"I don't want to add to your worries," I finally said.
"Tell me," he insisted.
"There's nothing much to tell. I fell for a guy. I thought we really had something. He gave me all the attention I wasn't receiving at home. Then I found out he'd been lying to me the entire time."
"Is that all?"
No. It wasn't all. He told me how special I was. He said I was the only one for him. He made me think we were going to be together forever.
It had all been a lie.
"That's all," I told him.
Ian eyed me, as if he doubted my words.
"It was the usual college heartbreak," I continued, not wanting him to pry. This conversation was only dragging up bad memories and awful feelings. It only made me remember all my promises to myself not to fall for pretty words ever again.
Just like the pretty words Ian always said to me.
I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, not wanting to think about that. Ian had just shared something so personal about himself. He'd told me his deepest secret.
I didn't want to think he was lying to me about everything else.
Ian pulled me close and pressed a quick kiss on my lips. "Thank you for telling me."
"Thank you for telling me. For explaining. I don't really understand it, but I think I can accept that you have your reasons for doing what you do."
"Now that I don't need to keep my secret from you…" He twirled a piece of my hair between his fingers and brought his face close to mine. "Maybe we can start up that fling again?"
I put my hands on his chest, pushing him away.
"We still need to talk. You can't fuck me into forgetting about this."
He smirked, although there were tired lines around his eyes. "I can try."
Any protests I could have made were immediately muffled by lips crashing onto mine. Fingers tangled into my hair and fisted into my clothes. Ian's tongue played with mine, but there was nothing playful or teasing about it. The kiss was scorching, devastating. The bite of his teeth on my lower lip, a sharp hint of pain, sent a flood of liquid straight to my core.
I knew we'd have to have that conversation eventually, but Ian had seemed drained, emotionally exhausted. If this was what he needed, I'd give it to him.
I moaned into his mouth and shifted from my seat onto his lap, legs spread on either side of him. Ian's fingers skimmed the hem of my skirt up my hips. I bucked forward until the thick length of him pressed against my panties.
Ian groaned and pulled his mouth away.
"Hope, if you don't stop, I'm going to take you right here on this floor."
"I thought you needed a bed to fuck me properly."
He groaned again and plastered his mouth once more to mine. I gasped in surprised as he stood up. I clung to him, legs around his hips and arms around his neck. Two hands cupped my ass, keeping me in place. I was too occupied with his mouth to pay attention to our destination, until I went flying through the air.
I landed on a soft mattress with a whoosh of breath. Ian immediately crawled on top of me, not wanting to be parted for more than an instant.
"That fucking dress of yours." He growled and took my mouth again. "Don't you know how goddamn tempting you are?" He tore at my clothing, pulling the dress up and over my head, leaving me in my bra and panties.
"Not fair," I gasped. "You're still wearing all your clothes."
He quickly remedied that, rising up on his knees and tossing his shirt aside to join my dress. I ran my hands up his thighs until I reached his belt. Our eyes met. I unbuckled the flaps and slid it out of the loops. I fumbled to find the button and zipper. His hard cock pressed against the seam, making it difficult to draw the zipper down. His hands joined mine, helping relieve him of his pants.
He wasn't wearing underwear. My lips parted in surprise, and in hunger. His cock was hard and weeping, straining outwards. It looked even bigger than the last time I'd seen it. Maybe because this was a different angle.
"Is this the part where I kiss it better?"
"Sweetheart, you can kiss me anywhere you like."
I grasped his cock by the base and drew him forward. When he was close enough I pressed an open mouthed kiss to the flared tip. Trembling hands cupped the back of my head.
I leaned up on an elbow and took him deeper. He grunted and fisted my hair, not pulling, just grasping tight.
I flicked my tongue along the underside. Ian hissed and threw his head back.
I sucked him down until the tip hit the entrance to my throat. He cursed out loud.
I bobbed up and down steadily, taking him deep then pulling back. During one particularly erotic flick of my tongue, he let out a choked cry.
Long before I was satisfied with my ministrations, he tugged on my hair. "Stop, stop."
I shook my head, his cock still buried in my throat.
"If you don't stop, I'm going to come before I get a chance to fuck you."
I let him fall out of my mouth with a loud pop. His cock was shiny and wet, solid as granite yet smooth as silk.
I wanted him inside me immediately.
He fumbled with a drawer in the nightstand and pulled out a foil packet, ripping it open with his teeth.
I hesitated for about five seconds before I put my hand on his. He paused, looking at me with a question in his eyes.
"Can I ask…. Are you—" I flushed, but continued on. "Have you been tested?"
His nostrils flared, understanding. "Fuck yeah. I got tested the minute we started sleeping together."
"Me, too. And I'm on birth control." I gave him five seconds for the words to register before reaching down and guiding him to my entrance. I was already soaked and ready for him. "I want to feel you. Skin to skin, with nothing in between us. I want to feel you coming inside me."
His eyes blazed with an inner fire. "Fuck, you're so goddamn wet." He groaned, sliding the length of his cock up and down the valley between my thighs. I spread my legs wider. Wild green eyes met mine. "You want me? You want me to fuck you?"
I nodded, moaning and squirming.
"Tell me, Hope. Tell me you want me." That voice was commanding, full of a dark, fierce passion, but I heard the plea beneath his words.
I shifted my hips until the head nudged my entrance. "I want you Ian," I gasped. "Only you."
He flexed his hips until the tip slid through my folds. "I don't think I can hold back."
"I don't want you to."
"I'm going to fuck you so hard you'll beg me to stop. You want that?"
I let out a soft groan. "God, yes…"
He slid inside with one hard thrust. I choked out a cry as his cock parted my inner walls. I clenched and throbbed around him, panting hard, trembling. My fingers dug into his shoulders, nails almost breaking skin.
He kept himself there, letting me get used to his length, his girth.
The fluttering of my muscles around his cock sent small shocks of pleasure pulsing from my core to my limbs to the very tips of my fingers and toes. He wasn't even moving and I was already overwhelmed.
When I was ready, I urged him to move with a roll of my hips. He pulled out slowly, every drag of his cock sending heat licking through me. When he pushed back in, that heat turned blazing, nearly setting me aflame.
He continued pulling out, then thrusting back in, over and over, an almost merciless pace. His cock would nearly leave me completely before the blunt head pushed back in.
He lifted my hips up until only my shoulders touched the bed. That changed the angle and sent my head spinning. His cock speared me, finding every secret spot, every hidden place, until I was mindless with desire.
A thumb found my clit, rubbing and circling and then he thrust at just the right angle and sparks of pleasure ignited my every nerve, sending me to soaring heights.
My eyes flew open as fervent passion took over. I whimpered and gasped and clawed at the skin of his back. I clenched around him, tight and warm.
That sent him over the edge. He
spent himself inside me, filling me, owning me, taking over every part of me. He joined me in that delicious ecstasy as we matched moan for moan, cry for cry. We trembled and gasped and clutched each other tight, not letting go as we rode wave after wave.
Slowly, ever so slowly, as the seconds ticked by, our mutual pleasure abated and we came back down to earth. Ian moaned into my ear, a breathless plea.
"Tell me."
He was still inside me, cock still pulsing and twitching. I gripped his hips tight with my thighs, not wanting to let him go. Not yet.
"I want you, Ian. Only you."
We laid there, limbs tangled and bodies pressed together, steadily catching our breaths for what felt like hours, days, an eternity. I didn't want to leave the circle of his arms. I didn't want to wake up and face reality. I didn't want to remember the real reason why I'd come over.
I didn't want to remember the sight of Ian covered in bloody scars.
I buried my face in his chest, squirming until I could feel his heartbeat. It pumped rapidly under my ear, not slowing at all.
"Ian…" I started to speak, hesitant and not sure at all how to start a conversation like this.
His breath hitched. He tugged me closer, nearly breaking my bones with the strength of his embrace. He tucked his nose into the hollow of my throat and let out a sigh.
"We still need to talk," I continued.
"There's nothing to talk about."
Exactly what he'd said when he'd first opened the door. I didn't think it was true. If he didn't want to talk, he wouldn't have let me in. He would have continued ignoring me, shutting me out, the way he'd done when I'd broken it off.
"You said you stopped for a while. But you've started doing it again."
He let go of me and hoisted himself up. He sat on the edge of the bed, his head in his hands. "I can't let the band go on hiatus for a second time." Ian's eyes were exhausted, full of pain. He was tired of fighting. "I can't do that to them."
I crawled over and wrapped my arms around his neck, pressing my bare front to his naked back.
"At least tell your brother. Tell him you're sick and tired of the Damian thing. There's nothing wrong with wanting to be your own person."
"I can't. I know he feels helpless. Like there's nothing he can do to help me. He's trying. This is the only way he knows how. Besides," Ian quirked small smile. "I've only slipped up twice. I won't let it get that bad again. I promise."
"Okay." I tried to hide my unease. An inkling of an idea began to form. "I won't force you."
"Thank you." He gripped my hands for a brief moment before standing up. "I'm going to take a shower." He threw a grin my way, as if our entire conversation hadn't happened. "Care to join me?"
"I'll be there in a minute."
When he was gone, I creeped out of the bedroom to find my purse. I pulled out my phone and dialed. After a few rings he picked up.
"August? Hi, it's Hope. Can we talk?"
Chapter Twenty-Nine
I tapped my finger against the conference room table, nervously waiting for the members of Darkest Days to file in. I'd arrived early to set things up. I had sketches and fabric samples and market research to back me up. I wasn't sure I'd need any of it, but I wanted to be prepared. This meeting was important. Not for me, but for Ian.
I was surprised when Naomi, the band's manager, walked in with her usual impeccable suit and sleek bob. I hadn't known she'd be in the meeting, too.
"Mind if I sit in?"
"Not at all."
She pulled out a chair and sat across from me.
I hadn't spent much time with Naomi. She seemed like a competent, no-nonsense kind of person, but always with a pleasant smile on her face. Unlike Janet, who always looked like she'd eaten something sour.
"How are you finding things?" she asked.
"Good. Things are great. I'm having a lot of fun working with the band." I winced inside. Maybe she would think I was being too flippant. Work wasn't supposed to be fun.
She gave me a wide smile. "Glad to hear it. I know the guys can be trying at times. Cameron, especially."
"I can handle him."
"So I've heard. I want you to know you've been doing good work. Kristine and August have nothing but praise for you."
My heart leaped. "Thank you. That means a lot."
"I actually wanted to speak with you about that." Naomi clasped her hands together on the table and leaned forward. "I know you were originally hired for a short term internship. I don't know what your plans are beyond that, but we've been talking. What do you think about staying on and continuing to work as an Image Consultant for Etude Entertainment?"
I let out a small choking sound. "Really? That would be awesome! I'd love to. Very much."
"Wonderful. I'll speak with our team and draft something up. An official job description, employment contract with salary and health benefits."
I knew I was officially old, because the phrase health benefits made me go all tingly inside.
"Do I need to do anything? Talk to Janet or something?"
"No, I'll take care of it all. You continue working on the current album. Are those new sketches?" Naomi leaned forward.
I explained to her with excited motions what my new plan was. She worried for a bit, but I managed to convince her this was the best move for the band.
Although, mostly I meant it was the best move for Ian.
August wandered in a few minutes later, taking a seat beside me. He was surprised to see Naomi, glancing at her with questioning eyes. She tilted her head towards me and nodded.
August gave me a brilliant smile, the first real expression I'd seen on his face besides thoughtful or intense. "Welcome aboard."
Ian and Damon came in a few seconds later, playfully shoving at each other. I quickly glanced at Ian's wrist, but didn't see any gauze peeking out from his wrist cuff.
He caught me staring and gave a shake of his head, letting me know he hadn't done anything. I hadn't thought he would, but it was better to make sure.
"Thanks for coming, everyone," I said briskly, trying to sound professional. I was an official employee now, not just an intern.
"What's this meeting about?" Ian asked, a slightly puzzled expression on his face. I hadn't told him about it until early that morning, just before I'd left for home to get changed after another night together. I hadn't told him what I'd planned.
"Sorry for the last minute notice, but I think this is important."
"So what's up?" Damon grunted impatiently.
"I had some trouble sourcing enough material for your shattered glass concept." I was only fibbing a little. I'd had some trouble, true, but in the end I'd managed to scrounge up enough. They didn't need to know that. "So we've decided to go back to my original idea."
"We?" Damon asked, sitting up in his chair with a frown. "Who's we?"
"August and I."
Ian and Damon both flicked their eyes to August. He gave nothing away. I pressed on.
"We're going to go with torn bloody clothes for Damon to represent passionate fighting, and silk and leather for Ian to represent passionate sex."
Ian tilted his head in surprise, glancing back and forth between me and his brother.
"No." Damon shook his head. "I told you before, we want the same concept."
I looked to Ian, pleading with my eyes. Pleading with him to say something. He stared at me accusingly.
"I think this is the best direction to go in. For the band, for the concept, for everything."
I gave Ian an encouraging look. I'm doing this for you. Surely he had to see how important this was.
If it didn't work…
Ian closed his eyes and inhaled a deep breath. I could tell he was steeling himself.
"I like the idea."
Damon swung his head around, astonished.
"I don't want the same concept." Ian looked only at his brother as he spoke, giving him a nervous smile. "We've done the Damian thing for so long. This album
is about trying something new. I think we should do it, Damon."
Damon's mouth popped open. Whether it was Ian calling him by his name in front of everyone, or whether it was Ian disagreeing with him, either way he was almost shocked speechless.
Damon stared Ian down, a penetrating gaze, concentrating solely on his brother. "Are you sure?"
"Positive."
They communicated without words. A bevy of expressions crossed Damon's face, not the least of which was worry. Worry and fear. He was afraid for Ian?
After a few moments, Damon nodded slowly. "Okay. Different concepts it is." He turned to me. "But you better make sure my torn clothes are sexy and not trashy. I'm not going to pull any of that Zoolander Derelicte shit."
Ian and Naomi snickered. August looked vaguely confused.
"No trash, I promise."
Damon narrowed his eyes at me then shrugged. "Fine. Let's run with it."
A grin spread across my face. "Perfect. I'll get working on it right away. We'll have to move fast. The album's almost done, we're already starting promotions. I need to get the material, get you both fitted again, we'll need multiple rounds of tailoring…"
"Don't kill yourself over it," Damon grumbled.
"Let me know what help you need," August told me. "I'll make sure you get it."
I had no doubt he would.
I'd spoken to August that first night I'd spent with Ian. I'd quickly run my idea by him. He hadn't been convinced at first. I had hedged, trying to explain without coming out and saying exactly why The Twins needed to have two different concepts.
I'd briefly mentioned Ian's name, saying something about how I thought it would be good for him. August had gone quiet. After several long moments of quiet breathing over the phone, he'd agreed. We both left the real reason unspoken. I think August knew without me telling him.
It seemed not much got past August Summers.
I adjourned the meeting and gathered up my sketches, tucking them into my portfolio. Damon pulled Ian aside in the hallway. They spoke with hushed tones, Damon with a confused expression on his face and Ian looking abashed. Slowly, his expression morphed into determination, firm and resolute.
Damon placed both hands on his brother's shoulders, bringing their foreheads together. Damon whispered a few quiet words. Ian responded with a smile. Damon pulled his brother into a hug.
Hard Rock Fling: A Rock Star Romance Page 17
