotional purposes. Photos for the website, for social media, for flyers and posters and advertisements — these images were going to be everywhere.
The members were being photographed with their own individual backdrop. We created what was essentially an entire movie set for each of them. You'd think we were filming some Hollywood blockbuster with the level of detail we put into the construction.
Some of the sets had been easier to design than others. Ian and Damon shared the same set — a boudoir-style bedroom with torn sheets and broken glass everywhere.
Cameron's set was split in half — one section styled like the interior of a creepy haunted house for his "demon" side. The other section was styled like the interior of a prince's castle for his "gentleman" side.
The haunted mansion had a sweeping, spiral staircase leading to nowhere. The furniture was covered in fake dusty sheets, as if no one had lived there for years. Candelabras mounted to the walls held black candles, thick blobs of wax melting down the sides. Cobwebs lined every corner. It was as creepy a haunted house as I'd ever seen.
The castle side was something straight out of a Disney movie. The set up had crystal chandeliers, red velvet window dressings, and a gleaming marble floor. It was ready for a prince and princess to have their sweeping dance across the ballroom.
It was similar to some of the rooms in Cameron's own home, minus the empty beer bottles and trash on the floor.
Noah's was more difficult. We created a dark, forbidding forest in the middle of the photography studio. The only time I'd ever seen a tree indoors was during the Christmas season. It was like that multiplied by a dozens.
August's was the worst. My drowning in tears concept meant we needed to flood an entire set with several feet of water. I felt bad whenever he shivered, cold and soaking wet. The water couldn't have been warm. He never uttered a word of complaint, though.
Hard Rock Fling: A Rock Star Romance Page 12
