“I can’t believe you somehow ended up getting Travis a better gift than me.” He got Travis a vintage Counting Crows record. I got Travis a bottle of fifty-year-old whiskey. Travis smiled and hugged me when I handed my gift to him. He screamed like a girl and did a weird dance when Jake gave him his gift. Even Jane’s engraved pocket watch was unable to beat Jake’s gift. Jane pulled me to the side and asked me if Jake was trying to destroy her marriage. “Jane’s says that the next time Travis gets her a bad gift for her birthday, she’s coming to you to make up for it.”
He smiles. “Just glad he liked it. Didn’t really know the guy, so I just had to work with the little I knew. Do your friends have a problem with me?”
The beer in my hand goes still, and I pull it out. “What?”
“Don’t look. But Heather keeps looking at me like the bodyguard of a mob boss, and Violet hasn’t stopped smiling at me since I greeted her at the door. As for Ava, she spent three minutes telling me how she knows how to clean up a crime scene so perfectly the cops wouldn’t find a single shred of evidence. It was like I was in a weird episode of The Sopranos.”
“Sorry.” I cringe inside as I imagine him having to deal with all of that. “They can be a little overprotective of me at times.”
“That’s a joke, right? Them thinking you need protection. You’re scarier than the whole lot of them. Except maybe Violet. I don’t trust the smiling ones.”
Him calling me scary is a strange compliment, mostly because I seem to like it. “Don’t mind Violet. I think she has a crush on you. And sorry about all the harassing. Normally, they reserve that for people I’m in a relationship with, but I’ve told them this is a just a friends with benefits deal.”
He gives me a strange look and for a while says nothing. “At least you admit we’re friends,” he finally says.
I frown, wondering what he means.
“You want another one?” He points at my plate.
I glance down at it, surprised to find it empty. I wolfed down that burger without even knowing.
“I guess. I don’t know if I should be eating so much meat.” I raise a hand before he can mention it. “And yeah, I heard it that time. And I don’t care.” I lean in toward him and give him a coy smile. “There is just something about your meat that makes me oh so . . . hungry,” I finish on a breathy whisper.
His eyes become hot on me. “Careful there, little kitty. There is only so much a man can take before he is forced to react.”
“Jake,” Travis calls him. “We picking teams for football. You want in?”
“Sure. Just gotta get Katie her meat first, and I’ll come over.”
“Great, you’re on my team.”
“Come on,” Joe, who is the other captain, grumbles.
Jake grins at me and then walks to grill to get me my burger. I watch him walk away and I begin to count the minutes to when I can get him all to myself. One hour. If we are not out of there in one hour, then I am dragging him to Jane’s bathroom.
Chapter 22
I get out of my car and trudge up my driveway. I just spent the last two days in one of the most grueling recording sessions ever. I’m tired as hell and just looking forward to crawling into bed. I’m almost at the door when I hear my phone buzz in my jacket. I reach for it and see Jake’s face on the screen. I consider ignoring it, but the recording session has taken close to three days, and apart from a quick chat with him the night before, I haven’t spoken to him. I miss him. So much I forget that I’m not looking my best and slide the green bar to the right.
“Hey,” he says, grinning at me. “You done recording?”
“Yeah,” I reply, holding the phone as I fumble in my pocket for my keys. “What are you doing?”
“Painting,” he says, moving his phone so I can see the canvas behind him. Then he brings it back to his face. “You don’t look so good.”
“I’m tired as hell, and I smell like two days of sweat. Yeah, I don’t look good at all.”
He smiles. “Do you want me to come over?”
I immediately perk up at his question. A few seconds ago, I wasn’t sure I could make it to my door without falling over. Now, I’m considering having him over. I mean, it would have to be quick. Until I wake up, and then we can take our time. But I definitely want him to come. Then I remember I don’t look my best and sigh.
“I don’t know . . .”
“I’ll be there in fifteen minutes,” he simply says. “You don’t look too good.”
“Don’t worry,” I reassure him. “I’ll be fine. As sexy as you are and as much as I want to, I don’t think I can muster the energy to sleep with you tonight.”
“Fifteen minutes, Katie,” he just replies.
I stare at the screen of my phone. Then I retrieve my keys from my pocket, telling myself there is no way he’ll come. I already told him we’re not sleeping together tonight. Inside the house, I realize I’m much hungrier than I thought I was, and my hunger is stopping me from sleeping. I’m staring at the sorry state of the content of my fridge when I hear a knock at the door and wonder who’s there. I’m more than shocked when I see Jake’s form through the glass panel.
“You came?” I ask when I open the door.
“And I brought gifts,” he replies, lifting the box of pizza in one hand and the takeout bag in the other. He walks in, and I close the door behind him.
“God, you’re a lifesaver.” I reach eagerly for the box, surprised when he pulls it away. “What?”
“How about we go and sit down before you start grabbing at food?”
“Sorry, I’m just so hungry.”
He leads me to the kitchen and gets plates and napkins. I watch hungrily as he sets them on the table, telling myself that he’ll be done with his ceremony soon enough and I can pounce on the food.
“So, how was it?” he asks, pushing a plate bearing a slice of piping hot pizza toward me. “Careful,” he adds when I reach for it too eagerly.
I nod and take a bite of the food, blowing with my mouth to cool it down. “How was what?”
“Your session.” He reaches into his takeout bag and brings out a bottle of wine. “I’ve always wondered what it would feel like to be there when a song is being made. Imagine what it would be like to be in the room when Paige and Plant wrote ‘Stairway to Heaven’.”
Considering I just spent the last three days dealing with an anal-retentive producer, an immature sound engineer, and songwriters who have as much as ingenuity as a chicken, I’m not as starry-eyed as him.
“It’s all bullshit,” I mutter as I reach for my second slice of pizza.
He smiles and pushes my glass of wine to me. “You need a bath and more than a few hours of sleep.”
“Sorry,” I apologize sheepishly.
“Nah, I know how cynical artists can be about their art.”
I suddenly remember that he left his work to be with me. There’s even a smudge of paint on the bridge of his nose. And I haven’t even been polite to ask him about it.
“Oh god, I forgot to ask about your painting. I’m so sorry.”
“It’s just a painting,” he replies offhandedly. “It’ll keep until I have the time for it. And unlike you, the only anal-retentive thing I have to deal with is my brush.”
I laugh out loud. “I don’t suppose your brush spent five minutes telling you how you’re messing the last note on your song.”
“Yeah, it tried that, and I just changed brushes.”
I chuckle. “I wish I could do that, but Chuck is really good at what he does.”
“I know the type.” He smiles at me as he picks an olive from the top of the pizza and throws it into his mouth. “The fact that they are right just makes you even more pissed off at them.”
“You do know the type.”
He nods. “Finish your food. I’ll go and draw you a bath.”
I watch him walk to my bedroom upstairs and turn back to my pizza, emotions I’m not ready to identify running through me. A few m
inutes later, I walk upstairs and find him testing the temperature of the water in the bathtub.
“Perfect,” he says when he turns around and sees me. “Get naked.”
“I don’t think I should get into a tub after I just ate as much as I did. Besides, I don’t want to fall asleep and drown.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll be right here to stop you from drowning.” He pours scented bathing oil in the water, and the smell of lavender fills everywhere. “Come on, you’ll love it.”
I contemplate it for a while. In the end, I can’t deny I want to and begin to take off my clothes. When I’m done, I walk forward and slowly lower myself into the tub. The sound I make as I settle in the water is as close to orgasmic I’ve ever sounded without actually having an orgasm. He’s right; the temperature was perfect.
“Lean back,” he says, and I immediately do as he says.
So far, he’s not failed me. He begins to massage my shoulders, his strong fingers slowly working at invisible knots on my neck. I moan when he finds a particularly stubborn lump and he works it loose. It’s a good thing he’s there with me, or I would melt into the tub the way I’m feeling.
“I’ve missed you,” I say as he continues massaging my neck.
“Yeah?”
I nod. “I even thought about popping over at your place yesterday. Thankfully, I have the next few days off. We can spend as much time as you want together.” I give him a sultry look. “You could even get naked right now and get in here with me, start this vacation early.”
I turn around to catch him grin before he replies, “As much as I want that, I don’t think now is the time. You’re going to soak here, and after, we’ll put you to bed, and you’ll have that sleep I can hear in your voice. That’s a better way to start your vacation.”
I open my mouth to protest and end up fighting a yawn. “Okay,” I growl when I find him laughing at me. “Hey, how about we do it?”
“I just told you why we are not.”
“No. I mean, why don’t we go on a vacation?” I look at him. “We could fly over to Italy tomorrow. Rent a beach house. Go swimming in the ocean. Ride jet skis. Just goof around for a few days. I swear, I can feel myself getting better just thinking about it.” I suddenly realize that he has a life of his own, and going on vacations with the woman he’s just banging may be more than what he’s looking for. “You don’t have to . . .”
“Sure,” he replies.
I turn around so fast water spills out of the bathtub. “What?”
“Let’s go to . . . Where did you say again?”
“Italy. Or Fiji. We can go anywhere you want to in the world.”
He shakes his head. “Where do you want to go?”
I want to tell him I don’t care where it is as long as he’s there with me. But I know that would just make him run away from me.
“Let’s go to Italy,” I say instead.
“All right.”
I turn around and lean into his hand, loving the feel of it on my skin. “Tell me about your new painting.”
* * *
I open my eyes and realize I’m in my bed. I’m naked with the covers pulled over me but have no memory of leaving the bathtub the night before. The last thing I remember is listening to Jake talk about his new painting. I lift my head. Jake is on the bed next to me. He has one leg on the floor and one hand under his head. I think back to him bringing food for me the night before, running a bath for me, massaging me, and then carrying me from the bathtub and bringing me to bed, and I can no longer deny it. I’m falling in love with my one-night stand. I should wake him and tell him that he’ll need to stop doing all these things if he ever plans on leaving me some day. He should stick with just giving me earthshattering orgasms.
But I don’t do that. Instead, I lift the covers and use them to cover him too. Then I curl into his body and spoon against him, loving the heat of him against me.
Chapter 23
“You’re going to Italy with Jake?”
I wince as Jane’s scream echoes in my ear. “We’re just spending a few days.”
“Katie.” Jane’s using her treading-on-needles voice. “I hope you know what you’re doing. No one goes on vacation with the guy they are just supposed to be banging. Do you think what’s between you and Jake is more than just banging buddies?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. People travel with their banging buddies all the time.”
“Yeah, but you don’t. You don’t let a man into your life this much unless he’s more than just a warm body to you. You know what’s happening, right?”
I know what she’s talking about, but I prefer to pretend I don’t. “No, I don’t.”
“You love him.”
I sigh. “I think I do.”
Jane makes a sympathetic sound. “Oh sweetie. Are you going to tell him?”
“And lose him?” I shake my head. “No. I’m just going to keep it status quo for as long as I can.”
“Katie, you know that’s a bad idea, right?”
“I do,” I reply honestly. “But between facing the heartbreak of losing him now and dealing with it later, I vote later. Besides, no one ever died of a heartbreak, right?”
Jane doesn’t say anything. She doesn’t need to. She can hear it in my voice that I have made up my mind. I’m a moth, drawn to the flames that are Jake, and no warning can change my course.
Chapter 24
I watch Jake climb out of the water and walk toward me on the beach. Droplets of water sluice down his naked chest, and I immediately want to put my hands on him, or maybe my tongue, lick off every drop. But I don’t do any of the above. I don’t want him to think I’m a sex maniac or something. I mean, this is our third day in the private beach house I rented, and we’ve been having sex pretty much nonstop since we arrived. It doesn’t take much to start it. One look from him, me licking cream off my spoon, waking up in bed together, the both of us taking a swim together. It doesn’t matter. All I know is that he always meets my hunger with a hunger of his own, and I’m at least comforted by the fact that I’m not the only one affected. But we are flying back home tomorrow, and I’m already starting to wonder if I shouldn’t convince him to stay here one more day. Or maybe forever. I mean, with the money I have and my investment, we can do it.
“You’ve gotten past the first chapter of that thing?”
I glance at the novel I have been pretending to read while I watch him swim. “I would’ve finished it by now if someone managed to keep his hands off me.”
He grins. “Warned you about that when you were packing all those bikinis for this trip.” He eyes the current bikini I’m wearing now, and I can see a gleam enter his eye. “Is this a new one?”
“Given that you’ve ripped every single one I’ve worn before now, what do you think?”
He sits on the beach mat next to me. “Hey, not my fault they make those things to be so damn flimsy. And not my fault you’re so damn sexy in them I can’t hold back.”
Oh, he held back plenty enough the last time we made love in the pool. It took almost half an hour before he allowed me to have my first orgasm and twice that long before the second. When I came out of the pool, my skin was all crinkly.
“Turn around and let me put sunscreen on your body before you get sunburned.”
“She said while rubbing her hands in glee at the thought of getting her hands on him one more time.”
I chuckle. “I think you mean he eagerly turned around, excited to have her hands on him again.”
I pick up the bottle of screen and squirt some on my hands. Rubbing my palms together, I begin to slather the cream on his body.
“I don’t want to go back tomorrow,” I blurt out. Shocked, I quickly try to save face. “I mean, I’m just enjoying myself so much I don’t want it to end now.”
Jake smiles sympathetically at me. “I know what you mean. Unfortunately, I’ve got a job to go to, and I don’t think I’ll still have it if I’m not at the club when
I said I would be there.”
“I know, I know,” I grudgingly admit. “Why do you still work at that bar though? I mean, your paintings are selling, and I know for a fact that you’d be selling even more if you’d release all those painting you have in storage.”
“Yeah, I don’t think anyone wants to see those. Some art isn’t meant for everyone.” He turns around so I can get to his back. “And I still work at the bar because I like working there. I’ve got friends there, and I love that feeling I get every two weeks when they pay me just enough to keep me coming back.”
“But that’s it. You don’t need to go back. It’s not like you plan to work there forever.”
“Hell no.”
“What do you want to do then?”
“What do I want to do when I stop pouring drinks at a bar?”
He turns around to look at me, and I realize we’re entering serious talk zone. For a moment, I think about stepping back and forgetting all about it. He seems reluctant to talk about it, and I know that this is dangerously close to breaking all the rules of sex vacation. But I’m too curious to know. Besides, he can refuse to answer if he doesn’t want to.
“Yes,” I reaffirm my question.
He seems to contemplate my question, as if wondering if he should talk to me about this.
“I don’t know. I guess I focus on my art. I’ve always wanted to own my own showroom.” He gives me a smile that barely hides the fact that he’s talking about something that really matters to him. “I’ve got a good eye, and I collect a little bit here and there. I paint some good piece myself. Some I think won’t necessarily fit into the aesthetic of most galleries. But they would in my showroom. I could have displays from upcoming artists I think have talent. You know, discover Van Gogh before he painted The Starry Night.”
“Then why don’t you do it?”
He turns to me, and I see the shade fall over his eyes as he raises his defenses again. “Why do you think? Because all of it costs money, time, experience, and a lot of money. I simply can’t afford it right now.” He stops me before I can talk. “And no, I’m not taking money from you. It’s my dream, and doing this on my own is part of the dream.”
Taming His Rockstar Page 12
