by Karen Booth
The look she threw my way, part pissed off, part smiling, warmed my entire body. "I'm not about to quit early. You're just going to have to wait."
"I swear, no one gets the way things are supposed to work around here."
Ridley scoffed and shook his head. "Whiting, I'd say that you've let success go to your head, but as I recall, you were always this full of yourself."
"You're one to talk, Archer. I'm guessing you keep magazine clippings of your own band above your bed at home." Unfortunately, my dig didn't make much of an impression. Ridley was watching Angie as she rummaged through her camera bag. He wouldn't stop staring. And it was making me something unpleasant rise up in me, a bitter feeling in my gut.
When Angie turned back, she appeared crestfallen. "There's nowhere to sit."
The couches were indeed all taken. My lap most certainly was not. I patted my thigh in invitation, acutely aware of the vibrations my own hand had just sent to my crotch. "Sit with me."
"Oh, come on, Graham. How many rock 'n' roll clichés can you possibly squeeze into one lifetime?" Ridley asked.
"Sod off, Archer. If you don't like it, you can go hang out with your own band."
Angie's eyes were as wide as dinner plates. "I can stand."
"Don't be ridiculous. Don't listen to him. Come here." I set my gaze on her. Come here, love. It’ll be okay. I witnessed her transformation, the way her eyes softened and went from unsure to eager. Hopefully I could still read her correctly. Hopefully it wasn't wishful thinking.
"Just for a minute. And only because I've been standing all day."
"That's the spirit." I grinned like a fool, but I couldn’t help it. Every step forward with Angie was a victory in its own right.
She sat in my lap a little too carefully, like she was about to sit on a balloon that she was afraid might pop. It was probably the right approach given that being around her had me so turned on. I’d learned during our kiss that my body’s response to Angie was as potent as ever. A little pressure or friction against my crotch and this could get embarrassing. At first, she put her hands in her lap, still holding on to her cup. It wasn't quite the romantic moment I'd hoped for, but I loved feeling her body weight on me, bringing me back to the days when we were so desperately in love with each other that we couldn't get enough. Did that mean we were on the right track? Had the song helped her see that I can’t live without her?
"Put your arm around me," I whispered, carefully placing my hand on her thigh. "I swear I won't bite unless you want me to."
Chapter Ten
Angie
Graham would have to ensnare me in his web with a mix of seduction and humor. He knew full well I had little defense for that. Part of me was glad he’d gone that route. He’d stripped away my ability to question every damn thing.
I looked down at him and he looked up at me—his eyes were so warm and inviting. There was no mistaking what he wanted. I studied his face, all high cheekbones and optimism, hoping to hell it really would be okay. The minute I put my arm around him, things were going to get serious, or at least as serious as they could get with the two of us in a crowded room.
Still, I couldn't deny that I wanted to do it. Everything in my heart was telling me to give him another chance. Give us another chance. The kiss from earlier had been more than an impetuous choice. It had shown me that we were capable of falling back into sync as if no time had passed at all. Physically, at least.
And so I did it. I put my arm around his shoulders. I even leaned against his chest. There was no way to sit in a guy's lap other than to do it like that. Otherwise, what was the point? His hand snaked around my hip, shifting my weight closer to him, his fingers rubbing through my dress.
"Okay?" he asked.
His lips were so close to mine, plump and perfect. Now that it was late in the day, he had a bit of stubble on his normally clean-shaven face. I had an inexplicable desire to rub my hand across it. "Yes. I'm good."
"This is nice to see," Nigel said. "Does this mean you two have worked out your differences?"
I looked down my nose at him, enduring an intense moment of eye contact. "Not exactly. We're focusing on being friends."
He stuck out his lower lip. "It feels like more than that to me." His voice was low and husky, barely audible above China Girl.
"Well, you did almost ask me to marry you, today," I whispered. "No wonder you feel that way."
His head dropped to one side. "Cut me some slack. I'm doing my best to keep up with you. This wasn't really how I saw this going."
He wasn't the only one struggling to keep up, and as for things not going according to plan, I was now officially making up everything as I went, which was not the way I preferred to do things. I planned. Always.
"Do you want to get out of here?" he asked.
I knew precisely what the question meant, especially with the way his hand was swirling circles on my hip and his other hand had found my thigh. It felt as if everything and everyone in the room was on pause, all talking and music becoming a low hum. "Out of here, out of here?"
Without warning, Ridley bolted up from his seat. "I have to say something. Angie Dawson, you are a lovely girl and he's a bastard." He held out his hand. "Come on. Come with me now and I'll get you out of here."
I instinctively leaned into Graham even more. "Come on, Rid. Cut it out. You're pissed."
"I've only had a few glasses of champagne. I'm not pissed." He flipped his hair from his forehead. His eyes were wild and scary. "I….I…I love you."
Graham got out of his seat so quickly I nearly fell to the floor, although he did hold on to me. "Out. Now. You talk to her ever again and I'll smash your face in."
My pulse raced and not in a good way. Ridley was scaring the shit out of me. This too closely resembled what it had been like the first time I tried to break up with Bad Brad. All I wanted at that moment was to get the hell out of there.
Chris stepped between them and looked at Ridley. "You should probably go, Rid."
"I won't leave without her," Ridley said, with an edge of desperation that made my stomach turn.
"Over my dead body. Chris, keep him away from us." Graham grabbed my hand and I stumbled across the room, waving goodbye to Gigi, who was clinging to Terence, both of them in shock.
We ran as fast as we could, down the long path, darting past golf carts and people. Thank God Ridley had enough sense not to chase us. He probably knew Graham would pound him into the ground. Graham and I took long, bounding strides, never letting go of each other’s hand. However much it might’ve looked like it, we weren’t running away. We were running toward something—time alone. Together. Graham had seen the skirmish with Ridley as our excuse to get away and he'd seized it. I’d always known he was smart.
We reached the final barricade and the long line of security guards standing sentry. There were a good three or four hundred people standing on the other side, several of which screamed when they spotted Graham.
"Now what?" I gasped, struggling to catch my breath.
"Bollocks. I hadn't thought about this." He rubbed his chin, looking around. "We could go back and fetch Reggie."
"Or we slip one of these guys some money and get him to get us through the crowd."
His eyes flashed as he smiled. He grabbed my shoulders and kissed me. "You're bloody brilliant." He reached into his back pocket and fished out several American bills. He picked the two biggest guys, standing to the far right. They were both pillars of muscle, their arms straining to burst through their T-shirts emblazoned with "Security". "There's fifty bucks in it for each of you if you can get my girlfriend and me across the street and down to the Liberty Hotel safely."
They looked at each other and shrugged, one of them taking the money. "You got it."
Wedged between the two security guards, we inched through the crowd. It was thrilling, but also a little terrifying. Sure, these guys were strong and knew what they were doing, but what if this mob of people decided they simply
had to have Graham? Girls shrieked for him, grabbing at him as he kept his arm around me, the side of his face pressed against mine, scratching at my cheek with his stubble. This was certainly not in the category of things I'd ever thought I'd do.
Once we got through the bulk of the crowd, we were able to pick up the pace and walk quickly down the street toward the hotel. We still needed the protection of the security guards, but once we were fifty meters or so away, Graham moved his arm from my shoulders and took my hand.
"Ready to make another run for it?"
"That's not necessary, sir. We're almost there," one of our two escorts said.
Graham snickered with mischief. "But then I don't get to feel like I rescued the princess." Before I knew what was happening, we were off running again. I laughed, night air filling my lungs, flying down the sidewalk, with Graham, free from the rest of the world. For a moment, at least.
The security guards at the hotel recognized Graham and quickly ushered us to the revolving glass door and into the safety of the Liberty Hotel lobby.
Graham pushed his hair from his face, his cheeks rosy from our run. Good God, he was handsome right now. Good enough to take to bed. And that was exactly my intention. I grabbed his hand. "Your room or mine?"
"Really? You mean it?" His chest heaved as he fought for air.
"Yes. I mean it."
"Mine. I have a lovely view and most importantly a beautiful bed."
"Sounds perfect."
We hurried through the lobby and onto the elevator, up to the ninth floor suites where the big stars were staying. Down the hall we ran once again, to the very end, and to his room. I stared at him as he opened the door, still not believing this was all happening, the exact opposite of what I'd envisioned would happen when I came to Philadelphia. He turned me around in a circle when we were inside, and we kissed—a sloppy, open mouth kiss with tongues winding around each other. So hot. So wet.
I yanked his T-shirt up over the top of his head. "I need to see you. I haven't seen you in so long and it's been killing me." My hands spread out over his glorious chest, completely smooth and silky, not even the slightest bit of hair. He was indeed more muscular than he’d been the last time I’d been lucky enough to see him without a shirt. I was too impatient to take my time, but I made a mental note to later explore his torso with my fingers, trace them down his midline and outline each muscle along the way. My lips were so eager to touch his skin, and I kissed his shoulder, inching south until I flicked my tongue against his nipple. He groaned. I had to smile. He'd always loved that.
"You need to see me? I need to see you." He reached down to the hem of my dress and lifted it straight up, taking his time, being the usual gentlemanly Graham. When the garment was gone, he gazed at me, hand landing on my shoulders as he slipped my bra straps lower. "You are so stunning. I'd forgotten how stunning you really are."
Goose bumps raced over the surface of my skin, everything between my thighs now feeling hot and needy, all while I felt lighter, like a burden had been lifted. However uncertain I was of myself at times, I knew this part, with Graham, perfectly. I pressed my stomach to his and cupped his face with one hand, kissing him, while the other hand went to his crotch and quickly found what I wanted—his rock hard cock.
Graham gasped. "God, Ang. You haven't touched me like that in forever."
No, I hadn’t. "You’re not the only one who’s had to wait. Now take off my bra. Please."
He unclasped it and I ruffled it down my arms. He cupped my breasts with his hands, lifting them as high as they would go, licking and sucking my nipples, going from one to the other. I arched my back to be closer to him, rubbing my crotch against his. I'd underestimated just how badly I needed him It felt like my body was on fire.
I stepped backward to the bed and Graham followed, reaching behind me and yanking back the covers. I sat on the edge of the mattress and tugged his hips toward me, letting him know that I wanted him to stand. I unbuttoned and unzipped his trousers, then gently slipped my fingers inside the waistband of his plaid boxers. My breath hitched as I dragged them past his hips. He was just as magnificent as I remembered, and he was so ready for me that I worried he might not be able to handle everything I wanted from him, but I figured I at least had to try. Plus, we had all night.
I took his cock in my hand, stroking the silky skin that covered his incredibly hard shaft. I rubbed my thumb back and forth across the ridge at the bottom of the tip. He knocked his head back and let out a heavy sigh. "That feels so good, Ang. Don't stop."
I dropped my head and slipped him into my mouth, sucking softly on the tip, swirling my tongue around the swollen head, my hand pumping his length with a steady rhythm. I slipped my hand closer to his body and took more of him in my mouth, as far as I could go, and then I swallowed, hard, several times, knowing my throat would close down on him. I could feel him getting even harder in my mouth. That was the best feeling—knowing I could do that to him.
I returned to the head of his cock, enveloping it with my lips, stroking his length with my hand, swirling my tongue around the tip, sucking softly while huffing hot breath against his skin. Focusing on him for a while had been good for me, but the second I took him out of my mouth, I realized just how badly I needed him to touch me. My clit was hot and aching inside my panties. I had to be incredibly wet.
I walked back across the bed with my elbows then laced my hands together and placed my arms above my head, the sheets crisp and cool beneath my overheated skin. I needed him to know how much I trusted him at that point. I needed him to know that for me, there were no reservations. Not anymore. I not only knew how he felt about me now, but how he’d felt about me while we were apart. The song had shown me that.
"You're bloody unbelievable, Ang. I have to have you right now."
He put a knee on the bed and shimmied my panties down my legs, flinging them across the room when they were done. I already knew he was about to reciprocate. Graham had always loved to go down on me and I always enjoyed every minute of it. How could I not? He knew exactly what to do.
He kneeled between my legs, pressed his hands against my upper thighs and spread me open. Easing down onto his stomach, his fingers separated my swollen folds. I gasped from the touch, but then his finger grazed my clit and I thought I might this might end up being the quickest trip to orgasm ever. My head jerked up and I moaned as he rocked his fingers back and forth across the tight bud. He knew my body as well as he knew his own. That was why we'd fit together so perfectly. Why had I ever thought to leave him? Being strong was one thing. Having zero tolerance for mistakes was another. Being so swift to judgment, so blooming shortsighted was something else. He’d made a mistake and I’d run away. When what I really should have done that night was stand in the rain and fight it out with him, hash out our problems and try to find a way to forgive.
He lowered his head and his tongue lapped my skin, caressing softly, up and down. He slid a finger inside me and then two, curling them into the spot that made me feel like I might explode. This was so much better than some random hook-up. We had the excitement and thrill of something new, but he knew exactly what I liked, how I liked it, when to do it. I couldn't possibly ask for anything more. The pressure was building quickly in my hips, coiling tightly in my belly. As satisfying as it was to have him doing what he was doing, I really just wanted him inside me. I wanted him to fuck me. I wanted to feel his cock inside me after a ridiculously long wait.
"I need you, Graham. Now. If you don't have a condom I'm going to be right annoyed with you."
He lifted his head and smiled, then pressed a kiss to my lower belly. "Of course I do. But aren't you on the pill?"
I shook my head. "No. I went off it after we broke up. No real point in it, was there?"
He fetched his trousers from the floor and pulled a condom out of his wallet. "Does that mean there's been nobody since me?"
I laughed quietly as it dawned on me that I'd basically given up when I'd broken up w
ith Graham, even when I'd convinced myself that I was being strong. Some part of me had known there wasn't much point in me waiting for anyone else. There would never be anyone else. "I'm sure you'd love to hear that, but there was one guy. One time. Nothing special. Believe me." I wasn't quite sure why I had any need to reassure him. It wasn't like he hadn't explored his options since we'd been apart.
He stood and listened, then smiled with relief. "Oh, okay."
I sat up and took the condom from his hand. "Come here, handsome. Let me put that on you so I can have you inside me." I scooted back down to the foot of the bed and rolled it on him as he threaded his hands through my hair. "Can I ask you a question?"
"Of course. Anything."
I returned to the middle of the mattress and stretched out on my back, inviting him exactly where he belonged. "When did you write A Lifetime?"
He settled his knees between mine, pressed one hand next to my hip, then used his other hand to guide himself inside me. Inch by inch he came inside, his eyes glued to me. "Four months ago. About the middle of our break-up. I never got over you. I tried to, but I couldn't do it."
I struggled to breathe as he filled me so fully and I tried to catch up with what he'd just said. "Really? That whole time?"
He took long, careful strokes, pressing into my pelvic bone when he was as far as he could go, creating just enough pressure to make me squirm. "Yeah. What'd you think? That this was a recent thing?" His voice strained at the end of his words. He had to be close.
My lower belly was taut, wound tight, pressure building like crazy, so fast and hot. Graham's thrusts became more forceful, making my breasts jiggle. The back of my head got hot from the friction of my hair against the sheets. My mind, however, was a swirl of incomprehensibly lovely thoughts. His love for me wasn't a recent revelation. It'd been there all along.
The heat was threatening to overtake me, so hot that it read as flashes of white before my eyes. I raised my head and kissed him—a slow, soft, sensuous kiss, where our tongues explored and wound together so perfectly. I could have lived forever in that kiss.
