by Lynne Silver
He ignored her and kept his attention on Hannah who was starting to strum. There was no introduction, no clue to the disinterested audience that it was really Dakota Starr in country-girl attire playing for them.
Then she looked up, and he knew she wasn’t playing for them. She was playing for him.
He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move as she played a song he didn’t recognize, and then the lyrics penetrated.
Four days.
Your ways.
Never enough. I wanted more.
I want more
Than four days.
He was halfway across the dance floor before his brain caught up with his feet. He stood near Hannah as she continued to play for her audience of one. A tuned-in customer had finally recognized Dakota Starr and had his phone out, recording the whole thing, but Hannah seemed oblivious. She kept her gaze on Carlos and sang to him.
He fucking loved the song but it needed to end, so he could grab her and kiss her. If that’s what she wanted. It was what she wanted, right? Why the hell else was she here singing a song telling him she wanted more?
And why the hell had Ian and Drew kept this secret from him? She must’ve promised his bosses her first-born child if they hadn’t promoted the shit out of Dakota Starr playing a set on a random Tuesday night. He’d kick their asses later for blindsiding him, after he’d kissed them first for helping arrange this amazing surprise.
Then Hannah was finished with her song, and the applause lit up the room. She shyly gave a wave, carefully placed the guitar on a stand, and hopped off the stool and the stage to stand in front of him.
“Hi,” she whispered.
“You’re here,” he responded before lowering his head to take her mouth in a kiss he’d been craving for months. He didn’t let her up to breathe for a long time, until it occurred to him that she’d performed and might need water. Or air.
But she didn’t seem inclined to let him go, and clung to his shoulders, her tongue tracing his lips. Her scent was as he remembered and missed. He remembered he owed her a thank you and pulled back to say, “You paid my tuition.”
She bit her lip. “You never cashed my check.”
No. He hadn’t. He’d brought it to the bank a dozen times, and in the end… He pulled out his wallet and tugged out the crinkled, worn blue slip of paper. “It was the only thing I had of you.”
She grabbed the check and tore it into tiny pieces, letting them float to their feet.
“Hey,” he protested. “I wasn’t going to cash it.”
“I know,” she said. “But if you want a piece of me, you can do a hell of a lot better than a check.”
He stared at her, his brain trying to do the mental arithmetic. Romantic song plus an offer of a piece of her. Did that mean…? He realized she was still talking and forced himself to concentrate.
“Were you mad?” she asked. “You never cashed the check, so I sent a check directly to your school.”
“At first I was mad, but not as mad as when I saw you and Steven Golding,” he said, mentioning her co-star. “Is that why you’re here? Is your thing with him over?”
She shook her head. “It never began. Those photos of us were shot on set. We play lovers in the movie. Steven has a serious girlfriend, but she doesn’t ever want to be in the public eye. Their relationship was what gave me hope that maybe…” She trailed off and looked at him with wide eyes.
He was about to tell her hell yes to anything she was offering when she said, “I wrote it for you. A whole album worth of songs. You gave me the courage to push for my music.”
“Yeah?” His words were simple and concise, but inside he was bursting with excitement and pride that this amazing woman had written one song, let alone multiple, for him. It boggled his mind. He was just Los, a bartender from Miami, soon-to-be hospitality master’s degree graduate. “That’s amazing.”
“I found a producer, too, and I head back to the studio next week.”
“Wow.”
“Making an album is a lot of work,” she said, looking at her feet and swaying slightly where she stood. “But there’s time at night, and I’m allowed friends in the studio.” She fell silent.
“Hannah, are you asking me to visit in L.A.?”
“I was hoping for more than a visit,” she muttered. She looked him in the eye. “But that’s crazy, right? We were only together for a week.”
Touching her and holding her suddenly became more necessary than breathing. “It was a hell of a week. What’s crazy is if we don’t try. It’s crazy if I ignore the feelings I’ve got for you.”
Her radiant smile nearly brought him to his knees. “You have feelings for me?”
He laughed. “Come on, Starr. You flew across the country to sing me a song in public, and you weren’t sure how I felt about you?”
She wasn’t smiling. “I wasn’t sure,” she said. “That first night…maybe. But then I messed everything up when I offered to pay you to date me. I screwed up, Carlos. Can you forgive me?”
He pulled her in tight for a not-so-gentle kiss. “Nothing to forgive. Can you forgive me for leaving you and taking your check? I should’ve said fuck it to the money. I should’ve asked you to stay in Miami.”
“But I had a movie to make.”
“Then I should’ve followed you to L.A.”
“But you have school.”
He frowned, pulling back to hold her shoulders and look at her expression. “Are you going to keep looking for reasons to keep us apart? Besides, I graduate in three weeks.”
Her eyes widened. “You do?”
“Yep. And it’s possible I have a job interview at a certain five-star hotel in Beverly Hills after graduation.”
She squealed and leaped on him to grab him in a breath-stealing hug. Her cowboy hat toppled to the ground. “Los! Ohmigod. You were coming to me?”
He squeezed her in closer and buried his lips in her soft hair. “Yes. I couldn’t let you go, Hannah. Not without giving us a fair shot.”
Her lips found his and he carried her off the floor.
“I have a car outside,” she said, looping her arms around his shoulders. He didn’t bother telling his bosses he was out of there. If they’d set up the whole thing with Dakota, they’d known how this would end.
Twenty minutes later after a seriously hot and heavy make-out session in the back of her chauffeured car, they were back in the same hotel she’d stayed at last time. Only this time, everything was different.
He was here because he wanted to be and no money was changing hands. He could finally do everything he’d dreamed about to Hannah.
Hannah couldn’t stop smiling. When she’d put her heart into her songs and laid it all on the line for Carlos, she wasn’t sure how the night would end. Reality was proving to be even better than her expectations.
The second they were near the bed he got to work on removing her clothes. She knew her lips were spread in a wide smile that had nothing to do with what his mouth was doing to the skin on her neck and shoulders. Her bra seemed to fall off at the slightest tug, and she arched her breasts into his waiting hands.
As in most Miami buildings, the air conditioning was set to polar bear, and her nipples hardened and her skin chilled, but then Carlos was removing his clothes and the two of them bundled under the bed’s thick cozy comforter.
His bare chest against hers was the best thing she’d ever felt. Taut, supple, lickable, and oh God, she sounded like a chef on the Food Network. The heat from Carlos’s skin with the smooth texture was delicious balanced with the sweet taste of his tongue.
“What’s so funny?” he asked, stopping whatever amazing thing he was doing with his fingers to her nipples.
“Nothing.” She giggled. “Nothing. I swear. I’m happy. I can’t remember ever feeling this happy before.”
He kissed her chin. “Happy is good. Want to get happier?”
She swiveled her hips, catching him in a needy place. “What are you offering?” She used her se
xy, sultry voice. The one her acting coach said would make men grab magazines with her photo and rush to the bathroom.
“This,” he responded in a kind of growly voice, which made her realize she could take lessons from him in sexy. His mouth moved from her breasts to her navel, and his tongue circled the slight curve of her lower belly. “Salty. Sweet. Like you.” He moved his mouth lower, placing tiny kisses in a straight line until he reached…
“Oh, Lord…” She arched into him and let her thighs fall wide. She enjoyed the feel of his tongue lollipopping her once then twice before shimmying out from under him. He rolled to his side, trying to follow her, but she pushed him to his back. “What do you taste like?” She wasn’t feeling subtle, and went straight for the holy grail that jutted up from dark curls below his flat abdomen.
Pre-cum dripped from the tip and she licked it up. “Mm. Delicious.”
His fingers threaded through her hair, tugging enough to sting. He pushed her face back down onto his cock in a dominant move that made her utterly wet and soft between her legs. She might be the one on top, but he was the one in control, and she dug it in a huge way.
Too many men kowtowed to her celebrity and deferred to her, letting her be a princess. Not Carlos. He treated her like a normal girl and had no problem ordering her around. At least in bed. The rest of the time, he pretty much treated her like a queen.
He held her head down, with his dick deep in her throat. The minute she used a touch of force to move her head back, his hand released. She looked at him under hooded eyes. “You like that?” she asked.
He nodded.
“You like holding me down? Ordering me to suck your dick?”
His eyes narrowed and in a fast move, he rolled out from under her and put her flat on her back. His hands held her wrists down on either side of her head, and his shins pressed her legs into the bed with her thighs spread apart. She was at his mercy, and she loved it.
“I like it,” he growled, “but you fucking love it.” He let his cock slide through her pussy lips once, then twice. “God, feel you. You’re so wet. Been aching for it, haven’t you?”
She nearly came at his dirty words.
“Haven’t you?” he repeated.
“Yes,” she said. “I’ve wanted you badly. I’ve missed you.”
“I made you come the hardest?” He teased her again with his bare hot dick pushing at her clit.
“Yes. Please, Carlos.”
“Please, what? Say it, Starr. You need my dick in you. Filling you up, pounding at your tight hot pussy. Every guy wants to fuck you, but you’re mine. I get to know what it feels like to have my dick in your sweet, sexy body. Every time I’m around you, I have to hide my boner. Especially you in a bikini. It should be illegal.”
People magazine had named her one of the sexiest stars under thirty to watch, but a compliment like that from Carlos meant a hell of a lot more than the words of strangers. She was about to reciprocate and tell him that she could stare at his abs and chest all day, especially when he wore his low-riding board shorts. Her tongue drooled, wanting to trace down his happy trail. But she got distracted before she could get the words out.
Somehow he’d gotten a condom on while holding her down. He nudged into her, giving her a second to adjust, then he slid home. She moaned at the invasion, because she’d been empty before. Wet and craving him, and he easily filled her. Her body closed around his dick, squeezing him inside her.
“Gonna fuck you.”
“Do it.”
He used his size against her, holding her wrists above her head in one hand. His free hand pulled her ass up to an almost impossible angle, and she was grateful for her daily Pilates. In this position, she could barely move and had no leverage other than to accept his body pounding into hers.
She touched him with the only body part at her disposal: her mouth. Her tongue darted out to taste his shoulder, and then he hit a sensitive spot, and her teeth instinctively bit down on the muscle.
It was wild, primal, and out of control. He took her body like a primitive being who had one purpose in life. To fuck.
Her orgasm started to build, but she fought it. It felt as if she’d been waiting for this moment forever. She didn’t want the glory to end too soon.
“Don’t fight it,” he said, his hips pistoning into her.
“Want it to last,” she said on a gasp.
“Come,” he ordered. “And I’ll make you do it again, and again.”
Oh. God. Helplessly, she shuddered around him in a seemingly endless orgasm.
She was a boneless puddle in the aftermath, helpless to move, and content to lie back. He allowed her to chill for a count of one, then two seconds, and then his hips shifted. His dick was hard and deep inside her.
She squeezed her eyes closed tight.
“Too much?” he asked, nudging back and forth.
She couldn’t answer.
“Hannah?” he asked sharply. “You with me?” He pulled out before she could answer.
Her eyelids flew open, and she reached for him. “Los, I’m with you. Don’t leave me.”
His smile was almost evil, but then she lost her view of him when he rolled her to her belly, and pulled her back to her knees. She felt him position himself behind her, and she pushed her butt back. His dick thrust back inside.
She felt every inch of him in this position. His fingers were tight on her hips as he held her in place and kept fucking her.
“Still with me?” he said, sounding as if he’d run up the stairs to their room before taking her in bed.
“Yes,” she said on a moan, and pushed back hard against him.
“Play with yourself,” he ordered. “My hands are busy, and I can’t reach.”
It didn’t feel as if her well-used pussy could feel any better, but she balanced on one forearm and reached below her belly with her right hand to finger her clit. She reached her swollen nub as he pushed forward. Her fingers grazed his shaft, and she reached farther back to push firmly on his sensitive spot behind his balls.
“Oh, Jesus,” he shouted.
“Like that?”
“Too much,” he said. He stilled his movements, and she heard his heavy breaths.
She toyed with his scrotum again, and he reached down to firmly move her fingers away from his balls back to her clit.
“Touch yourself, Starr. Make yourself come.”
“But…”
He nudged in slowly, moving his hips at a magical angle, and she lost her protest. He truly was going to make her come again, a feat no man had ever managed other than her vibrator, which didn’t count in her book.
Her orgasm hit again, this time in rolling waves that floated through her, rather than a tsunami crashing into her force. Distantly, she heard Carlos groan and move as he finished inside her. She rode it out, closing her eyes, and wanting the feeling never to end.
The next morning Hannah rolled over in bed, all her muscles protesting delightfully at being hard used the night before. Her arm stretched out on the soft sheets, and her hand came into contact with…nothing.
She struggled to sit up. “Carlos?” she called.
Silence.
Her feet hit the floor and she lurched toward the bathroom to go look for him, but then she noticed the bathroom door was wide open and no sounds of a shower emerged. She spun slightly, looking around, and saw a sheet of paper on the pillow where Carlos’s head was supposed to rest.
She snatched it and squinted, but her eyes and brain hadn’t connected enough to enjoy the challenge of reading yet. She blinked and concentrated on the scrawled note written on a small paper with the hotel letterhead.
Hannah,
Morning, baby. Didn’t want to wake you up. I went out to get us café and pastelitos. Be back soon.
Then there was a tiny drawing of a heart, which gave her a thrill because Los wasn’t a guy to draw hearts unless he meant it.
“You’re awake.” Carlos startled her, and she spun around, her ga
ze flying up from the note.
He was entering the room holding a small cardboard box in one hand and a large cup in the other. “You went for breakfast?” she asked, but her gaze was directly on his face. Her heart hammered as she wondered what she’d see in his expression today. The entire week she’d paid him to be her date, he’d had a carefully constructed mask.
The mask had vanished, and in its place were warm eyes looking at her as if she were the best thing he’d ever seen.
“Room service here is pretty good, but their coffee doesn’t compare,” he said, holding out the steaming cup. She reached for it and took a sip.
“Mmm. Delish.”
He snatched the cup back. “Get back in bed, Starr.”
“But…breakfast…”
He grinned, using his larger body to walk her backward toward the bed. “I’m going to use you as my plate.”
She laughed. “Are pastelitos full of carbs and sugar?”
“Yes, and you’re going to eat one, because they’re delicious. No green juice today. No chia slime pretending to be delicious.”
“I’ll eat your pastelito,” she said. “I’m done pretending. When we met, I was trying too hard to be someone I’m not. It didn’t make me happy.”
“It got you the movie role you wanted.”
She shrugged. “And nearly lost me you. When I got on set, they wanted me to be a party girl. The cast and crew assumed I was the kind of girl who’d go dancing and pick up men on what was supposed to be my wedding week. The kind of woman who would pay a man to be with her.”
Carlos held still, ducking slightly to look her dead in the eye. She felt the intensity of his stare down to her bones, but she held steady. “I’m not that woman. Not anymore. I realized if I’m famous, I want it to be the real me who got there. I want my name on the writing credits of my next album. I’m through singing someone else’s words. I have things to say, dammit.”
“Get in the bed,” Carlos ordered. He held a finger to her lips when she started to protest. “Get in the bed, because I need to show Hannah Hogarth how amazing she is.”
Oh.
Wordlessly, she slipped into the bed and held out her arms for him. He left the food on the nightstand and lowered himself onto her. As always, the connection between them was intense, made all the more intense because this time there were no barriers between them. “I like you, too,” she whispered.
