Satellite of Love

by Christa Maurice

  She gave him a long suffering eye roll. “That looks like a Russian Orthodox church. I’m willing to bet they don’t marry people who walk in off the street. Even if they did, this isn’t Vegas. It takes time to get a marriage license in this state. Though I have to say, running off and getting hitched would be a lot easier than getting my parents in the same room together.”

  “Then let’s go to Vegas. Instead of all that other stuff we were going to do after the radio show, we can hop a flight to Nevada and get married.”

  She patted his leg and sighed. “No. Now I think I got lost down here once. Make a right.”

  Bear turned in the direction she indicated. His breathing had gotten a lot easier in the last few seconds. “Why is it going to be hard to get your parents together?”

  “They hate each other. They don’t even live in the same state.”

  “Really?” She said it so matter of factly, she might have been talking about the weather. “What happened?”

  “They stayed together until I graduated high school. Then they put the house up for sale and all three of us went in different directions.”

  “That sucks.”

  “Believe me, it was better than the previous fifteen years. I was the only kid I knew whose parents had separate bedrooms. You need to make, ah—” She glanced in both directions. “Make a right here too. At the next main intersection we can take Ninth back to the highway.

  “After that you’d still be willing to get married?”

  “I don’t plan to make the same mistakes my parents made.”

  “What did they do wrong?”

  “Got trapped into marriage with an unplanned pregnancy and then stayed together for the child. It would have been better for all of us if they’d split up.” She reached over and patted his arm. “No unplanned kids for you and even with the planned ones, if things go south we won’t be staying together for their sake because I can tell you from first hand experience that does not work.” She said it with a smirk, but it left him cold anyway.

  How to answer that one? At Ninth Street, he followed the signs to the highway. He really didn’t know her at all. “Hey, baby?” he said as he pulled into the radio station parking lot. A couple dozen people hung around the door.

  As she tore her gaze from the crowd to look at him, her expression changed from fearful to concerned. “What is it?”

  He took her hand. “I just want you to know I’m gonna take care of you. No matter what happens.”

  Her fingers were light and cold on his cheek. Not at all reassuring. “It’s okay, Michael. I can take care of myself.”

  “I don’t want you to have to.” The mob had started for the car. A security guy headed for his side of the car. If he didn’t hurry up, he wasn’t going to be able to stay between her and them. He jumped out of the car and hurried around the front to her door. The security guy met him there. “Keep track of her, would ya?” Bear asked before turning to the fans. Escorted to the door, he answered about eighty questions, signed at least a hundred autographs and had his picture taken a hundred and fifty times. Inside the station, an intern gushed all over him and pulled him toward the recording booth while the security guy took Maureen someplace else. He hadn’t even had time to give her a kiss.

  * * * *

  “So how was your visit to the radio station?” Michael asked.

  “Informative.” Maureen clasped her hands. She had no idea why a twenty-minute live radio spot had taken two hours to do, but it had. While she waited, she’d tried to learn about popular music without raising too much suspicion. She was pretty sure she’d failed on both fronts. What she’d managed to figure out didn’t make any sense. “Why is it musicians can’t spell?”

  “I don’t know. Not paying attention in school, I guess.”

  The elevator doors slid open. The bellboy, carrying their two small bags, led the way down the opulent hall to a room, swiped the lock and pushed open the door. With a professional snap, he put down a ledge in the closet and set their bags on it. Then he turned to Michael with the key card held in a none too subtle palm.

  She wandered deeper into the room. Decorated in blues and greens, it was by far the biggest hotel room she’d ever been in. The bed alone appeared to be about the size of her living room. She pushed aside the sheers and peered out the window. Their room overlooked the city’s main square, probably the best view in the place.

  Michael wrapped his arms around her waist and buried his nose in her hair. “So what do you want to do now?”

  “I get the impression you have a plan.” His hard length digging into her warmed her. Being wanted this much was its own aphrodisiac.

  “Hmm, maybe a short term one.”

  Dropping the curtain, she turned to wrap her arms around his neck. Immediately, he leaned in to kiss her, teasing her mouth open with such gentle heat that she trembled. His flattened palms ran up her back.

  “I missed you today,” he murmured.

  “You were right down the hall.”

  “I know. I might as well have been in another country.”

  She tangled her fingers through his hair. “Well, we’ll have to make up for lost time then.”

  He scooped her off the floor and carried her to the enormous bed. Laying her down, he stripped off his shirt. She reached for the buttons of her blouse, but he caught her hands. “Nope, I like to open my own presents.”

  “I’m a gift now?” The heat of the compliment rushed through her limbs.

  “You were a gift the moment I met you.” He unbuttoned her blouse with deft fingers and smoothed his hand across her belly.

  As his lips met hers again, she closed her eyes and clutched his powerful shoulders. Nothing mattered beyond him. Not his friends or his brother. Not the weird looks the intern gave her or the DJ calling her beautiful when he’d never laid eyes on her. Nothing mattered.

  He slid between her legs, the rough texture of his jeans chafing against hers. His member strained against the material. Her body opened for him, arching for his touch. He unhooked her bra with one hand and cupped her breast. “You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.”

  “Thank you. Are you planning on doing more than looking?”

  “Maybe.” He brushed his thumb across her nipple, sending a spark through her.

  Maureen twisted and rolled him onto his back so she was straddling him. She ran her hands up his tight abs. “Maybe?”

  “You have other plans?”

  She brushed her lips along his skin, tasting the rich, salty flavor of him. Working her way down his chest, she traced the dips and hollows of his flesh with her fingertips. His body was so delightfully fine tuned. Every inch of him, sculpted and tight. Fingering the button on his jeans, she looked up.

  He had his hands behind his head, watching her. “Don’t let me stop you,” he said lightly.

  She sat up. “Oh come on. By now you should be putty in my hands.”

  “Who says I’m not?”

  “That smug expression on your face.”

  “Hmm, I’ll have to try harder. You should have worn the leopard print bra again.”

  She swatted his arm.

  “Hey, there’s no need to get violent.”

  “Unless that’s what you like,” she said, crawling over him. “Maybe you’ve developed some depraved tastes.”

  “Depraved? Sounds fun.”

  She couldn’t help giggling, and brushed her fingers along his cheek, enjoying the flush she’d raised.

  He reached up and slipped his hand behind her neck, drew her down on him. Her body pressed to his, flesh to flesh, she explored him, raising a moan that vibrated through both of them. He unbuttoned her jeans and slid his hand inside them and between her legs. His fingers found the throbbing knot of her need.

  “Ah! Michael,” she moaned.

  “I’m not just looking anymore.”

  “You’re a bad boy.” She rocked against his hand.

  “I know.” Turning her onto her back, he
pulled her jeans down. He reached into his pocket and tossed a condom onto her stomach. “Open this up, would ya?”

  While he yanked off his jeans, she ripped open the foil. The sight of that beautiful body made her heart swell. That a wonderful man like him could want her. That he could look at her the way he was looking at her now… She placed the condom over his swollen head and rolled it down his length, gaze locked with his. His eyes were dark and his breathing heavy. Lying back, she held out her arms. Her heart couldn’t wait for the moment his skin touched hers. He stretched out over her, kissing her with sweet softness. His hot breath caressed her skin as he sunk into her.

  The richness of being filled by him wrung a cry from her. She dug her nails into his back as he thrust deeper and deeper. Every movement a sweet rush. She met each thrust, winding tighter and tighter until she snapped, gasping. Michael groaned and shuddered, collapsing on top of her.

  In the glowing aftermath, she stroked his hair, cherishing these moments in his arms. The weight of his body on hers was wonderful. He nestled his face into the curve of her neck, breathing deeply. Eventually the ferocious desire to be with him every second had to go away, or at least lessen, didn’t it? This insane desire to never leave the bed. To stay wrapped up in him forever.

  “What am I going to do without you?” he whispered, kissing her throat.

  “What do you mean?” Tears pooled in the corners of her eyes, so she closed them hoping to stem the flow.

  “When I have to go back. No chance of you quitting your job so you can come home with me, is there?”

  To keep an irrational yes from popping out, she bit her lip. In this second, she would quit her job and go anywhere he wanted.

  But the kids. Her house. Her life. Everything she’d made for herself. She couldn’t leave that behind. Not for a man. Not even for Michael.

  “I didn’t think so,” he said. He rolled off her and propped himself up on one elbow. Brushing her cheek with the backs of his fingers, he said, “Boy, did you get sweaty.”

  Maureen laughed, hoping he didn’t notice her pained rasp. Not all of what he wiped away was sweat. “You’re quite a workout.”

  “I’ll have to make sure I feed you well. Speaking of which, we never got to have lunch.”

  “No, we were busy being lost.” She laced her fingers through his. She was still leaning toward staying in this bed until they died of starvation, but couldn’t figure out how to present it to him so he’d go for it. The last thing she wanted was to get up and get dressed. That would severely limit the amount of his bare flesh she could get her hands on.

  “Are you hungry? Our dinner reservations aren’t for hours.” He cupped her breast. She shuddered. Was his touch actually better now that she knew who he was or was she just imagining it? “We could venture out for food or order room service.”

  “I’m fine.” That was an exaggeration. She wasn’t fine. Half of her was already mourning that he was leaving in three days. The other half was consumed with figuring out how to keep as much of him as possible.

  “Are you sure?” He trailed his hand down her belly.

  “Positive.” She put her hand over his to hold it against her skin. If only it were so easy to hold him. To catch him and cling to him.

  “Didn’t you say you didn’t have Easter Break yet?”

  She had to swim through layers of her conniving to decipher his question. “What?”

  “Easter Break, is that over?”

  “No, it’s in two weeks. Everyone’s climbing the walls.”

  “Come to LA.” His hand tensed, sending a thrill of pleasure through her. “You weren’t planning on going to visit anyone else, were you? Come see me.”

  “Aren’t you going to be on tour?” She couldn’t keep her eagerness out of her voice. How tough would it be to go on tour with him? Or would she just be in the way?

  “No, rehearsals. I’m going to be busy a lot of the time, but I’ll be home every night. And you can meet everybody.”

  “Come visit?”

  “Yes.” He caught her hands and pulled them over her head. His eyes were bright and excited. “It’ll be great. Say you’ll come. I’ll make it worth your while.”

  “I bet you will.” Maureen licked her lips.

  Laughing, he rolled off the bed. “I’ll call Jody right now and get your tickets set up.”

  She reached for him, but missed. He was already flipping open his phone. Go visit. Spend a week with him in Los Angeles.

  “You’ll have to visit me on tour too,” he said, focused on the phone. “You have summers off. You can travel with us for a couple of weeks. It’s kinda boring, but at least we’ll be together.”

  Hurricane Michael.

  7

  Bear squeezed Maureen’s hand. Next door to the hotel stood the city’s premier shopping galleria. Four floors of the very best shops in the state. Marble flooring, gilt scrollwork, a dancing fountain keyed to classical music on the bottom most floor. It was the best he could do under the circumstances. After making love, he’d wanted to take her out and show her off. Unfortunately, there wasn’t anyone to show her off to. Most of the people here were women whose watches cost more than Maureen’s house, and what was the point of showing off his girlfriend to them anyway? They weren’t the target audience.

  That was in California, prepared to hate her, if Marc had his way. But the guys in SendDown weren’t already against her and they’d be meeting her tomorrow night. He stopped in front of a shop window. The display mannequin wore a short silver dress that hooked around the neck with a silver chain. “I could see you in that.”

  “Really?” Her pretty pink mouth quirked into a Billy Idol-like sneer. “I can’t.”

  “Okay, how about I say it a different way.” He draped his arm over her shoulders. “Can I see you in that?”

  She stared up at him, chewing her lip. “I don’t think I can afford to even be looking at that dress in the show window.”

  “I can.” He grinned. “I have plastic and I’m not afraid to use it.”

  “You want to buy me a dress.”

  “Sure. If it looks good and you like it.” He brushed his nose across her cheek. “Besides, if I buy it, I get to take it off you.”

  She giggled. “Okay, I’ll try it if it makes you happy.”

  Bear steered her inside the store. There wasn’t much to it. A pair of ornate arches leading to smaller rooms on either side. A few mannequins here and there. No racks of clothes anyplace. Nothing as crass as a register. An older lady in a neat white suit took one look at them and disappeared though a curtain at the back. A second later a young blond with long skinny legs encased in dark wash jeans walked out. Her exasperated expression evaporated the moment she set eyes on him.

  “Bear D’Amato.” She gasped. Her gaze flickered to Maureen and back to him. “Oh my God. What can I help you with?”

  “I want to see my girlfriend in that dress you have in the window.” He cocked his head in the direction of the dress.

  “Your girlfriend. Oh. Absolutely.” The blond fluttered her hands, stumbling backward toward an archway. “If you’ll step this way, I’ll show you to the viewing salon. Miss, the dressing room is right through that curtain and I’ll bring the dress to you. Mr. D’Amato you can...um, there’s a sofa for you to wait on—and coffee— Or I can send someone to get you...something.”

  Once they’d passed through it, the clerk untied a curtain, shielding them from the main store.

  “I’ll be fine.” Bear gave Maureen a squeeze before letting her go and sat down on the couch. Then shooting him a doubtful look, she disappeared behind the red velvet curtain.

  A few minutes later, when she reappeared in the dress, she still looked dubious. Hot, but dubious. The clerk had put her in a pair of matching strappy silver heels that gave her a lovely chewing gum walk, but didn’t erase the uncertainty on her face. “Do you have any idea how much this costs?” she asked.

  “I’m pretty sure I don’t care.”
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  “It feels like I’m naked.”

  He shifted, trying to control the response that image produced. Good thing the hotel was only a block away. “If you’re not comfortable in it, we don’t have to get it.”

  The clerk cleared her throat. “There are a few other things that would look good on you in the back, if you’d like to see them.”

  “You started this,” she said to him with a shrug.

  “Let’s see what you have then.”

  “You can— You can have a seat and I’ll bring them out... Unless you wanted to change back into your clothes first...I can wait... Are you sure you don’t want something to drink? Coffee? Soft drink?” The clerk twisted her hands together.

  “I’m fine,” Maureen said. “Michael?”

  “I’d be better if you were over here.” He patted the seat next to him.

  The clerk gave a delighted sigh as Maureen walked over and settled next to him, then scurried off to collect the other options. Bear traced his fingertips over Maureen’s bare back, and she crossed her legs. Her gaze slid sideways toward him, cool and hot at the same time. “You’re being bad again.”

  “I know. Are you going to make me stand in the corner?”

  She raised an eyebrow. “Depends on how bad you are.”

  The clerk came out, pushing a wooden rack with a bunch of dresses on it. Instead of watching the fashion show, he watched Maureen. She eliminated a couple of things out of hand as too racy and a couple more as too expensive. Within a few minutes, she’d narrowed it down to three, only one of which was backless. The old cow who had dismissed them when they’d walked in, came to stand at the back of the room while the clerk put together complete outfits for Maureen to take into the dressing room. When he glared at the old bat so she would go away, she only returned the look.

  “Do you mind?” he asked.

  She snorted and flounced out.

  Maureen returned, wearing a fluffy blue and purple thing. Its raggedy hem fell to her knees and, though backless, it left too much up to the imagination. “You don’t like it,” she said.