Thinking like that was crazy. I barely knew the man. Shame built in my chest because I was being ridiculous.
There was a difference between opening myself up to other people, helping them through their time of need, and leaping into a doomed relationship.
Besides, he might have a girlfriend. Crap.
After another couple of minutes of silence, I slid out of bed and knocked on the bathroom door.
“Hayden?”
“Unh?”
“You okay.”
“Sure.”
“Ready to come out and get in bed?”
“Mmm hmm.”
“I’m opening the door.”
“Yep.”
I opened the door to find him leaning against the counter. He’d brushed his teeth, splashed water on his face if his wet lashes were any indicator. I smiled, surprised he was still so out of it.
“Need to do anything else?” I asked.
He glanced around the room, his eyes unfocused.
“Never mind.”
I led him to the edge of the bed and sat him there while he watched me with owlish eyes. I unzipped his boots and pulled them off, setting them next to the door.
“Jeans on or off?”
“What?”
“How do you sleep?”
“In my boxers.”
“So jeans off.”
“Right-o.”
I undid the snap and zipper. I bit my lip as I slid the pants off his lean hips and down his long, toned legs. A rolling line of music disappeared into the waistband of his boxer-briefs. I studied the black ink, my breathing escalating. Holy hell. That was sexy.
“Do you have a girlfriend?”
I folded his jeans into quarters and set them on the chair. I tugged off his socks and then yanked at the back of his T-shirt. He lifted his arms. He was tan everywhere. That sun-kissed look most of us Northwesterners never get because we lack sunlight and vitamin D.
He flopped back onto the bed, rolling onto his side, arm pushing under the pillow. Crap, he was going to be right up against me.
“Hayden, about that girlfriend.”
“No girlfriend. No interest. No time.”
Well. I’d asked, and he’d told me.
13
Hayden
I woke in the dark hour before dawn. My arm tingled from lack of circulation. A warm body was draped across my chest, hair tickling my nose.
Son of a bitch. I’d slept with some woman, and I couldn’t remember any of it. That was low, even for me. I inhaled, trying to stave off frustration. A familiar scent filled my nose. I smoothed my hand down the woman’s back, surprised to feel soft cotton over her sleep-warmed skin. A sigh of relief flooded my lungs. Briar.
Though I didn’t remember much from last night after drinking a second beer, some glimpses of memories came back to me. She helped me to bed. That was it. Good. I’d hate to have no recollection of my first time with Briar.
She felt perfect, her breasts against my chest. I ignored the pinpricks shooting up my arm. I rubbed my free hand back up her spine. She sighed as she snuggled in closer.
My hand was at the base of her neck, the skin there so soft and delicate under my fingers. I cupped the back of her head, loving the way she fit against me.
Loud purring echoed through the room.
I glanced around, confused by the invisible Harley revving. But no, the noise came from the cat. Princess or Angel or some stupid name that embarrassed the hell out of the animal and gave the cat a complex. The name alone explained half its aggressive pissy-ness.
The cat jumped lightly onto the foot of the bed, and I tensed. Her blue-gray fur ruffled as she walked with all the sedate grace of a runway model up the side of the bed. Her whiskers twitched as she licked her thin kitty lips. I pulled Briar tighter into my embrace before I freed my arm closest to the beast.
We glared at each other, Briar between us. Somehow the purring got louder. Crikey, it was as many decibels as a jetliner.
Eyes still fixed on me, the cat lifted one soft, slightly fluffy paw and touched Briar’s shoulder. I waited. The cat cocked its head and pushed with its paw again.
She added a soft mmrrrooww. Briar mumbled something, throwing her leg over my hip, snuggling closer.
I bit back a moan. Helluva way to wake up. Soft woman draped over my sex-starved equipment while the rest of my body was tensed against an imminent hellion attack.
The cat leaned its head down, eyes never leaving mine, and licked Briar’s shoulder, the rough rasp of her tongue loud in the quiet room.
“What?” Briar cried out, her whole body bowing.
I scrambled out from under her before my dick took a beating.
“I’m feeding the cat.”
“It’s dark.”
I smirked. Not a morning person then. I pressed her head back into the pillow, smoothing the hairs back from her warm cheek. “Sleep, Sweet Briar. I got this.”
She settled back into the bed and her eyes slid shut, body relaxing into the mattress.
The cat exploded into a ball of angry hissing and batting paws. I lunged forward as Briar cried out, body curling into a protective posture as the cat pounced, back arched, spitting her anger.
I managed to get my hands under her fluffy belly. I could feel each of her ribs. Poor kitty. She was hungry. Really hungry. Briar said the cat wouldn’t eat for the neighbor who was supposed to be feeding her. Even now, she struggled to get to Briar, the kind woman who fed her, talked to her, and probably reminded her of her owner. I ran from the bedroom.
Damn. All of us, even this blasted cat, were just looking for a connection. Someone to love.
The cat continued to hiss and meow until I started humming. I cuddled the cat against my chest as she shuddered, turning those big, guileless sapphire eyes up to me.
Sweet hell, I was falling for a cat. A cat that didn’t even belong to the woman I wanted to sleep with. I was in so far over my head.
“Salmon coming up for Her Majesty.”
The cat curled around my arm like a python, and purred loud enough to break apart the walls.
I gave Princess twice as much of the salmon as Briar tossed in her bowl the night before, adding some of the dry food I found in the pantry. Of course, smart kitty that she was, Princess munched on the salmon, her tail twitching with pleasure.
“Got it, love. You like a big brekkie. Does set the tone for the day, eh? Now to make coffee for the other princess still in bed.”
Only there wasn’t a coffeepot, at least not the kind I was used to. After looking through all the cupboards, I found a mesh contraption. A coffee filter? I heard footsteps padding toward me and turned to face the hall.
Hot damn. Briar’s belly button, a shadow secret I wanted to take my time learning, peeked between the pink material of her cotton shorts and tank top. When my eyes drifted over the flare of her hips, my mouth went dry. Her legs were long and toned. She clearly enjoyed exercise and taking care of herself.
Briar’s toenails sparkled in the dim light and a narrow silver chain circled her left ankle. I forced my gaze back up to her sleep-flushed face, willing my body back under control. Not that she wasn’t aware of my interest. It was embarrassingly obvious.
“I was going to make you coffee. There’s no pot.”
Briar’s smile could warm the southernmost tip of Tasmania. “This is Seattle. We take coffee seriously.”
She walked right up to me, so close I could feel her hair slide across my chest. She’d let it down. It was pulled up, a few pieces straggling around her face, when she’d helped me into bed last night. I liked her hair both ways. She plucked the filter thing from my unresisting finger.
“I’m from Melbourne. So do we.”
She tipped her head back and met my eyes. Hers were dark, almost navy. Her soft lips parted. An unconscious opening, I hoped, seeking my mouth, my tongue. Because I wanted to give her both. I slid my hand over her hip, settling at the curve of her waist, my fingers farther up her
back as my thumb rubbed across her ribs.
Her eyes widened, her lips parted fully. “I’d like you to kiss me,” she whispered.
Her voice, husky from sleep and need, was the best music ever. I brought my other hand up to cup her cheek, fingers in her silky hair, palm against her jaw. I tilted her head just how I wanted it and brought my head down. Keeping my eyes locked on hers, I waited.
“If I kiss you, I’m going to want to do so again.” I drew her closer until her breasts touched my chest. Right where she belonged.
“I think I’m going to want you to do more than kiss me.”
“This will take us past the friend agreement we made yesterday,” I said as I pressed my lips to the very edge of her mouth, pulled back. We stared at each other for a long breath. She slid her arms around my neck.
“What do you want, Briar?”
“You,” she whispered.
“I need to know. Exactly.”
She pulled back a little, a small furrow building between her brows. Pain built in her eyes, muddying the vivid blue. Then she blinked, coming back to me. Taking a deep breath, she said, “I want to be with you, Hayden. I want you to make love to me, but I also want to spend time with you. I enjoy your company.”
I pulled her flush against me, my hand splayed on her lower back, my fingers on the upper swell of her bum.
“I want that, too.” I pressed my lips to hers, firm and sure of our mutual pleasure.
She melted into me further, quicksilver seeking its home. I shifted her jaw to give me deeper access, parting her lips with my tongue. Sweeping inside her mouth, I moaned, loving the warmth and hint of mint from her toothpaste. Her nipples pebbled against my chest, and I cupped the side of her breast. Her tongue slid over mine, touching, tasting, learning.
She cuddled closer, her belly cushioning my raging erection.
She grabbed fistfuls of my hair and strained into me. I flicked my thumb over her nipple and she moaned, arching her back into my body.
She pulled her tongue from mine and smoothed it over my bottom lip. Her teeth found that spot at the corner of my mouth and nipped. I dropped both hands to her hips and pulled her up, pressing her warm core to my hard dick.
This kiss was a rip curl thundering toward the beach. I never wanted to stop.
Briar’s legs wrapped around my waist. I turned and set her on the counter, needing my hands free to touch all her soft skin. She tipped her head back as I pulled my mouth from hers, trailing my lips across her jaw and down her neck, my tongue and teeth teasing the spot where her collarbone dipped. I rolled her breast across my palm and her thighs squeezed my hips tighter, trying to pull me even closer.
I pulled down the strap of her tank top. I needed that lush little bud in my mouth. Now.
A sharp sting in my calf forced me back, and I yelped. Three red lines of blood dripped near my ankle. The cat stared up at me, all wide-eyed shock, her tail curled around her now-sheathed claws.
“I don’t think the cat wants to share you,” Briar said, her voice shaking with both laughter and need. “Rosie was just saying yesterday that she doesn’t like many people. But she seems to like you.”
“I can see why. She’s a menace. A hungry menace.”
Briar pressed her nose into the side of my neck. “I didn’t want to stop.”
I pulled back so she could see my eyes. “I wouldn’t have if the she-beast hadn’t clawed me.”
“The heat between us is intense,” she said, her eyes showing some of the vulnerability buried beneath the passion.
“Very,” I said. I stepped back, putting some space between us so I didn’t grab her again. “I’ve never wanted a woman like I want you.”
Her cheeks flushed—with pleasure at my words?—but her eyes remained steady. “I know you’re leaving.”
“I have to. The less time I’m gone, the better. Not just for me, but for my band. For our fans. This isn’t something I can fuck around with. Too many people are depending on me.”
I pulled her back into my arms, not caring if the cat scratched me again. Briar tucked her head in, pressing tight against my chest. Her arms wound around me, and while this embrace wasn’t as sexy as our kisses just moments before, it was intimate on a deeper level. I wasn’t about to study the why too closely.
14
Briar
“How about this?” Hayden asked, pulling away just far enough to brush my hair back, his eyes roaming my face.
I wasn’t supermodel material, but at least my features were symmetrical. My eyes and mouth were a bit too big for my narrow face, but my nose was straight and small, my chin softly rounded. I spent way too much money keeping my eyebrows thin and arched. My lashes were long but not as thick as I’d like, my eyes a boring blue. Lia said my coloring was striking, and because I’d never lacked for dates, I guessed that was at least somewhat true.
“I want to take you on a date tonight. A proper one. No hat and sunnies. No eating on the couch.”
I nibbled my bottom lip, still plumped and sensitive from our make-out session. Hayden’s kisses were addictive. I wanted more.
“If you’re worried about the pap, we can eat in my suite,” he said, rubbing his hands up and down my arms. “But we’ll do it at a table. With candles and real glasses.”
I blinked, forcing my train of thought away from all the places I wanted to lick, suck, and nuzzle. “I hadn’t thought about the media.”
He smiled, tucking a strand of my hair behind my ear. “Says the journalist.”
“No, seriously I—”
“You’re not much of a yabber either.” He pressed a kiss to the sensitive skin right at the corner of my eye. Who knew that spot was such a turn-on? Or maybe I was just turned on because Hayden was touching me.
“So. Tonight?”
“I’d love to, but what about Princess?”
Hayden glanced down, staring at the fluffy ten pounds of fur wending between our legs. “We’ll feed her again before we leave this morning and then stop here on the way back to my hotel. Does that work?”
I nodded. “You’re sure you want to be seen with me? Written up with me in the media?”
He kissed the other side of my face, in the same spot. I couldn’t suppress the shiver. “Yes.”
“Then I agree.”
“Smart woman.”
I snorted. “I want some coffee.”
“Then a run. A good ripper to get our blood flowing.”
“My blood’s already flowing,” I said. “Has been since you’ve been in just your boxers.”
He tugged my hair. “I planned to make you brekkie. But I couldn’t find the coffee or the cackleberries.”
“What?”
“Eggs. For an omelet.”
“I like omelets.” I licked my lips and leaned into his chest. “But I’d like to eat you more.”
“Behave. The cat will rip me to shreds.”
I opened the canister with the coffee and turned on the electric kettle. After pouring the boiling water carefully over the expensive ground beans, I handed Hayden a cup.
“Never seen a cuppa made like that.”
“How do you do it? Straight up on a drip machine?”
He snorted. “I order out when I’m in Melbourne. Everywhere you go, even the shitty milk bar on the corner will have a fifty-thousand-dollar coffee machine on the counter. We list our coffee in terms of notes and accents and terroir. Like Napa does its wine. That would be annoying if the coffee wasn’t so amazing. Sydney’s not quite as good, but I haven’t been spending much time there, even if it is where my mail goes.”
“Well, now I’m worried about serving you coffee,” I joked.
“I have to say my local coffee is better than the stuff I drank in Italy, and on par with that in Spain.”
“Do you like the traveling?” I asked, hesitant.
“Not as much as I thought I would,” he said, his eyes broody. “Cheers.” He raised his mug in a salute and took a sip. “That’s bloody fine,�
� he murmured.
“As good as your Melbourne stuff?”
“Not likely, love. But good for a Yank effort.”
“Keep talking to me like that and I won’t go to dinner with you.” I rolled my eyes.
He slid in close to my back, his hips bracketing mine, my head falling back into the solid wall of his chest. His free arm wrapped tight around my waist while he continued to sip his coffee.
“Hush. This is the best morning I’ve spent in years. Probably ever.” Hayden rubbed his nose against the sensitive spot just behind my ear. I set my mug on the counter seconds before I dropped it. Between his words and his long body clad only in boxer-briefs, I’d never get past my quivering mass of hormones and focus on any task.
“Finish your coffee, love. We’re off for a run.”
“How’d you know I run?”
“With legs like that, you have to,” Hayden said. His eyes heated as he took in my bare legs.
“You just want to see me in spandex,” I joked, trying to ease the nearly insurmountable sexual tension building between us.
Hayden’s grin was wide and naughty. I shivered as heat slid from my chest, down deep into my belly. I picked up my mug again, took another sip of the coffee.
“Fair dinkum. Get dressed. We’re off.”
I pouted as I set my mug in the sink.
“None of that, Sweet Briar.”
“My dad used to call me that,” I said.
“I can see why. You’re sweet. Now, let’s be off. I’m a man on a mission.”
“Why?”
He flicked his index finger across my chin. “I’ve cracked on you. This is more than having a naughty.” He shrugged at my silence and quite possibly the confusion on my face. “Sex. It’s more than sharing a quick rub off.”
“I’m glad we agree on that.” Amusement warred with concern. I knew his band was waiting for him, just like I knew many musicians stashed lovers in every city-of-call. Even Doug, Lia’s late husband, had treated that part of music as a given, setting up his sexual exploits in tandem with a new gig.
Seattle Sound Series, The Collection: Books One to Five Page 34
