Love So Tender: Taking Care of BusinessPlay It Again, ElvisGood Luck Charm

by Stephanie Bond

  On second thought, why invite trouble by putting themselves within diving distance of a bed? They could talk down here where the atmosphere was less intimate and less comfortable. And she would be much more unlikely to instigate any kissing.

  “I didn’t have a chance to mention it the other night, but your store is great.” Brett scanned the wall of scaled-down movie posters. “You’ve got a better variety of merchandise here than the twenty vendors put together at the Elvis fest.”

  She could feel her guard slipping as she warmed to his words. How could a woman ignore all those tattooed muscles and masculine charm, too?

  “That’s because most places selling memorabilia are only interested in the stereotype. The vendors were all showcasing Hawaii Elvis instead of Heartbreak Hotel Elvis, or Army Elvis. And God forbid they highlight Gospel-singing Elvis.” She flipped on the light to the wide hardwood stairway leading to her apartment but was careful not to step any farther in that direction. “But he remains a legend because he was all of those things. An Everyman to five decades of music fans.”

  “You should have been his manager.” Brett pulled out a chair for her at the table where her séance group normally gathered.

  Relieved and possibly a little disappointed that his promise not to pursue any kisses seemed genuine, Alyssa slid into the seat while he grabbed another chair and flipped it around to straddle it backward.

  “Actually, I consider the King an honorary client.” She didn’t need to impress Brett, so if he wanted to think she was a nutcase, that was his problem. Ever since her sister’s battle with anorexia, Alyssa had vowed not to let other people’s expectations dictate her behavior. “When I see his image being reduced to a stereotype, I feel compelled to point it out to people and make them remember he had more going for him than sideburns and aviator sunglasses.”

  His chin resting on his forearms along the back of the chair, he seemed to consider that for a moment, his thumb drumming a soft beat against his lips as he thought. Her gaze strayed back to his Graceland tattoo, and she reminded herself to ask him about it sometime.

  “I’m sure he would have been grateful for the positive promo.” His hypnotic blue gaze reminded her of those moments when he’d been onstage and seduced her with his music.

  She suppressed a shiver at the memory, skin tingling with awareness.

  “But what about me, Alyssa? Do you think I’ve got something going for me besides a few guitar riffs?”

  She spent a few minutes outlining her thoughts on his playlist, about trimming out the ballads and concentrating on the hottest, most upbeat songs. He needed a hit, and his best option would be something with lots of rip-roaring guitar.

  But as every good manager knew, the musical talent was rarely enough on its own.

  “And you’ve got a few other things going for you.” She forced herself to plow ahead since he deserved her honest professional assessment, a full accounting of his strengths and weaknesses. Yet all she could think about right now was how personal his performance had seemed.

  “Such as?” He rocked forward on the chair slightly, his feet keeping him balanced on the floor even as he tipped closer.

  Her breath caught in her throat at his sudden proximity. She could feel the heat of his body, smell the musky male scent of his skin.

  Had she really said no kissing? Just now the ban struck her as a monumentally stupid idea.

  “Such as your delivery,” she managed finally, her voice hitting a throaty note to make Kathleen Turner proud. “You have a strong stage presence.”

  “Strong?” He unfolded his arms from their perch on the chair and for a minute she thought maybe he’d touch her. Kiss her anyway and consequences be damned.

  Instead he just hooked his thumbs around the seat’s wooden spindles. “You mean strong as in memorable?”

  “Strong as in commanding. You looked like you belonged there, and that’s not a quality that comes naturally to many performers.”

  “Alyssa likes commanding.” He seemed to be committing the news to memory. “Got it. Anything else I should keep in mind?”

  She recalled the strength of his last number and the way she’d sizzled for him from the moment he’d opened his mouth.

  “More sex.”

  “Alyssa wants more sex?” A sly smile lifted one corner of his mouth.

  Her pulse pounded hard enough to make her dizzy. Or maybe that sudden light-headed feeling was just another side effect of Brett Neale’s major sex appeal.

  “Not just me. Every woman wants more sex.” She applauded herself for deflecting the conversation from her personal wants. There wouldn’t even be any kissing tonight, so she sure as hell couldn’t see the point in thinking about sex. “And as you pointed out yourself, the best rock ’n’ roll delivers. If you can recapture the hot intensity of your last song, I guarantee you’ll win Saturday night.”

  “That could be a problem.” He threaded his fingers through his dark hair and frowned.

  “Why?” Imagining what it would be like to smooth away his foreboding expression with her fingers, Alyssa toyed with the hem of the linen cloth on the table and realized she’d be thinking about sex tonight no matter what they talked about.

  “The sex in the last song came from you, not me.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  THE ONLY SOUND Brett could hear in the moments after his declaration was the ragged breathing of his sexy new manager.

  Inhale.

  Exhale.

  He swore he could feel the light puff of her breath on his cheek, the scent of her as distinct to him as the fragrance of cinnamon and incense in her conjuring room.

  At first, he hadn’t thought it would be wise to sleep with her, but the more time they spent together the more he understood the inevitability of sex. He hadn’t formulated one thought tonight without the image of Alyssa overshadowing it. In the course of the past week, she’d completely taken over his brain. Ah hell, who he was kidding? He’d been gone on this woman ever since he first laid eyes on her six months ago.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She tried to dodge him, but he noticed she lowered her lashes, not even looking at him while she lied through her teeth.

  “You know exactly what I’m talking about.” He reached for her chair and pulled her seat closer. Maybe instead of fighting this attraction so hard, they just needed to give in and explore it. Take it wherever it might lead. What would be left to tease his imagination and distract him from his music once he’d indulged in this overwhelming need to taste Alyssa again? “The heat between us during my last song was so thick you could scoop it up with a spoon.”

  His gaze roved over her, absorbing every inch. Her dark purple T-shirt had been washed so many times the soft fabric molded comfortably to her skin, outlining compact curves and feminine strength.

  No doubt about it, giving in looked better with every sizzling second.

  “That doesn’t mean we should act on it.” Twisting a silver and turquoise ring around her finger, she didn’t look half so self-assured now as she had back at Planet Soul where she’d been utterly at home.

  The attraction made her uneasy.

  “I know I said we could keep this under control.” Curving his hand about her nervous fingers, he squeezed her palm. “But I didn’t expect one simple kiss to knock me on my heels and take my performance in a whole new direction. You have to know I’ve wanted you for a very long time.”

  “Combining sex with business is a bad idea.” Her dark eyes contained an anguished mix of desire and doubt. “I would never want to be responsible for doing anything to mess up your career—”

  “You said you didn’t want to be my manager after next week anyhow.” The more he thought about them being together, the more sense it made. “What does it matter if we follow this where it leads, Alyssa?”

  Her name on his lips made a kind of music all its own. She stared up at him like a woman in a trance, gaze fixed on his eyes and then lowering slowly to hi
s mouth.

  He hadn’t consciously decided to move closer, but he knew he must be venturing nearer when her eyes drifted shut, lashes fanning out along her cheekbone like those of an exotic doll.

  Their lips met on a mutual sigh, the tenuously agreed-upon kiss feeling like a mini-orgasm since it wrought such thorough satisfaction. A sense of rightness flooded through him, as if he’d waited forever for this kiss, this woman. She tasted like no confection he’d ever sampled before, the perfect blend of sweet enticement and sensual fulfillment. He’d never get enough of the erotic flavor of her.

  A muffled hum of pleasure eased from her mouth, the sound more a vibration than a noise. And it seemed to echo clear to his toes.

  “Alyssa.” Her name breathed from his lips, and all through his senses, as if he couldn’t soak up enough of her essence just by being near her. He wanted to experience her every way a man could have a woman. She could be his muse. His inspiration…

  And then her arms were winding around his neck and he knew there would be no turning back. Heat surged to his groin, firing the most primal of needs. There’d be time enough to sing to her, to write odes to her later. For now, he simply needed to touch her.

  She pressed closer, her breasts grazing his chest as she leaned into him. The softness of her fueled his hunger, propelling his hands on a quest to explore more of those supple curves. Tunneling fingers through the silky mass of hair at her neck, he skimmed down through the strands to trace her spine. Like a roadmap to places unknown, the course led him to the pleasing roundness of her rump, the flare of feminine hips.

  Delicious.

  His fingers cupped her, dragged her to the edge of her chair, anxious to touch more. Taste more. Like a drug to his senses, the feel of her in his arms chased away all worries, all doubts. She was his own personal Doctor Feel-Good.

  He broke their kiss long enough to stare at her again, to try and get a fix on this woman who struck him as simultaneously so sharp and so wild. A heart-stopping smile kicked up her lips, a wicked glint shone in her eyes.

  “I’m way too old for you, sugar.” She slipped her hands under his shirt and walked her fingers up his chest. “You just might be out of your depth with a foxy broad like me.”

  Whipping his shirt over his head, he hauled her out of her chair as he rose to his feet.

  “You might know more than me about the music business, but you can bet your last pair of rhinestone sunglasses that I know more about singing.” Lifting her high, he laid her tempting body out on the round table in front of him.

  His private feast.

  “Singing?” Her eyes widened for a moment as she found herself staring up at him from the tabletop. “And just what does that have to do with anything, my sexy young stud?”

  “You’ll see when I help you hit the sweetest high note of your life in about ten minutes.” Stepping between her thighs, he stretched out over her, elbows bracketing her shoulders.

  Her gaze dipped down the length of him before she hitched a finger into the waistband of his jeans. “Ten minutes? That’s the problem with you young guys. Always in a hurry. Haven’t you learned the key to a good performance is longevity?”

  “Spoken like a true manager.” Bending over the smooth column of her neck he nipped her ear and then pressed a kiss into the delicate skin behind her lobe. “But what you don’t realize is that the first ten minutes are all part of the warm-up act. You haven’t seen anything until the headliner performs.”

  Her neck arched along with her back, giving him all the more access. A soapy scent mingled with some kind of clean lemon fragrance she must have worn behind her ears. Or was that coconut? Something awfully tropical for a Vegas woman.

  “Nothing wrong with a little brash confidence, I suppose.” She slid against him, teasing his erection with a barely-there wriggle of her hips. “But if you’re going to talk smack, I hope you’re prepared to back it up. You don’t want to disappoint your audience.”

  “Not a chance.” To prove the point he eased back to align their hips. Press his advantage over her. Against her. Damned if he didn’t feel mighty impressive right about now. “I can definitely deliver.”

  “Oh.” She flexed her fingers along his abs, reminding him how much power she had over him if she moved her hand just a couple of inches to the right. He pressed harder, leaned into her more heavily and her hand slid away as she sighed with soft pleasure. “Ooh.”

  “Are you okay with being in here?” Not sparing another glance for the back room of her store, he stared only at Alyssa, wanting to make this perfect for her. He’d invested plenty of time in talking her into representing him, but now that she’d only agreed to a couple of weeks, Brett realized he wanted a hell of a lot more. There was something almost tangible drawing him to her. Instinct. Karma. Animal lust?

  He couldn’t pinpoint it exactly, but he recognized a connection that wouldn’t be denied.

  “I like it in here.” Her head swiveled around to take in more of the room. “There’s a lighter on one of the chairs if you want to light the candles.”

  For the chance to watch the reflection of candlelight over naked Alyssa, Brett couldn’t move fast enough. Stepping out of the vee of her thighs he retrieved the lighter and set flame to one wick after another around the room.

  A red triple-wick candle bloomed light and spicy fragrance followed by a chain of white pillar candles in brass holders spaced at even intervals around the walls. The soft glow gave the mountains of Elvis throw blankets and inflatable seat cushions an air of refinement, a pop culture shrine in the middle of the Nevada desert. But right now, he only wanted to think about recreating the sexy rhythm of her hips that he’d first witnessed at Planet Soul. Watching her move to his music had been more seductive than any foreplay.

  “This place looks ready for a little conjuring.” Alyssa propped her elbow under her cheek as she pivoted to look at him from her place on the table. “You want me to invite a ghost for a three-way?”

  “I think you’ll be more than enough woman to keep me entertained.” Dropping the lighter back onto a seat cushion, he tugged Alyssa up to a sitting position and contemplated how he wanted to unwrap her. Fast and furious so he could have immediate results? Tempting, but not wise after her crack about young men being in a hurry.

  Bending low, he tugged at the neckline of her T-shirt with his teeth before kissing his way down the front of the cotton, making sure to exhale a warm breath over the curve of her breasts.

  “What about me?” She shivered lightly as he worked the fabric up just enough to expose a narrow strip of skin at her waist. “Maybe I’d like a little extra male entertainment and you’ll welcome the opportunity for someone to come to your rescue once I get a hold of you.”

  He flicked his tongue along the patch of bared skin, the taut flesh warm and fragrant. “Now who’s talking smack?”

  Her abs tightened and tensed for a split second before she lay back, fingers twining through his hair to draw him closer.

  “Just trying to hold my own with you around.” Her voice faded to a husky whisper, her whole body relaxing into a kind of sensual torpor as he used his mouth to edge her T-shirt slowly up her body. “Want help?”

  Her fingers slipped under the hem of her shirt as if to lift it off for him.

  “What happened to taking our time? Moving slow instead of racing to the finish?”

  “Maybe there’s something to be said for a little youthful enthusiasm on occasion,” she admitted, yanking her shirt over her head and flinging it clear across the room.

  He hoped it hadn’t landed on a candle, but not for all the world would he turn his head right now to look.

  Alyssa’s breasts were cupped by two black satin record albums, the nipples covered with pink lace labels bearing Elvis’s name.

  Alyssa knew her breasts were nothing to write home about, so Brett’s lingering attention sent a shiver of pleasure all the way to her toes. Until she remembered her bra, that is. The custom-made, double al
bum lingerie could stop traffic out of sheer novelty.

  Damn her unique fashion sense.

  “What’s the matter? Never seen a copy of the Essential Sixties double record?” The lace suddenly itched her tender skin. She’d much rather have Brett’s lips on her than one-of-a-kind lingerie.

  “Not quite like this before.” His gaze never left her cleavage as he traced the tops of her breasts exposed by the fabric. “Best album packaging I’ve ever seen.”

  His words soothed her ego even as his touch stirred so much more. Smoky heat curled through her, the warmth flowing deep in her veins. She wanted his hands all over her. Now.

  “I’m more concerned with the unpackaging, if you please.” She traced the muscles of Brett’s shoulders with her palms, unable—no, unwilling—to remember the last time she’d touched a man. It seemed like it had been forever. And no one else had ever felt like this man who hadn’t let the rock ’n’ roll lifestyle turn him into a strung-out mass of skin and bones. Brett was steely strength and muscle, vitality and good health.

  All of which boded very well for what she had in mind.

  “So impatient for the woman who wanted to take her time.” He accommodated her by flicking a black satin strap off her shoulder before kissing the skin where the fabric had rested.

  “Screw taking your time.” Shivers tripped through her one after the other now, and she realized the taut tension inside her had been building since their thwarted date six months ago. All of a sudden it had become too much to bear and Brett was the only man who could fix it. She wrapped her leg around the back of his thigh and pressed herself against him.

  Screw it, indeed.

  Her words clearly reached him because he unhooked her bra with less finesse and more raw need. His hard hands—musician’s hands, complete with callused fingertips from years of plucking guitar strings—roamed over her with new purpose. He cupped her breasts and plumped the soft mounds, tweaking the nipples into aching peaks.

  Yes.

  Every chord inside her hummed in tune to the sweet music he wrought with his touch, her hips already swaying beneath him. She wrapped her arms tighter about his shoulders to bring him down on the table with her, but he scooped her up and carried her to a worn-out old sofa she’d moved down from her living room.