by Sarah Grimm
“Tell me something, Sunshine.” His sleep-roughened voice slid over her, danced across her nerve endings like a caress. He dropped his free hand to the small of her back, bending at the waist to brush a kiss along her neck. “As much as you’ve had your mouth and your hands all over me, how is it every morning you look at me as if it’s the first time?”
“Good God, Em.” Alison whispered.
Emma’s heart took another hard leap. “Close your ears, Al, you shouldn’t be hearing this.”
His hand skimmed up her side, his eyes a beat behind. “Mm, not that I’m complaining, mind you. It’s a huge boost to my ego.”
Fingers brushed the bottom of her breast, teasing until her nipples throbbed. She felt them shrink to two tight points. “Your ego doesn’t need boosting.”
“So you say. But that look you give me in the morning? That look sets my mood for the entire day.”
“And what mood would that be?”
He flashed her a wicked smile. “Horny.”
Emma released a startled laugh that quickly turned to a gasp as he cupped her ass and pulled her flush against his body, sucking the skin on her neck in the process. “Quick, give me a kiss before the boys get here.”
She pressed her nose into his throat and inhaled him, tipped her head up, her eyes already sliding closed. She snapped them back open. “Wait! The boys are coming here?”
“Any minute now.”
“Shit! I’m not dressed yet.”
“I noticed,” he growled. “Believe me, I noticed.”
“Crap.” Emma pushed free of his hold, her eyes darting to the door of the suite as a knock sounded. “You could have warned me.”
“I was distracted.”
The door started to open which meant one of them had a key. Gary, most likely.
Emma took off like a shot, jumping into the bedroom and closing the door with a snap. She leaned against it and gasped for breath. “Asshole,” she mumbled affectionately.
It was a minute before she realized Alison was still on the line, laughing softly. “Let me guess. You’re the one who is naked.”
Emma sighed. “Not completely, I’m wearing panties.”
Alison lost it, laughing so hard she snorted.
“Al, I’m going to hang up if you don’t knock it off.” Emma looked around for something to wear. She needed clothes, fast, before one of the idiots decided they needed the bathroom. Dumping her shopping bags out on the bed, she dug through her purchases.
“Right, sorry.” Al cleared her throat. “So, Joe calls you Sunshine?”
“He does.” Somewhere in the pile there was a pair of medium wash destroyed jeans she’d fallen in love with. Sure, she’d spent way too much money on something with holes in them, but they fit as well as the leather pants and were so darn comfortable they justified the cost.
There, a swatch of blue denim beneath the pile of silk lingerie. Emma snapped the tags off and shimmied into the jeans.
“And your pet name for him is?”
“You just heard what I usually call him,” Emma replied, digging back into the pile for a shirt.
“Seriously? You whisper that in his ear when he’s…”
In the middle of hooking the front clasp of her bra, Emma froze. “When he’s what, Al? You can’t even say it, can you?”
“When he’s inside you. See, I can say it.”
She’d whispered it, as if lightning would strike if she said it any louder. Emma tried to swallow her laughter and failed.
Not wanting to damage the delicate fabric, she bit off the tag on her cream blouse—a bit over-sized, flowy and slightly see-thru, which was why she needed the bra. Slipping into it without dropping the phone was more complicated than hopping into the jeans had been. “Why are you suddenly so interested in my sex life?”
“I just think it’s sweet that he calls you Sunshine. And awful that you call him asshole. He must like it, though, since he keeps you around anyway.”
“Yeah, I’ve yet to figure out that one myself. What do you call Kevin when he’s…inside you?” she asked, mimicking Alison’s whisper.
“Nothing.” Al sounded embarrassed by the very idea.
“No? What does he say to you?”
“Nothing!”
“Seriously? No naughty talk? No whispered words of encouragement?”
“No,” Alison said on an expelled breath. She was very definitely embarrassed. “None of that.”
“God, really?”
“You make it sound like a bad thing.”
“No, I just… He’s inside of you. The sensation of that alone is…” Emma shivered just thinking about how good it felt to have Joe inside her. “There aren’t words. Then, once he’s moving and hands are involved, mouths…” She sighed. “How can you keep quiet?”
“How can you not?”
“I’m too busy feeling to care that I’m making noise. Usually, I’m chanting his name. ‘Joe, Joe, oh God, Joe!’” she teased, giving Alison the absolute truth because she knew it made her friend uncomfortable. And hell, if she could break Al out of her sexual boredom, that was a bonus. “Other times, I just scream as he drives me to orgasm.”
Al had gone quiet.
“Seriously honey, you’ve got to open your mouth and encourage Kevin. He’ll thank you for it.”
“I know I’m always appreciative as hell.”
Shit. Emma spun to discover Joe in the bedroom with her, casually leaning against the door. At least he’d had the decency to close it since she’d been changing. “Joe! I was just—”
“Chanting my name. Why do you think I’m in here?”
Emma rubbed the back of her neck. “Alison, I have to go. I’ll talk to you soon, okay?” Disconnecting, she tossed the phone on the pile atop the bed and remet Joe’s gaze. “You shouldn’t sneak up on people like that.”
“Sorry.”
“No you’re not.”
He smiled. “I take it your friend isn’t as vocal as you?”
“I was just teasing her.”
“I heard. We all did.”
Her face heated. “Spectacular.”
“You are an interesting woman, Sunshine. You can talk to her about something as intimate as what you say when I make you come, but you blush knowing I overheard part of your conversation?” He pushed away from the door and stepped close, ran the backs of his fingers over her hot cheeks. “You got it wrong.”
“I…got what wrong?”
“Would you like to know what you were chanting in the limo last night?” His voice went all husky in the way that made her panties wet. “What you were whispering in my ear as I drove you to orgasm?”
Her lungs locked. Breathing became impossible.
He bent closer, pressed his mouth against the shell of her ear and whispered her words back to her, complete with panted breath. “‘Joe…God, you feel so good…Fuck me, Joe…Harder…Joe. Joe!’”
Emma shivered and pulsed once at the memory, the rough timbre of his voice in her ear. She splayed her hands wide across his chest, touching as much of his skin as she could.
“You got the scream part right. Hell, you screamed so loud that even though I was muffling you with my kiss, they heard you outside the limo. All while pulling my hair so hard I though you would tear it out by the roots.”
She laughed softly, more aroused than she cared to admit. “I didn’t hear you complaining.”
“You never will.”
Cupping his face, she kissed him.
He dropped his hand to her hip, slid it around to palm her ass then pulled her closer. Diving into the kiss, he took her mouth roughly, tangling his tongue with hers, teasing her with the press of his erection against her stomach.
“Nice,” she murmured against his lips. “One of my favorite ways to say good morning.”
“Strip and I’ll give you your favorite.”
“No-o-o.” She drew the word out as she retreated a step. “No way, They’ve already heard enough.”
He released a sigh. “You’re killing me, Sunshine.”
“Tough. You invited them to our suite, now you get to suffer in discomfort.” She looked down at his jeans, his erection straining his button fly, and couldn’t help but run her fingers over his length.
His abs contracted. “Christ, Emma.”
She smiled. “Why are they here, exactly?”
“We’re planning to make some noise.”
“Really?”
“Come on,” he said reaching for her hand. “You’ll enjoy this.”
She expected to find the band plus Gary scattered around the lounge area of the suite, but what surprised her was how they’d brought instruments. Joe’s acoustic guitar sat atop an empty seat at the far side of the room. Steve and Zach were on his left, each with their own acoustic in their laps. Bobby sat on Joe’s right, tuning his electric bass sans amplifier, Kirk next to him, twirling his sticks. Gary occupied a lone chair in the corner closest to the door, face buried in a magazine. Apparently, the noise Joe spoke of was music.
He was right. She was going to enjoy this.
Emma let go of his hand and watched Joe walk to his chair and take a seat.
“Morning, Emma.” Kirk greeted her with a big smile on his face.
She returned his smile.
“What’s the matter, Em?” Steve asked. As the one who teased her more than any of the others, she knew before he finished his sentence he was about to comment on what they’d all overheard. “Joe doing such a pitiful job of pleasing you that you had to take matters into your own hands?”
Joe scoffed. “More like she was bragging to her friend about my sexual prowess.”
“No one gives a bleedin’ shit about your so-called prowess.” Zach looked up from the chords he’d been playing and focused on Emma. “I want to know about those bruises on Joe’s chest.”
Her face flamed again. Some days, she really hated having such pale skin.
Zach laughed. “See, now we’re getting somewhere.”
Ignoring him, she pulled the straight back wooden chair out from the desk and placed it next to Gary, sinking into it with a sigh. She stretched her legs out in front of her and wiggled her toes, smiling down at her deep raspberry polish, her big toes sporting bright neon butterflies with rhinestone accents.
Gary tipped the top of his magazine and followed her gaze. He looked at her feet, back at her, then shook his head and went back to reading.
“What? You don’t like it?”
Steve smacked the body of his guitar. “I’ve got it!” He turned his attention to Joe. “She took the flogger to you for being a righteous shit yesterday.”
“You’d better hope not,” she replied, crossing her ankle over her knee and poking Gary with her toe just to goad him. “Or I owe you all a flogging.”
“Wrong thing to say to a room full of men,” Gary muttered with a smirk.
From a seated position, Zach launched up and landed on his feet on the couch. He thrust his hand, along with the guitar still in it, into the air. “I volunteer as tribute!”
“Jesus.” Emma snorted a laugh. She didn’t know which surprised her more. Zach’s astonishing feat or the mood of the room. Everyone began talking at once, chattering right over the top of each other. Laughter soon followed, then someone—she honestly wasn’t sure if it was Steve or Zach or whether they all somehow began at once—started playing. The talking ceased and the music began. Joe’s voice filled the room.
One song coalesced into another, then another. By the fifth, Emma couldn’t wipe the smile off her face. She glanced at Gary, who’d closed his magazine and was watching as she was. “This is new.”
He tipped his head. “They used to do this all the time. It’s been months, though. At least ten.”
“Yeah? They don’t play their own music?”
“That’s one of the rules. Sticking to anything and everything but their own music keeps it friendly and fun. No arguments over style or tempo. Just them doing what they love most.”
Gary got up, retrieved two bottles of water from the refrigerator and handed her one. He followed it up with a packet of pain reliever.
She took it from him and sighed. “How did you know?”
“You keep rubbing the back of your neck.”
Did she? She swallowed the pills. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Food will be here any minute. That should help.” He stayed standing, glancing at his cell every few minutes.
“Gare?”
“Yeah?”
“I have to ask about the phones. When did you bring those back?” Emma didn’t look at him, finding the wrapper on her bottle safer than what she might see in his face, depending on his answer. “It wasn’t last night, was it?”
“You look a little apprehensive there, Emma.”
“I’m wondering if I can ever look you in the eye again,” she admitted.
He threw his head back and laughed.
Emma swore. She stood and turned for the bedroom.
“Hold up.” He flashed a smile her way. “It was this morning, okay? I figured it gave me the best odds of catching you both asleep.”
Thank God.
Food arrived and everyone ate—no two people at the same time. When one walked away to fill a plate, another took over their part. The music never lulled though, at times, it continued without lyrics. Inspired, Emma retrieved her journal and began to sketch.
She’d just started on Kirk’s hands, the way he held his sticks as he tapped out a rhythm on the arm of the couch, when Zach called, “Emma? Have any requests?”
Her answer was instant and automatic, her all-time favorite song since the night she and Alison had done an eighties vampire movie marathon. “Don’t Let the Sun—”
“Oh, hell no.” Joe groaned. “That’s a terrible song.”
“It is not!”
He just looked at her.
“Fine. Dust in the Wind.”
“Kansas!” Zach exclaimed. “We can do that.”
Joe looked at her, torn between amusement and irritation. “What is it with these depressing ass songs? I don’t ever want to hear you call one of my songs horrible again.”
“What song?” Kirk asked.
“Alienation,” Joe answered for her. “She hates it.”
Gary looked up from his magazine. “It is a bloody downer.”
“And Dust in the Wind isn’t?”
Gary shrugged.
Zach and Steve both started playing, two instruments, blending to sound like one. The melody wrapped around her, washed over her, stirred her soul. She’d loved this song since first she’d heard it. It spoke to her on a level she knew Joe, in all his teasing, couldn’t comprehend. The small hairs on her arms stood at attention.
“How does it go again?” Joe asked with a smile.
Emma started singing and his smile faded. He didn’t take his gaze off her, and his eyes were filled with fascination, surprise and so much hunger, she didn’t know whether to laugh or cross the room and kiss him senseless.
Kirk took over for the second verse. God, he had an amazing voice. She could carry a tune, stay in time and correct pitch, but she had nothing on Kirk. Then Joe joined him in the harmonies and her world shifted.
He was right. It was a damn depressing song. Nothing lasted forever, no matter how much a person wanted it to. Life ended. Everything eventually crumbled and turned to dust. It was a truth she’d accepted long ago. But hearing those words from the voice of the man she loved…suddenly she wasn’t okay with that truth. She never would be.
Shit. Now what am I going to do?
She started to hyperventilate. Like need a bag to breathe, hyperventilate. Her heart pounded in her chest. Her lungs constricted. She was in love with Joe. When had that happened?
Emma launched to her feet and would have run for the bedroom if common sense hadn’t won out. She didn’t need any attention, just to get out of there. Outside, where she could breathe.
Escape was the o
nly answer.
Her trek to the bedroom was accomplished at a half jog. She tossed her journal atop the sea of clothes spread across the bed, then perched on the edge to pull her new brown suede boots out of the box and shove her feet into them. Grabbing the matching jacket, she headed for the door, rubbing her hand over her face as she went. What little breath she had left her as she slammed into a hard wall of muscle. “Joe.”
He curled his hands around her upper arms. “What’s wrong?”
She wanted to laugh. Hell, she wanted to cry. What a seemingly innocuous question and yet it invoked the oddest reaction in her. She stared at his chest, wondering how long she could stand to be locked in this room with all of them. “I need to go for a walk.”
“Outside.”
“Yes.”
“Right now?” he asked quietly.
“Yes, right now.” He had to hear her quick intake of breaths, feel the slight tremble in her arms.
“Look at me.” Adding an assist, he tucked a finger under her jaw and tilted it up to his. “Something spooked you.”
“Yup,” she admitted. There was no use lying about it.
“I’ll take her,” Gary volunteered.
Emma rubbed the back of her thumb across her forehead. When had this happened? She wasn’t even allowed to go for a walk by herself? Have an ‘oh shit, now what?’ moment in private? “No. I’ve done fine on my own for years. I think I can handle a walk in the sun without a big strong man to protect me.”
Joe arched a brow.
“She doesn’t seem to get what could happen to a woman who looks like her in a city like this,” Gary muttered.
“What the hell does that even mean? How do I look?”
Steve and Zach started offering opinions. Emma only half listened.
“Female.”
“Petite.”
“A bit fragile.”
“Weak.”
“Beautiful.” Now that voice was different, and there was no way it belonged to the man she was positive it belonged to.
Emma peaked around Joe and focused on Bobby.
He shrugged. “You want to know what Gary means, that’s what he means. A beautiful woman like you, walking alone in a strange city, is dangerous. I don’t know why he can’t just come right out and say it.”
