Bennett

Home > Romance > Bennett > Page 15
Bennett Page 15

by Sybil Bartel


  For three heartbeats, I didn’t move. I didn’t even fucking blink.

  Then I leaned over and brought my lips to hers. “You are mine, Elyssia Maher, and with all my heart, I am yours. You’ve had me since the first time you smiled at me.”

  “Don’t make me cry,” she whispered.

  “No other woman has ever had a piece of me. Only you.” I took her hand and put it on my heart. “You own me.” I kissed her, slow and deep, and I showed her how I fucking felt.

  I didn’t want any other woman. I’d never wanted another woman. I’d fucked them, but I’d never wanted them, not like this. Not like I wanted to belong to this woman as much as I wanted her to belong to me. She was good and pure and so unaffected about everything in life, I wanted to hold on to that.

  I wanted to marry the girl who laughed when she landed on her ass in karate. I wanted to protect the woman who loved her brother so fiercely, she was willing to sacrifice herself to save him. I wanted to give her everything I never had growing up, and I wanted to show her that my fucking sun set and rose with her.

  Weaving my fingers through hers, I brought our hands back to my chest. “I want you to have my name, Elyssia, and I want you happy. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.” That and to be inside her. Jesus, I wanted to take her again.

  Her body stiffened and her mouth opened with a perfect O. “Are you asking me to marry you?”

  I kissed her once and fought a smile because only she would ask that question with utter innocence. “I’m telling you what my intentions are so you don’t have any doubts.” I kissed the frown lines between her eyes. “Believe me, you’ll know when I ask. But I’m not asking you right now. I know we need to get your brother taken care of, and I’m not putting any more pressure on you.” I wouldn’t do that to her.

  “Why now?” she whispered.

  I’d been waiting for the question, and I didn’t have an answer other than the truth. I’d already waited too damn long to tell her how I felt. “I was looking forward to this break in our touring schedule for a year. I was working my as—I was working hard and trying to come up with a hundred different ways to tell you how I felt until I realized all I was doing was wasting time.” I squeezed her hand, hating myself for waiting. “I’m sorry. I should’ve come for you sooner.” If I had, then she never would’ve taken the brunt of Marcus’s problems on her own, or have gotten hurt. I’d have to live with that guilt.

  “Don’t apologize.”

  I’d be apologizing for a long damn time for that, but I didn’t know if I could ever make up for leaving her alone after her mother died. “If I had to do it all over again, I would’ve brought you on tour with me after Helen passed.”

  She looked at our hands. “I wouldn’t have come.”

  “Why not?”

  “Marcus’s deployment was almost up. I had a feeling he wouldn’t reenlist, and he didn’t.” She gaze drifted. “I wanted to be here when he got home.”

  I couldn’t have competed with that, and I never would have tried. Not a year ago. But now that I’d had her, I wasn’t letting her go. I’d either figure out a way to convince her to come with me or I’d tell Myles I was leaving the band. But now wasn’t the time to broach the subject. “You should get some rest.” I detangled our hands and pulled the covers over her. “I’ll let you know if I hear anything from Hank.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  Drum until the pounding need to fuck her again wasn’t so damn intense. “Practice.”

  She looked off toward the windows.

  I brushed her soft hair from her face. “What is it?”

  “Can you lie with me?”

  This time, I did smile. “Yeah, beautiful, I can.” I kicked my boots off and crawled in. Sliding an arm under her head, I pulled her to me as gently as possible, and with her back to my chest, I kissed her temple. “You okay with this?”

  “I’m good.”

  “Your back?”

  “I’m okay,” she insisted.

  “Elyssia,” I warned.

  “No, really, I am.”

  Neither of us were strangers to sore muscles or the occasional bruising, so I knew she had a high threshold for pain, but I didn’t want to add to that. “Thank you for being honest earlier.”

  She was quiet a moment. “You shouldn’t have to thank me for being honest.”

  I didn’t know if this was an apology for Marcus, or what, so I kept my mouth shut.

  “I didn’t want to lie to you.” She traced a finger over my hand.

  “You were protecting him.” I didn’t have siblings, not by blood, so I didn’t fully get it, but I understood it.

  “He’s protected me my whole life.”

  “Until recently.” I wasn’t going to let her ignore that.

  “He was trying his best.”

  My jaw ticked, and I fought like hell to stay calm. “I’m not sympathetic toward him, Elyssia.” No fucking way. Not while she was bruised to hell.

  “I know.”

  I took a deep breath and stroked her hair. “Get some rest.”

  “Can I ask you something?”

  “Anything.” Jesus, it felt good having her in my arms and not on fucking oxygen.

  “Are you happy… doing what you do?”

  I thought about the best way to answer because I knew where she was going. She hated crowds and confined spaces, and she always looked happiest outdoors or on the mats at karate. It was fucking ironic that she worked in a nightclub and sat in a small room collecting door fees, but I suspected she did it because it left her days free to teach the younger kids at karate.

  I brushed my hand down her arm. “I love playing.”

  “You’re really good at it,” she said quickly.

  The corner of my mouth tipped up. “Thank you.” I kissed her again and continued. “Like I said, I love playing, and the fact that I get paid for it is amazing. But the amount I make and the freedom that money affords, it’s nothing short of a miracle. I know how incredibly lucky we are to have made it this big. I’m not ungrateful, but that kind of paycheck comes with strings, and I could do without the fans or the touring.”

  “Do you ever think about not doing it?”

  All the damn time. “Yes.” I’d been careful as hell the past couple years, and I’d invested almost everything I’d made in real estate on the advice of Neil, and it’d panned out. I could retire tomorrow and be okay.

  She settled into me and her voice got quieter. “Oh.”

  I half smiled. “Is there more to that question?”

  “No.”

  I gave her more anyway. “I’m not going to tour forever.” My cell vibrated, and I glanced at the display then put it back on the nightstand.

  An edge drifted into her tone. “You should tour while the band’s popular.” She glanced toward the nightstand. “And you should answer your phone.”

  “Myles can wait.” I rolled her to her back so I could see her face when I said what I wanted to say. “I could walk away from the band tomorrow.”

  She instantly frowned. “Why would you do that?”

  Because I knew she hated that life. “I don’t need the money.”

  She pulled her hand out of mine. “That would be career suicide. And stupid.”

  I studied her face, wanting to see hope, not frustration. “I don’t need the fame.”

  Irritation filtered into her tone. “Why would you walk away from something you worked so hard at?”

  It meant nothing without her. I went for broke. “Make a life with me.”

  She went so still, she didn’t even blink.

  I stroked her cheek. “We’ll make it whatever you want,” I promised, as my phone vibrated again.

  “You should get that.”

  Frustrated, I snatched the phone and answered without looking at the display. “What?”

  “You watching the news?” Myles asked.

  “Marcus?” Elyssia whispered.

  I shook my head and mouthed Myles
. “No.” I slipped my arm out from under her and got up. “Should I be?”

  “A tropical storm turned into a hurricane, and it’s coming up the west coast. It’s not going to be a direct hit, but weather and traffic from people evacuating are going to be a bitch.”

  Shit. I walked to the living room, reminding Myles of our fucking geography. “We’re not on the west coast.” Ocala was far enough inland to avoid the brunt of most hurricanes that hit Florida.

  “No, but our exit strategy is. We need to get on the road tonight if we don’t want to get stuck in this beast’s path. I canceled our show at Seven-oh-One for tomorrow night and moved it up to tonight. We’ll hit the road after we play.”

  Fuck. I sank on to the couch. “I can’t.”

  “Thought you’d say that. Neil called yesterday. I already contacted our backup drummer, but he’s out. We had this break planned in the books for a year, so the fucker took off to Tahiti or some shit, and now because of the storm, he can’t get a flight back. He said he won’t be back in the States until next week at the earliest. Our shows are sold out, you don’t have a choice. You’re playing.”

  Shit, shit, shit. “Goddamn it, Neil’s a prick for saying something.”

  Myles sighed. “Look, can she travel? We’ll make room for her.”

  “That’s not the issue.” I rubbed a hand over my face.

  “Well, do what you gotta do, but be at Seven-oh-One by eight for sound check.” Myles hung up.

  I tossed my cell on the coffee table.

  “What’s wrong?”

  I looked up, and my heart fucking skipped. She was so damn beautiful, I didn’t know how I’d left her for the road, let alone kept my hands off her for so damn long.

  “A tropical storm turned into a hurricane and the tour bus needs to get on the road so we don’t miss our next gig.”

  She nodded slowly. “When are you leaving?”

  I couldn’t not tell her, but fuck, this wasn’t how I wanted to do this. “Myles switched tomorrow’s show at Seven-oh-One to tonight and the bus is taking off afterward.”

  Nothing in her expression changed as she glanced out the windows at the deceptively sunny day. “You need to pack.”

  “Come here.” I wasn’t doing this without touching her.

  Slow, careful, she walked toward me, but she stopped two feet away.

  “Closer,” I commanded.

  She took a step, but she didn’t close the whole distance.

  Impatient, I grabbed her hand and pulled her onto my lap. “I have to be at sound check by eight. That means we have a couple hours.” I waited for a protest, but when she didn’t say anything, I soldiered on. “I want you to come with me.”

  She started to get up.

  “Hold on. Hear me out.”

  She was already shaking her head. “No. You don’t know what you’re asking me to do.”

  I knew exactly what I was asking. Like a fucking bastard, I was asking her to choose me over her brother. “I’m going to call Talon and ask him to find Marcus and get him checked in. He has a friend who owns a private security firm. They can handle this. Then I want you to pack a bag and come with me. We have hotels at every stop, and there’s room on the tour bus.”

  Her face twisted. “Like a groupie?”

  “I’m not asking you to go to the shows. I’m asking you to be with me. And I’m not even going to address the groupie comment, because you know what you mean to me.”

  “For how long?” Nothing in her expression changed.

  Hope surged. “Until the tour is done.”

  “Then what?”

  I stroked her arm, her back, foolishly thinking I had a fucking chance. “Then we figure this out.”

  “So.” She inhaled, and something close to anger bled into her tone. “I put my life on hold for you and leave my brother while he’s falling apart.”

  My jaw fucking ticked. “I wouldn’t ask if I felt safe leaving you here alone.” Marcus wasn’t fucking falling apart. He’d already fallen.

  “Why don’t you just ask Talon to babysit me too?”

  “Elyssia,” I warned. “This isn’t a joke.”

  “No, it’s not. And just because we… slept together—” Her throat moved with a swallow. “—that doesn’t mean I’m some girl who follows the band around.”

  What the fuck? “You know you’re more than that.” Had she heard a damn word I’d said?

  She pushed off my lap. “Go pack, Ben.”

  I was on my feet so fast, I didn’t think about what I was doing. I grabbed her face and stepped into her. “Goddamn it, I’m trying to protect you.”

  “Well, stop it. Go be a rock star!”

  I kissed her.

  I kissed her so fucking hard because this wasn’t anger pouring off her, it was fear. Fear she would lose her brother, fear she would lose me. Hell, she’d told me she was scared, and I wasn’t fucking listening. But now I was.

  Stroking through her mouth, swallowing her groan, I held her tight against my hard cock and regretfully pulled back to look down at her. “Come with me.” I wanted her on the goddamn tour bus.

  “No.” Breathy, soft, there was zero force behind her reply.

  I saw my in and shamelessly took it. I ground against her hips and gripped her ass. “I’ll have someone looking for him within a few hours.” I’d pay André Luna triple his going rate if I had to. “They’ll find him.” I stroked her face.

  Her eyes fluttered shut. “I don’t want your money.”

  Goddamn it, I’d forgotten how proud her mother had been when I’d tried to pay her house off. It’d taken a damn nurse warning her to tie her shit up to get her to agree. Her daughter was just like her. “It’s not for you. It’s for Marcus.”

  She looked up at me. “Now who’s lying?”

  “Then tell me what you want,” I demanded.

  First determination, then a innocent shyness slid across her features. Her lips touched my neck. “Just you.”

  My dick surged, but I held back from taking her mouth again. “Come with me. Let’s do this together.”

  “We can’t do this together.” She boldly tugged at my jeans and unbuttoned them. “You’re the drummer, not me.” Her hand wrapped around my hard cock.

  Growling, I picked her up. “Goddamn it, you know what I mean.”

  Her legs wrapped around my waist, and I didn’t wait for a response. I was blindly kissing her, taking what I wanted, until she pulled on my hair to get my lips off hers.

  “Bedroom,” she panted.

  “You’re too sore,” I protested, but Jesus, I wanted to fucking take her again.

  “I’m not.” Her tongue swirled across my neck.

  I was already walking to my bedroom, wondering how the fuck I’d resisted her for so many years. I didn’t want to think about the time wasted or the damn tour. I wanted to live in the moment. It was why I foolishly, stupidly, didn’t ask again about the tour.

  HIS STRONG ARMS CARRIED me as if I weighed nothing, before he set me down in front of his bed. “I should say no to you right now, but I’m selfishly not.” His lips landed back on mine.

  I was lost. Lost in him so deep, I didn’t want to ever surface, because nothing in life felt this good, or smelled this incredible. I never knew sex had a perfume. Musky and sharp, full of swirling nerves and heady thirst, the scent of our two bodies together had marked me as sure as my initials were permanently etched into his flesh.

  I wanted Ben Stark.

  I wanted him inside me.

  I wanted him beside me.

  I wanted him to be my savior.

  And I wanted to be his every desire.

  I wanted him to play me like he played his drums, but mostly I wanted to feel his desire for me days after he left.

  That need, sharp and painful, was what drove away any and all shyness over my inexperience and had me pulling my shirt over my head and discarding my bra as if it’d offended me.

  His intense gaze cut to my breasts, and my nip
ples hardened to the point of pain.

  “Make love to me,” I whispered.

  For one heart-stopping second, his eyes closed. When they opened, they were full of a determination I didn’t want to see. “Your back.”

  Out of words and out of my league, I did the only thing I could think of. I pushed my pants and underwear over my hips and down my legs, then I lay back on the bed.

  Determination bled into hunger as his heated gaze swept the length of my body, but he didn’t move. Not until I spread my legs.

  His hard length pulsed, and he pulled his shirt over his head one-handed as he stepped out of his jeans. With a featherlight touch, the tips of his fingers coasted over my ankle and up the inside of my calf.

  He didn’t say words of encouragement or even love.

  He didn’t have to.

  His body told a story I would reread for years.

  His chest heaving, his nostrils flaring with each inhale, the blood rushing to his cock, he dragged his fingers to my core and touched my desire like he was in pain.

  “So beautiful,” his usually quiet voice rasped as a single finger slid inside me. “And mine.”

  “Yours,” I agreed, because I’d never belonged to anyone else.

  Slow, torturous, he stroked a finger in and out of me as he gripped himself and matched his rhythm. “Tell me how sore you are.”

 

‹ Prev