Rock & Release

by Riley Edgewood

  "The hotels are paid for by the venues that book us," he admits, smiling. "So don't worry. I'm not paying for them either."

  "Oh." That makes me feel better.

  He gestures toward the kitchen. "Want anything? Eggs? French toast? You won't even have to pay for it." He pauses, a flirty little smirk across his face. "Or I could show you around the rest of the bus first. We do have the entire thing to ourselves…"

  To ourselves, to ourselves, to ourselves.

  "This is nuts." I can't stop the truth from pouring out. "I've never done anything like this. Unless you count earlier this summer—"

  "You toured with someone else already this summer?" His eyes dance. "Damn, Cassie, you little groupie."

  "No, I meant…" I slide into the booth across from him. I meant how I took the job at BackBar and moved out of my parents' house, but that'll sound so small to him. "Never mind."

  "Your early-morning text surprised me. It made me happy too, but you really had me thinking you weren't interested. So here's the last chance I'll give you to change your mind. Are you sure you want to be here?" He asks the question I've been asking myself all morning.

  I take a minute before lifting my face. I try to picture what the rest of my summer will be like, touring with Luca and his band. And I can't. I can't even begin to imagine what it's going to be like.

  Which is perfect.

  "You sold me with that whole thrill of the unexpected bit." I look at Luca, knowing the truth is plastered across my features. "I absolutely want to be here."

  "Good." He breaks into a breathtaking grin and stands, reaching for me. "I wasn't actually going let you back off the bus even if you wanted me to. Just so you know, the only groupie you get to be is mine." He pauses, watching my face for what I'm sure he knows I'll say.

  "I am not your groupie."

  He laughs. "Come on, I'll show you the rest of the bus."

  "What about that French toast you promised?" I have visions of him, covered in powdered sugar, as he tries to make breakfast—burning it, of course, as I'm sure he hasn't had to make anything for himself in at least a decade.

  "Later." His grin stretches wider and he grabs my hand—his enthusiasm's hard not to catch, and I smile right back at him.

  "Where's your driver?" I ask as he pulls me past the kitchen. "The sun is coming up, and I thought you said we were leaving at the crack of dawn."

  "We—I like that word, coming from your mouth." He looks over his shoulder to grin at me. "I bumped our departure time by an hour. He's probably back in bed at the hotel."

  Then he takes me through the area that's his office, complete with a small recording studio for "when he feels like tinkering around with sound"—and, get this, a movie theater. Or, as Luca calls it, a "cinema room." A spade's a spade in my book though. The entire place smells like expensive leather, the kind you just know will be soft as silk. The bathroom has a full shower and gray ceramic-topped counters and cabinets, sleek and cool to the touch. "The one upstairs," Luca says, "is smaller but has better water pressure."

  "The one upstairs?" I gape at him. "As in, on the second level?"

  He tilts his head toward the back corner of the room we're in. There's a spiral staircase leading up to another level.

  "Catching flies?" He taps my jaw, which is hanging open.

  I leave it there for another second, raising my eyebrows, because come on. "Right. There's an upstairs. Of course there is. Silly me."

  "You are so refreshingly fucking cute I could eat you right up." He wraps his arms around my shoulders, pulling me against his chest for a tight squeeze.

  I take a deep breath, inhaling his spicy cinnamon vanilla scent. I kind of want to eat him right up, too. And not just because he smells a little like dessert.

  Wow. Okay. Am I really doing this? Responsible Cassidy truly has left the building.

  But she's also left all her worries. All her guilt…well, most of her guilt. And most of her sorrow. Or…at least, she's doing her best. And I know something that'll really help. So I ask, "Is there a bedroom in this thing?"

  "You want to skip the rest of the tour?" He stills, and with my head against his chest, I can hear the beat of his heart speed up the tiniest bit.

  "I…" I pause, waiting for nerves to set in. But they don't, and when I realize they're not coming, I can almost feel the rest of my inhibitions slipping off my shoulders. I smile against his chest. "I do."

  "Really?" He leans back to look in my eyes and, when I nod, the last traces of sleepiness in his expression sharpen into something more suggestive. His hands slide lower, his thumbs slipping over the tips of my breasts. My nipples spring to attention. So do other very sensitive areas of my body.

  "Without a doubt."

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  I follow Luca up the staircase in his tour bus and through a bar—something that I'm sure will impress me when my mind actually takes it in later on, after…

  He pulls me into a bedroom separated from the bar by glass panels. The first thing I notice is the bed. The huge, cushiony-looking bed, neatly made, with deep green covers and a sleek black headboard. I wonder how many other girls have seen it. Actually, scratch that. I really don't want to know. I'm here now. Who came before doesn't matter. Neither does whoever'll come after. This is my slice of time. My escape.

  There's a nightstand by the bed, and a dresser against the wall, but the rest of the room is bare. I try not to compare it to Gage's bedroom. All the pictures of his family. The warmth. Not that Luca's bus bedroom is cold. It's just…empty. But of course it is. We're on a bus, not in his house.

  And empty or not, the room is still freaking impressive, with church-style arched windows cut into the walls at the sides. The early-morning sun, higher in the sky now, comes through glaringly bright. When he notices me squinting, Luca pushes a touch screen on the wall by the door and shades drop down to cover the windows. He hits it a second time, and the glass walls separating us from the rest of the second level change from transparent to an opaque, milky white.

  "Wow." I don't know if I'm talking about the room, the bus, or the view of Luca James standing right in front of me.

  "Wow." He smoothes his hands along my waist and then jerks up my shirt, untucking it from my shorts.

  "This…" Holy shit. This is really happening. Excitement is a sweet burn at the base of my belly. "This bus is really something else."

  "You're really something else."

  "Stop that."

  "Stop what?"

  "That!" But I'm grinning like a maniac and when he yanks my shirt up even further, I raise my hands to help him get it over my head. "Repeating everything I say."

  His gaze travels slowly down my body and back up, desire blooming in his eyes. "You're gorgeous, babe."

  I fight a blush, clearing my throat. I wish I could think of some sort of response, but…nope. I've got nothing. Thankfully, Luca doesn't notice my silence. He's too busy taking me in. The heat in my face tells me I've lost the battle with the blush.

  "Whatcha got under these?" He tugs at the waist of my shorts, glancing down. "Mmmm. Black panties? I like."

  "They're not…sexy or anything." Might as well admit it upfront. Why didn't I leave myself time to hit up a lingerie store?

  "You're sexy as hell, Cass. Doesn't matter what you're wearing." He steps away from me, and—full of sugary tension—the air stretches like taffy between us. "Show me."

  "Uh…" Okay, Cassidy, let's do this. What am I even here for if I'm not going all in? No turning back now.

  Especially no turning back after.

  And it's the last thought that propels me into action.

  I make myself meet his eyes, and I bite my lower lip, unbuttoning my shorts. I tuck my thumbs into the waist and drag them slowly down, twisting my hips a little to let the fabric fall below them.

  Okay, be sexy.

  Give him bedroom eyes.

  How do I give bedroom eyes? God. What am I doing? He's used to supermodels
and way more experienced girls. WHAT AM I DOING?

  But something's working because he's breathing faster now, and it gives me the boost of confidence I need. I let my shorts fall the rest of the way to the floor and step out. His gaze lingers over my body, dragging spikes of anticipation up and down my skin.

  "Get over here." He yanks me over to him and dips his head toward mine.

  But I put a finger to his lips before they reach my mouth. "Your turn. Fair's fair."

  I pull his shirt over his head. And then stop dead in my tracks.

  "Holy shit." I trail a finger down his chest and stomach, my mouth curving when he takes a short, sudden breath. His skin is smooth, his body lithe and toned. Which, of course, is nice, but his abs... His abs blow right past a six-pack into something more like ten. From a distance, they made me want to lick him. Up close, they make me want to do a hell of a lot more than that. "How is this even possible?"

  He grins, cocky as hell. "You like?"

  "Very, very much so." I take another step away, pointing at his sweatpants. "These need to go."

  "Sweats won't give quite the same show coming off as your shorts did."

  I laugh. "I've seen you strut onstage. You could make a dirty rag look sexy."

  "So you like it dirty?" He cocks a brow and every nerve under my skin begins to tingle.

  Keep it cool. "Stop stalling."

  "Believe me, babe. I'm not stalling anything." And down go his sweats, revealing green boxers and he stands there, so unbelievably hot I can't stop swallowing because saliva makes a river in my mouth.

  It doesn't seem fair to the rest of the girls in the world. I've gone from Cassidy, responsible junior in college who's had a few unremarkable boyfriends along the way, to Cassidy, a girl who finds herself surrounded by the sexiest guys who do the sexiest things… Like right now. Luca prowls toward me, slow and sleek, like a leopard stalking pray… Stalking me.

  I back up, unable to fight a grin, until his bed hits the backs of my legs.

  "Nowhere to go now," he says, and I shiver at the promise in his words. He pushes my shoulders down until I'm sitting and slides the straps of my bra down my arms till my breasts are free. Smoothly, with one hand, he reaches around to unhook it the rest of the way, and then he crawls over top of me, pushing me onto my back, his voice growing husky. "I've wanted to do this since the moment I saw you."

  He dips his head to my neck, his lips traveling like silk across my collarbone and down my chest until he captures a nipple in his mouth, his warm, velvety mouth. The tip of his tongue teases me, working back and forth across my tender skin. A noise I don't recognize hums in the back of my throat.

  He holds himself above me, leaning on an elbow, and his free hand, oh, his free hand…it skims all over my body. Down my stomach, around my back to make it arch, across my hips. He peels my panties down to my knees and traces the inside of a thigh, slowly and teasingly in looping circles, up, up, up until he's exactly where I ache for him to be.

  "You're so wet," he says, his voice heavy with need. A pleased little hum thrums in his throat as he touches me. Unbidden, Gage comes to mind, and how ready he always found me, too, and the way I'm responding to Luca feels like a betrayal even worse than the first. But then Luca's sliding his fingers inside of me, and I forget about everything other than the way he works them against me.

  He's unexpectedly gentle, his fingers coaxing me so there's a slow, sweet build of heat under my skin traveling down, down, down. Hotter. Heavier. My breath comes in gasps and I'm grabbing out at the sheets, weaving them through my hands. My hips start to roll with the rhythm he's stroking, and that languid heat in my belly bursts into something more intense.

  I need more. So much more.

  I moan his name and let my own hand travel down the warm, tight skin of his chest until it slides over the soft fabric of his boxers. He's hard. Ready. I pull him out of his shorts and shift further under him, working my hand along him until he's moaning, too.

  I slide beneath him, wanting to feel his full weight above me, needing that solidness. The scent of him, that spiced vanilla aroma, is everywhere, everywhere. His mouth glides across my breasts and up my neck and along my jaw until I'm turning my face to meet his lips with my own, still needing more. Needing more. Needing more.

  My mind is so close to going blank. So, so close.

  I work my lips along his jaw and glide my tongue across his neck—making him shudder—to taste the sweet saltiness of his skin, only for a moment before he captures my mouth again with his own.

  "Luca," I whisper his name a second time, against his kiss. "Do you have a—"

  He shushes me and pulls himself, smoothly, from my grasp. "I want you on my tongue, first."

  His words jolt through me, filling me with a tension that leaves me quivering—and then his lips are on my stomach, his tongue tracing a line of velvet down my skin. His breath fluctuates from warm to cool, raising goose bumps along my flesh. Lower, and lower, he nips at me until the wetness of his mouth is directly between my legs.

  His tongue sweeps across me, unhurried and smooth. His hands splay across my ribs, and as he burrows his tongue deeper, deeper, that pressure in my belly heats until it's sparking, sparking, sparking. I plead to him, but I don't know for what. All I know is that I never want him to stop and I'm twisting, turning, overcome with rushing sensation after sensation until my body is nothing more than a pulsing, arching, begging space of pleasure.

  I have no chance to come back to my senses before he's working his mouth up my body until it finds mine. There's the briefest break as he reaches across the bed to a drawer in his nightstand and then, lips back on mine, he slips on a condom. One more slight pause, in which I have to bite my tongue to keep from begging, as he pulls away, over me, to study my face. I don't know what he sees, I can't control my expression—I can't control anything at this point, my body is a bundle of hot, sweet nerves—but he gives a small pleased shake of his head and—oh, finally—lowers himself into me.

  Sweet and slow, trailing kisses along my neck. Again, he's gentler than I expect.

  But I need more than gentleness. I need my mind to go blank.

  I push against him with my hips, harder and faster, watching the concentration in his expression unravel, until he matches me, force for force. Smoothly, he rolls under me, letting me take the lead. Straddling him, I pause, just to take in the expression on his face—to watch as desire darkens into something almost dangerous—and then I begin to rock my hips over him. His hands slide up to my breasts, his thumbs working over my nipples, and I lean back to grip his thighs, taking him in even deeper than before.

  "Oh, God, yes." He speaks the words, but they're mine, as well.

  His hands trail lower, kneading at my skin, and then he's using his fingers against me again, and I find myself about to tip over the edge.

  So close, so close.

  My entire body is humming, vibrating.

  "Cassidy. Come." His demand is a raspy whisper and I do exactly as he requests. I lose control, completely, to the thrills pummeling through me. His entire body tightens and I shudder above him, my head dropping back, slack with the heat rushing through my veins. It centers into my belly and braids into waves of hot pleasure, spiraling all the way through my body.

  I come completely, deliciously undone.

  After, still quivering with fading echoes of pleasure, I slide down next to Luca, breathless.

  "This," he says with a devilish grin, "was definitely worth the early wake up."

  I'd agree, but I have no breath.

  We lie together for a few minutes in silence. He watches me. I watch the ceiling, unable to meet his eyes quite yet. I can't believe I just slept with Luca James.

  I can't believe how badly I already want to do it again.

  His sheets are soft against my skin, and they smell like Luca, sweet and spicy. I have a sudden urge to roll through them until they've draped my entire body in their delicate silkiness. Or maybe that's ju
st the way Luca's trailing his fingers along the skin of my stomach. With delicate silkiness. Craving rouses in my blood.

  As if he can read my mind—or perhaps, just my body—his touch turns forceful, pressing into my skin, twisting in circles and in other ways that have my pulse flying.

  "Are you tired?" he asks.

  "Not even a little." My body is stirring all over again.

  "Good girl." He trails a finger between my legs, touching me so, so lightly, and it comes away slick. He licks it, slowly, dragging his finger across his lips, and I almost lose it at the desire in his eyes.

  Another reach over to the nightstand and a moment later, with a rough little bite against my lower lip, he's back above me, pressing me down into the bed. I wrap my legs around him and he slams back inside of me. There's no gentleness this time. Just skin shoved against skin until we're both a little raw.

  In the absolute best way.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  At some point I must fall asleep, because there's a jolt beneath me and I wake with a start on the edge of the bed. I roll over, automatically seeking Gage, but it's Luca staring back at me.

  Luca.

  Not Gage.

  I wish regret weren't such a strong force between my ribs.

  "How long…" I pause to clear the sleep from my throat and notice the gentle bumping of the bed beneath me. "We're already on the road?"

  He nods. "We left about an hour ago."

  "An hour?" I need to stop stating the obvious, but I'm a little confused. I slept through the bus leaving? I sit up, but the motion beneath me makes me dizzy for a split second. It's weird, falling asleep stationary and waking up moving along a potholed road. "Guess I was more tired than I thought."

  "You look… Are you having doubts?"

  "No!" But the truth is, I wish it were Gage lying next to me. God. I miss him already. He must hate me now, and the knowledge of it makes my chest hurt. And what I did before falling asleep with Luca? That pounded the nail into the coffin. No pun intended.

  I stretch my arms overhead and roll my neck as though there are kinks to work out, just needing the excuse to turn my face from Luca's gaze. I have to get it together.