Nicole snatched it out of my hand and scrambled up. We split into two teams—boys versus girls. And there was a reason for this. With the two women involved, Jared and I turned it into a physical game, if you get what I mean. There was a lot more touching involved than was normally called for.
Nicole tried to dribble the ball around Jared, but I swooped in, wrapped my arms around her from behind, and swung her out of the way. She laughed, not at all upset that I’d prevented her from scoring on our makeshift goal, constructed out of the coats we’d shed. Not that she was much better. At one point while I was trying to get the ball away from Callie, Nicole came up behind me and murmured in my ear, “I don’t suppose you have handcuffs for tonight?”
That was enough to distract me from the game. I spun around to see if she was serious. She laughed, and did her best to block Jared from using one of his dirty tricks on Callie. Callie went on to score.
We eventually headed back to the hotel to get ready for tonight’s performance. There was a notable change between Nicole and me, a shift in our relationship. What surprised me the most was Jared’s earlier comments. He didn’t care if Nicole and I were involved—not like in the beginning, when the band made it clear that Nicole and I couldn’t fuck each other while she was working for us. But maybe the rules changed when love became part of the equation.
Nicole’s room was further down the hallway from mine. Callie and Jared had already disappeared into theirs. As we approached my door, I took hold of Nicole’s hand, making it clear I wanted her to join me. We still had time before the concert, and I intended to show her how much I loved her—even if I wasn’t ready to tell her with words just yet.
“Let me shower first and get my stuff from my room,” she whispered, leaving me to fist-pump the air in gratitude.
Chapter 23
Nicole
Mason still had some time before we had to leave for tonight’s concert, but would he want to spend it with me? Normally we did. But that was different. That was while we were on the bus or going to an interview. That was part of my job. Going into his room and showing him how much I loved him? Not in my job description.
I spent the entire ride to our floor wondering if I should say something to him. If I was a groupie, I’d have an advantage when it came to seduction. But being seductive was a skill that had always eluded me. I was sure that if I attempted it, I would come off as laughable at best.
My question was answered a moment later when we reached Mason’s bedroom door and he grabbed my hand. It was clear that he desired me, and he wanted me before we left for the concert. Another emotion—one that wasn’t so clear—also stirred in the depths of his eyes.
“Let me shower first and get my stuff from my room,” I whispered.
He released my hand and I hurried down the hallway. In my room, I quickly showered and changed into the baby doll lingerie, my heart pounding loudly in my chest. I wouldn’t be surprised if the people in the room next to mine could hear it. No, this wouldn’t be the first time I’d had sex with Mason, but for some reason everything felt different. This time my heart was on the line—and it made me nervous as hell.
I pulled on my jeans and a Pushing Limits T-shirt and grabbed my favorite long wraparound cardigan. My new look, which I had adopted while on tour, was a fusion between rock music and country-western chic.
As I started toward the door, my phone rang. It was Zack—and he was a day early for our usual chat.
Despite knowing that Mason was waiting for me, despite my body attempting to shoo me over to his room, I accepted the call. “Hey, is everything okay? Or are you confusing Monday with Tuesday?”
“Everything’s fine. I just have a second to talk, but I wanted to wish you an early happy Thanksgiving. I won’t have a chance to talk for the next week because of a training mission.”
I smiled at hearing his voice even though it made me miss him more than normal. Our mother had died shortly after Thanksgiving. But instead of letting ourselves wallow in our grief the following year and every year after that, we had done whatever we could to make Thanksgiving still special—the way Mom would have wanted. “Happy Thanksgiving to you too.”
“How are thing going with all the touring? Still having fun?”
“Definitely. But I couldn’t imagine doing this for the rest of my life.”
“How’s Mason doing?”
“He’s doing great.” Although he would probably be doing better if he wasn’t still waiting for me to show up. “All the guys are doing great.” I glanced at the clock.
A muffled sound came through the phone, like Zack was talking to someone but had his finger loosely over the mike so I couldn’t hear what was being said.
The talking stopped. “Sorry, Nicole. Duty calls.” We said our goodbyes as a text came through on my phone. I ended the call and checked it.
Are you still coming? Or rather, are you still planning for me to make you come? Mason, of course.
I replied. Sorry, Zack just called. Heading over now!!!!
I opened my bedroom door and poked my head out, then glanced down the hallway in both directions. Although I’d gotten the sense today that Jared didn’t care if something happened between Mason and me, I had no idea if the rest of the band shared the sentiment.
And this wasn’t the time to find out their opinion on the topic.
The hallway was empty, other than the housekeeper parking a cleaning cart a few doors down from Mason’s room. Without giving me a second glance, she removed supplies from the cart and disappeared into one of the rooms. I slipped out of my room, shutting the door behind me, and scurried to Mason’s room. I knocked on his door, still keeping an eye on the hallway.
The door opened and Mason gave me a once-over, as if he had X-ray vision and was checking to see what I was wearing under my cardigan and jeans. His mouth shifted up to one side, giving him the rapid-heartbeat-inducing smirk I loved so much. No man could pull off a sexy smirk the way Mason could.
“Weren’t you supposed to wear the sexy outfit you bought today?” he asked as I entered his room.
“Maybe I am.” I winked at him, then let the cardigan slip away from my shoulders and pool to the floor. He stood there, waiting appreciatively for the show to begin.
With one of my favorite Pushing Limits songs playing in my head, I hooked my fingers under the hem of my T-shirt and dragged my fingertips up my body. Inch by slow inch, I revealed the mesh camisole that covered my stomach but did nothing to hide it.
Mason’s eyes turned dark with desire, and my confidence grew with each exposed inch of my body. I might not have been a skilled seductress, but that didn’t matter to him.
Which was a good thing. I now understood why strippers didn’t wear T-shirts. It was difficult to come off as sexy when yanking one over your head. At least guys could do the cool trick where they grabbed the back of their collar and pulled the T-shirt off that way, revealing their sexy abs in the process.
But when a woman tried it? Not so sexy.
While moving my body in time to the ballad in my head, I removed my T-shirt without ruining (too much) the effect I was going for. Bonus seduction points for me.
If I’d thought Mason’s eyes were lustful before, that was nothing compared to now. And I still had my jeans to go. I slowly undid the button, my hips swaying to the beat in my head. Then I ran my fingers along my hips and my waist and up my ribs, briefly cupping my breasts. Mason’s heated gaze turned my panties wet, which was nothing new. Judging from the bulge straining against the zipper of his jeans, my strip show was turning him on as much as it was me.
My hands continued their upward journey, ending in my hair, which I pulled back into a messy ponytail. With my hips still swaying and my hands in my hair, I lowered myself until my butt was only inches from the ground…and, surprisingly, I did it without landing on my ass. If Heidi’s and my business didn’t take off after the renovations the way we hoped, I could always become a stripper. Or not.
; Releasing my hair, I straightened up and traced my fingertips down my body and the see-through baby doll.
“You know you’re killing me, right?” Mason said, his voice thick and sexy. He swallowed. Hard.
I winked again.
He groaned, and it took everything inside me to keep from giggling.
With the same teasing slowness as before, I unzipped my jeans and shimmied them down my legs. I had barely stepped out of them before Mason’s hands were all over me, his self-restraint finally lost.
The kisses started out hungry…for both of us. But then they dissolved into something that was more tender yet at the same time consumed me to the core and almost melted me on the spot.
Mason pulled away ever so slightly, and my lips immediately missed him. But there was also something else of his I was missing. “Hardly seems fair,” I said, “that you’re dressed and I’m wearing nothing but this.” I gestured to my body, then bunched the fabric of his T-shirt in my hands and pushed it up, exposing those fine abs I hadn’t seen in a while.
He got the hint and hastily removed the T-shirt. I reached for the button at his waistband and slipped it through the opening. My hand might have accidentally-on-purpose brushed against his hard length. The resultant growl deep in his throat almost had me coming. Oh, who was I kidding? I was pretty close to falling apart at his feet. He really wasn’t playing fair…but then neither was I.
I unzipped his jeans, but unlike when I’d undone mine, there was nothing slow and deliberate about it. I craved to touch him—now.
Mason didn’t wait for me to help him with the rest of his clothing. He yanked it off in one efficient move. He then stroked his warm hands over my body, as if worshipping me. Each and every nerve buzzed with the need to love him, and for him to love me in return.
He reached behind me and his nimble fingers unhooked my baby-doll top. The bra and mesh slipped forward, aided by Mason sliding the thin straps down my arms. His hands gently cupped my breasts, then his thumbs traced circles around my nipples. I arched back, pressing the full globes into his palms.
He ran his lips against my jaw. “I don’t want to fuck you, Nicole.” My legs quivered at his husky, sex-starved voice. “I want to take my time and make love to you.” I gasped softly at his words. “But first I want to taste you and make you come hard against my mouth.”
I barely heard the second part, my fuzzy brain still stuck on his earlier words. But I didn’t have time to further question what he meant—my body was more interested in the part about the promised orgasm.
Mason kissed me again as he guided me backward onto the bed. I sat down, then lay back with Mason still kissing me. His hot, naked body pressed down on mine.
Before I could wrap my arms around him to keep him from leaving, he pulled away and peeled my lacy panties down my legs. He lifted my legs onto his shoulders, revealing my aching core.
It had been only nine weeks since the last time Mason had touched me this way, but it felt like it had been forever. I’d experienced sexual droughts lasting much longer, but this time it seemed different.
His tongue lashed against my happy place. It couldn’t have been more thrilled that now the drought was over. And because of that, it didn’t take long before the warmth in my lower belly became all-consuming. A wave of euphoria rushed through me, taking me over the edge. I arched my back and released a cross between Mason’s name and a moan. I really hoped Kirk wasn’t in his room next door. Or, if he was, that he had no idea it was me serenading him with the loud, erotic noises.
I drifted back to earth and smiled drowsily at Mason. He sat down on the bed and opened the nightstand drawer, then removed a box of condoms and pulled out a foil package.
“You have condoms?” I said, stating the obvious.
“After spending last night alone in bed, I was hoping I could convince you to stay with me. That’s the only reason I have them. Like I said before, I want to make love to you, Nicole. You and only you.” He gave me a small, hopeful smile.
And I nodded. Nodded because I longed to make love to him. Nodded because I loved him and only him. Nodded because I had lost all ability to speak after what he had just said.
He rolled the condom along his length, then leaned down and kissed me. Like the earlier ones, the kiss was tender and filled with love. I shifted my body to straddle his hips and lower myself onto his thick length.
With our gazes locked, I moved my hips slowly, taking him in deep. The heat in his eyes told me he was more than happy with this pace, with this level of intimacy.
We stayed like this, the buildup to the apex a slow burn. When the softest part of me eventually clenched around him, the climax was more intense than I ever remembered it being. After Mason, no other man would ever come close to satisfying me the way he did.
Remaining inside me, Mason flipped me onto my back and thrust deep, again and again and again, until he joined me in an earth-shattering orgasm, calling out my name—which ended any chance I had of keeping our relationship anonymous when it came to his bandmate next door.
After a few moments he lifted himself from me and discarded the condom in the trash. Before I had a chance to miss him, he was back in bed, cuddling me against him.
He kissed my forehead, then shifted so that he was looking down at me, my head on his pillow. “This is probably not the best time to tell you, but I’m in love with you, Nicole.”
I parted my lips to respond, to tell him that I loved him, but he settled his finger against my lips, halting my words.
“I know I don’t fit your list of the characteristics you’re looking for in the ideal man,” he continued, “and that’s okay. I just needed to tell you how I feel about you.” The vulnerability in his eyes was staggering. It was similar to when he had shared a piece of himself in the music store back in Desert Springs, when he had played his song on the piano for me.
And that made me love him even more…and wonder at the same time if someone had once hurt him.
He lowered his finger from my mouth, and I brushed my lips against his. “I love you too. I don’t know what it means for us, but my heart wants what it wants. And right now it wants you.” Damn, stubborn heart. I had a feeling that at some point I’d wind up cursing that vital organ.
We continued kissing unhurriedly, confirming our love for each other. We stayed like this until we were ready to make love again. This time, as we got closer to when we had to leave for the concert, our movements were less tender but nowhere near less satisfying.
We then showered and got ready, both of us avoiding the one topic we weren’t ready to discuss: what our love for each other meant for our future.
Chapter 24
Mason
Nicole was still asleep next to me when I woke up late the next morning. Thanks to the thick curtains, the room was dark except for a strip of sunlight sneaking its way in through the narrow gap between them.
The curtains were useless against the car horns that blared every few minutes, though. Welcome to New York City.
I listened for a while to Nicole’s soft, even breathing before finally making a decision. I had no idea what our future held for us together, but one thing was certain: before I could move on, I needed to make one final attempt at fixing things with my family.
I owed it to myself, and to them, to at least try.
The last time I had spoken to any of them was three years ago. I had no idea if my parents were still living in the house I’d nearly cost them three years before that, and I had no idea where to find my brother and sister.
I slipped out from under the covers, careful not to wake Nicole, and sat on the desk chair. I pulled out my phone and Googled my father’s name. At the top of the results page was the link for an obituary. Frowning, I clicked on it and scanned the article.
“Fuck,” I said, louder than I had intended.
Nicole stirred in bed and slowly opened her eyes. “What’s wrong?” Her voice was husky with sleep, but for once my body didn’t reac
t to it. She pushed herself up to a sitting position, causing the bedding to slide off her. It pooled around her waist, leaving her breasts exposed. Normally that would be enough to distract me. But not today.
“My father’s dead,” I said. To my ears, my voice sounded hollow, broken.
“Oh God.” She scrambled out of bed and wrapped her arms around me. Never before had I needed someone’s touch as much as I needed it now. Or maybe that had to do with the woman holding me, showing me how much she loved me. “I’m so sorry, Mason.”
She pulled away after a beat, her expression free of pity and heavy with understanding. Both of her parents were already dead.
I sat down heavily next to her on the bed. For a second I just stayed there, unmoving, at a loss as to what to say or do. Nicole rested her hand on my thigh and soothingly stroked her thumb against my bare skin.
I closed my eyes and let my shoulders slump forward, the pain of everything overwhelming me.
“What happened?” she asked, her voice a whisper of concern.
What did I tell her? Nicole would hate me if she found out what I had almost done to my family and how low I had sunk at one point when it came to my gambling addiction. Her father’s own addiction had come close to destroying her family. I knew I should tell her the truth about being a recovering addict, but I just wasn’t ready to go there. Not yet. Not now.
I inhaled deeply, then let out a long, slow breath. I opened my eyes and stared at the painting on the far wall, unable to look at Nicole. In it, a lone couple stood next to what could be a fountain in Central Park on a rainy day. You couldn’t see their faces, thanks to the red umbrella obscuring them. It was the sole splash of color in the otherwise monochromatic picture.
“I told you I’m not close to my brother and sister. They aren’t the only ones I haven’t been close to in a long time.” I swallowed back the pain, which had formed a bass-drum-sized lump in my throat. “I decided this morning to try to contact my family again. But when I looked up my parents’ address back in L.A., I discovered my father’s obituary.” I scrubbed my hands against my face. It wasn’t enough to erase the words in the obituary from my mind. “He died two days ago from cancer, and no one thought to tell me he was dying. His funeral is tomorrow.”
I Need You Tonight Page 17
