What more did she want? She’d received endorsements from two of the movers and shakers in the industry, and one of them wasn’t sleeping with her.
Shit, she should do this. She should so do this.
Decision made. She’d tell him later, because this time belonged to him. Not that he seemed to think so, because he was beckoning to her. His forefinger crooked in a way that reminded her what he did when that finger was inside her. A shiver surprised her, but it shouldn’t have. She couldn’t resist. She went, people making room for her.
“That first new song tonight? This is the inspiration.” Zazz stood and curved his arm around her waist, planting a gentle kiss on her lips. Flashes went off, but she concentrated on Zazz and his incredible blue eyes, which were sending currents of arousal zapping through her. He turned back to the assembled media. “But only the inspiration. It’s for everyone who faces that dilemma—loving someone and forced to live apart.”
Loving? Did he say that? Laura swallowed, trying to keep the smile fixed on her face, but when he glanced at her, his eyes were full of amusement. He leaned closer to murmur in her ear, so no one could even lip read what he was saying. With Hunter’s beloved Sabina in the audience, that could be a distinct possibility. “What, it’s a surprise? With you, it’s too easy. I fell in love the minute I saw you in person. Before we even touched.”
Oh fuck, the courage of the man. The way he’d opened his heart and soul onstage, there for anyone to ridicule if they wanted to, the way he held her now, so she could break away, laugh in his face if she wanted—it took her breath away.
What could she do but try to match his bravery?
She gazed up into his eyes, not even trying to hide her voice or her expression, which must be a dead giveaway. “I love you too,” she said.
His kiss wasn’t anything like a peck this time. Curving his hand over the side of her face, he took her in something long, deep and wild, his tongue tasting hers as if he’d never sampled it before. She ate at him, as eager as he, but she was the one to break the kiss. “You have a public to make happy,” she reminded him.
“I think I just did. They’ll be talking about this for weeks.”
Her cheeks warmed with her blush, but she wouldn’t stand down. “Talk to them. Tell them what you meant.”
“Stay with me?”
She didn’t know if he meant now or forever, but it didn’t matter. Not yet, although it would. “Yes.”
Someone had already provided a chair next to his, so they sat, and he kept his arm around her. The rest of the band didn’t attempt to break in, a symptom of how together and confident they felt in each other. They might not know what he was about to say, but they trusted him. “At the moment that song is specific to me and the situation I find myself in. It’s something I will bring to the band, and together we’ll make it something else, something universal.”
“Do you ever do solo efforts?”
Zazz glanced at Riku, sitting at the other end of the table. “Yes. Sometimes we agree that a song should remain individual. Rumplepeter is Riku’s. None of us felt it needed any more than what we gave it. But my new song needs more input. I’m hoping the dudes will help me with that.” Laura assumed that V was one of “the dudes” and knew why he used it. They were always “dudes” to each other. They’d have used that terminology when they first met, and they wouldn’t change now.
“What about you, V?”
The blonde gave a dazzling smile. “I’m a colorist. I take what they’ve done and add more layers. I don’t write on my own account. I don’t have that talent. With Zazz in the band, we could survive on his stuff forever.”
Everyone had their own talents and they contributed. Like her job, but it didn’t work out like that. She was supposed to be part of a team—social worker, district nurse, hospital nurse, GP, hospital doctor, welfare worker—all working together. They never had combined meetings, although she had monthly meetings with some of them. Not the hospital side or the GP, ever. Those contacts were usually one to one.
She couldn’t change anything. Only do her work as best she could. Was it right to choose personal fulfillment over the work she did? Guilt suffused her, as it always did when she thought of her job. Not now. This time belonged to him. His arm around her waist felt right, secured her. She shouldn’t feel like that, not with Zazz, one of the bad boys of rock. But he wasn’t like that, was he? Not really. He didn’t take drugs, he didn’t drink, he thought clearly and analytically. He cared about people. Her, for one, his father for another.
She kept half an ear open to the questions fired at the band, but they were mainly routine. Who created what, what was this song about, that song, were they planning the next album. Zazz took his share, kept his arm around her, glanced at her from time to time, giving her a gentle smile that moved her soul.
Chick declared the conference finished when someone asked about Sabina’s health. They were straying into forbidden ground. What the band had to say about that, they’d already said. Chick had told them that subject was closed, so it was more than risking their limbs when they asked about her. Someone yelled to Zazz, “Are you leaving the band now you’ve found true love?”
“Stupid question,” Zazz snapped in return, and Chick got to his feet, held up his hand. “Time’s up, people. Thanks for coming.”
The band left through a door at the corner of the room, together with their significant others, the ones who were present. By mutual, unspoken consent they headed for their dressing rooms, and as soon as Zazz got Laura into his, he kissed her, long and sweet. “I feel great,” he said when they came up for air. “How about you?”
“Confused,” she said, trying to be as honest as she could. “Happy.”
He grinned and kissed her again.
Matters would have progressed to an inevitable conclusion had her phone not vibrated. She’d turned off the ringer when she’d gone to take her seat. In case Zazz had wanted to get in touch with her afterward, she hadn’t turned it off. But it couldn’t be him now. She dragged the phone out with every intention of glancing at the screen and cutting off the caller, but the name caught her attention.
Still with one arm around him, she answered. “Kelsie? Is everything okay?”
Her friend’s distressed voice sounded loudly, enough for Zazz to hear her, Laura guessed. “It’s Jimmy A. He’s got a hankering, he tells me. He said he’d be wanting to get together with his old friends. I can’t control him, Laura. I need help with him.”
She exchanged a glance with Zazz who stood, holding her, his face suddenly grave. “What are you talking about, Kelsie? What do you mean?”
“He went to the Band On The Wall last night, and today I went to see him. I didn’t know, I swear. I found stuff in his place. You know—stuff.”
“Drugs?”
A pause, then a sob. “Yes. White powder. He said it was heroin, and it was good to get back in the groove.”
“Oh fuck.” Without apology, Zazz snatched the phone to talk to Kelsie. “Where did he get it? Do you know?”
“No. He says he’s going back to the club tomorrow night.”
“Oh shit. The place is a lot more respectable than it used to be, but you can’t stop everybody. Okay, we’re on our way. We’ll fly down tonight.”
Laura laid her head against his chest, weary and suddenly exhausted. She couldn’t abandon Jimmy. Zazz moved against her, a cherishing motion. “Scratch that. We can’t do anything tonight. We’ll be there tomorrow morning.” He rang off and put the phone down. She lifted her head to see where he put it, but he murmured her name and pressed her against him. He felt good, so warm, so fucking human. James, not Zazz. “Come on, baby, let’s get back to the hotel and get some rest. I’ll ask Beverley or Chick to sort us something out.”
“After what we said—we should do something.”
“No.” From his voice she knew the call had completely depressed his spirits, and she understood. His father was in trouble—again. Zazz had spent most of his life dr
agging his father out of trouble and here he was again, doing the same thing. Not a night to celebrate their newfound love.
As it turned out, she was wrong.
*
Zazz still signed autographs for the people waiting after the show for the band. Even though most of the band had headed out, some fans had waited for Zazz. Laura had become accustomed to fans trying to jostle her out of the way, but Zazz kept his arm firmly around her waist until he released her to sign. Even then she stayed close.
Only she knew how worried he must be about his father, because he showed nothing to the fans, appeared as his usual charming, but broody self. That should have been an oxymoron, but Zazz pulled it off. A mixture of arrogance and attention to individuals, it worked in his own special way. With nobody the wiser, except Laura. She held his hand when she could, kept close, as much for him as for her. Anxiety radiated off him in waves, and she wanted so much to hold him.
She’d had her chance in the limo, once they’d driven clear of the arena and were heading to the hotel, a five-star nearby. They hardly spoke at all, just a few murmured endearments, and he kept his head resting on her breasts, his arm around her waist, holding tight.
They got to the hotel and he was his usual arrogant self, swaggering inside with Laura tucked under his arm. She understood. He had a public to please, even here, in the hotel staff, and he knew how to do it, probably instinctively. They headed for the usual entrance for bands, through the back, but this time a corridor outside the kitchens and a huge goods lift. His only indication of his state was the way he tapped his foot on the way to their floor.
They walked straight through to the bedroom they were sharing. He kicked the door closed and reached for her. But this time they didn’t grab each other in a paroxysm of passion. Instead, he took her hand and led her to the bed where they undressed each other slowly, savoring the experience. She flattened her hand on his chest, smoothing over his skin. He covered her hand with his when it reached his heart. “That’s for you,” he said, as she felt the heavy thud, thud under her palm.
“And mine is for you,” she replied, taking his free hand and pressing it to the upper slope of her left breast.
He smiled. “Then we’d better look after them, hadn’t we?”
Only then did he lower his head to kiss her. Their lips met in a perfect connection of what they both now acknowledged was love. Where it would take them, Laura wasn’t sure, but telling him had felt so good. She’d loved him for the past two years, but as an idea, a friend. Only when they’d met and connected physically had that love come to full fruition. And now it was here. There was no going back. What happened next in the real world would occur outside this room. It had no place here.
They finished undressing. Without words, he drew back the bedcover for her and she slid between the cool, smooth sheets, waiting. He joined her and leaned over for another kiss. The condoms were where they needed them, in the bedside table drawer. He barely left her for a minute while he took care of protection.
He mounted her in the traditional fashion, settling between her legs, and she raised her knees to press her feet flat on the bed. He sank into her arms, holding nothing back, his face showing tenderness and need, as she imagined hers did. Slipping his fingers between her legs, he tested her readiness. She could have told him she was more than ready, had been since the dressing room, despite the news about his father.
Laura refused to let her mind go there. Refused to let anything from outside this room into their lovemaking.
Taking sheathed cock in hand, he guided it and pushed, so the flared head slid in as if she’d been made for this. She caught her bottom lip between her teeth and he bent to touch his lips to hers, making her release it. His kiss was as gentle as his entry, and he didn’t close his eyes. Neither did she. When he drew away and watched, she smiled and curled a hand around his neck, pushing fingers into his hair. She loved the way it appeared black until the light hit it, then gleamed pure dark blue. Subtle and fascinating.
He sank deep, paused when fully inside her. “I love you,” he murmured. “I’ve never told that to another woman. Ever.”
She smiled at him. “I love you too.” No shadows in her mind, not while he pulled out of her, then thrust.
As harmonious as a cappella, as sweet as a lullaby, with the hidden bite of a Murder City Ravens song, he loved her. No doubt, no pause, nothing held back. He didn’t tell her he loved her again. He didn’t have to. Instead, he showed her. His body in hers, his hand caressing her, he stroked her inside and out with an intensity she’d never known before. If this was good now, how good would it get in future? She had no idea, but she ached to find out. As often as she said she couldn’t, that they weren’t meant to be, her body and her spirit told her it could, it would.
She’d tell him, but not yet. He needed this, what she could give him, and he gave everything freely, accepted what he gave her in return but expected nothing. Not now. She wanted him to forget, for a few hours, before they left.
So he loved her, and she loved him back. When she curled her legs around his waist, he could reach deeper inside her. He kept his hands by her shoulders, carefully supporting his weight as he steadily drove her to complete and utter madness. Every stroke touched the spot he’d come to know well, the one that pushed her steadily toward culmination. Already she had ripened for him. Her body was aware as she had never been for anyone before, her willingness to give herself to him completely the key to her ecstasy.
She’d never realized that before, as she had never understood what giving control to someone could be like. He needed it, she knew, as she needed him to do it. He fucked her, his cock hard and relentless, driving inside her, easy now. Her juices flowed freely, bathing his cock and the top of her thighs and the bed beneath them. He didn’t talk, but as if he understood by osmosis he did exactly the right thing at the right time. He thrust into her, changing his strokes from deep to shallow, grazing her G-spot.
Her body blossomed like a flower bursting into full bloom in the rain, or like a constant current of electricity surging through her. The rhythm forced her pussy into hard, violent contractions around his cock, milking it, drawing it deeper. He muttered her name in a voice far huskier than she’d ever heard from him before, not at all like his usual melodious light baritone. He dropped his head, resting his forehead against her upper chest, and they stayed like that for—well, forever.
Eventually, with a sigh, he lifted his head and sealed their mouths. They shared a long, luxurious kiss. He thrust his tongue into her mouth and she opened for him while he took his time, tasting her, stroking her. She tasted him in return, as he let her into his mouth, and the kiss began to turn wild. He hardened inside her. Hastily, he drew away. “We’re taking a chance. We shouldn’t do this.”
She considered, staring up at him, and she knew she’d love his child. She also knew that such a decision would be selfish and unfair. “We can’t, James. Not now.”
He nodded and slid a hand between them to hold the condom in place while he withdrew from her. She sighed, already missing him as he rolled over and got out of bed, heading for the bathroom. He glanced over his shoulder, eyes bright with promise. “Stay right there.”
The toilet flushed and the sink taps ran, then he was back. Natural to move into his arms, to let him press a kiss to her forehead, then to her mouth. She traced her fingers over the tribal on his arm. “I could get one of those.”
“A matching one?” He laughed, a happy sound. “If you like. Maybe I’ll get your name tattooed in huge letters over my chest, so every time I strip onstage, people will know who I belong to.”
She frowned. “What?”
“I’m yours. That goes with love, doesn’t it?” His expression was graver than his words indicated. He’d gone for light, but he meant it.
“We can’t know how long this will last.”
He touched his finger to her lips. “Together or apart, it’ll last a lifetime. But I don’t go in for th
e huge tattoos. You’ve seen Jace’s? According to him it hurt like a bitch, but once he’d committed to it, he couldn’t go back. Except for refusing to have it colored. He said the monochrome was classier. Less painful too.”
She joined in his laughter.
“Hungry?” he asked. “For us, it’s early. Just after one, believe it or not. We should be getting hungry.”
“I had a sandwich earlier. Are you hungry?”
He shook his head. “Maybe we should sleep and get an early start.” He moaned low in his throat. “But don’t look at me like that. Shit, Laura, sleep?” With an effort that bunched the muscles in his arms and shoulders, he moved away and picked up the phone. He ordered a simple meal, cold cuts and salad, with a bottle of elderflower cordial. Then he put a call through to Chick and asked for transport in the morning. “I’ll be in touch,” he said, in answer to what must be Chick’s concern. “I’ll be okay. I’ll have Laura with me.”
He sounded anything but certain, but looking at this man, this gorgeous man who was all hers to touch and kiss and love, she knew she’d never let him down, if it was within her power to do anything for him. And when he put the phone down, she attacked him, rolling on top of him and making him laugh in surprise. “You promised,” she said. “Again.”
This time she wanted to make love to him. Try to show him the openness and honesty he’d shown to her.
Chapter Twelve
Zazz gazed up at the woman he’d said “I love you” to and knew he’d done the right thing. He was happy. She grasped his cock and the familiar sensations enveloped him, delight from the heat of her hand, the dampness of her pussy as she straddled his thighs. He wanted to spend a long time worshipping her. He let her take him, do what she wanted, because anything she did was right. Even when she bent and licked him, ending with inserting the very tip of her tongue into the slit at the top of his cock. She made him wild with wanting her. He remained lying on his back, shoulders propped against the bank of soft pillows behind him. But he couldn’t resist cupping her head in his hands, letting her silky, tousled hair flow over his skin, caressing him as she moved.
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