“Oh, Rocky.” She leaned forward, placing her elbows on the table and cupping her head in her hands as she looked at him. Desire, hope, fear, confusion, they all clashed together in her dark eyes, and he understood every one of them. Hell, he felt every single one of them. But he knew in his gut that pushing past all the doubt would be so sweet.
“I’m tired,” he confessed.
“Of what? The tour? The band?”
“Essere invisible.”
Their stares clashed across the table. Hers filled with surprise and concern. Lita reached out, tightening her fingers on his, the simple gesture kicking up his need to pull her into his arms and end all the talking.
“You want to be seen?”
“By one person.”
“Me?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. Under his touch, he felt her pulse kick and give away the excitement at his words that her face did not betray.
“You. I want you to see me.” He got up from the table and went to stand in front of her, looking down as she lifted her head and returned his steady gaze. He had to give it to Lita— this might be freaking her out, but she wasn’t shrinking from it. She was facing it head-on with him.
And that is how he knew. She was it.
“Why me?”
That was easy.
“Because I love you.”
“What?”
He reached down, grasped her arms, and hauled her to her feet, body-to-body from thigh to chest, breaths mingling.
“I love you.”
“Those are big words.”
“Yes, they are.” He watched her steadily, his hands coming to rest on her hips, enough to keep her from bolting but not enough to spook her.
“Those big words can hurt, do a lot of damage.”
And there it was again, the fear clouding the bright spark in her eyes and dimming her smile. God, what he would do to erase that, and how many times did he regret that he was one of the many who’d put it there?
“Yes, they can, and when you’re as big a guy as I am, you learn early to be careful around fragile things.” He pulled her closer, leaning in to nuzzle the soft skin of her cheek, tracing a path across her skin until he stopped and whispered in her ear. “I don’t know who all these guys were who hurt you, who made you afraid of those words, but I’m not them. You don’t have to worry about me. I’m only going to love you, make you feel good, make you happy.”
“So many words,” she murmured, her fingernails digging lightly into his back, her body equal parts tension and longing.
“You don’t like the words?” He pulled back to look at her, smiling at the dazed and half confused expression on her face. He was half-drunk on whatever magic elixir they created between them. “Fine. No more words. I’ll show you.”
He sank to his knees at her feet, pushing her back until her ass rested against the edge of the dinner table, meal forgotten with the feast available to him.
Rocky gazed up at her, never breaking eye contact as he reached up and undid the button on her pants, easing down the zipper. He hooked fingers into her waistband, pulling her garment down and off her legs and tossing them to the side on the deck.
She was wearing these tiny wisps of coral lace and butterflies that failed miserably if they were meant to conceal all the dips and curves of her sex. He leaned forward, burying his face and inhaling her scent. She bucked against his mouth, her body seeking the pleasure he could give her, and his cock throbbed in his jeans. Dying to open his pants and jack himself, he held back, making this part all about her.
He leaned back, continuing to look up at her as he eased a finger underneath the flimsy silk, past the folds of her sex, and into the hot, wet depths of her body. He stroked her boldly, adding a second finger, spurred on by the ecstasy on her face, the gasps escaping from her parted lips. He had to speak.
“You’re so tight. You hug my finger like you never want me to leave.” She pressed down with her body, taking a tentative ride on his digits. “Yeah, just like that Lita. I need you soft and open, ready for me. It’s going to be a wild ride.”
She whimpered and pressed down again, her eyes fluttering to half-mast, but still she didn’t shut him out. Lita was here with him, trusting him.
What a terrifying burden for a man.
What a gift.
Rocky snagged the flimsy straps of her underwear and tugged them down, taking care to toss the delicate silk onto the soft pile of her pants.
God, she was beautiful. The softest skin, glowing in the dusk as the sun slipped down behind the mountain ridge, its reflection a golden glow off the surface of the lake. She shone, she pulsed with her heat, and his body responded with the same beat.
He lowered his head, only breaking eye contact to taste her, to part her folds with his tongue. He stroked her, groaning when she parted her thighs, making room for him to lick and suck and wallow in her slick core. Lita’s fingers wove in his hair as her sounds of pleasure increased.
Moans. Whimpers. The words she mistrusted, spilling from her lips in a ragged, incoherent torrent.
He didn’t need to understand her; their meaning was clear. His heart heard her and worked to meet every demand, every plea she laid at his feet.
And when she came…
Jesus.
Nothing was ever going to eclipse the sight and sound of Lita shaking under him, draped over him as the tremors of her pleasure rocked her to the depths of her soul.
He didn’t need words to tell her he loved her, but they came spilling out of him as he buried his face in the soft curve of her body. “You are every song I have written or ever will write. You are the melody that keeps me awake at night. Your heartbeat is the only percussion, the thing that drives me.” Rocky lifted his head to look at her, needing to have that connection. “I love you.”
Chapter Fifteen
He was beautiful.
Rocky’s face in the twilight, dark angles and edges, glowed in the fading sunlight, the color matching the way his words made her feel inside. She was glowing, fire threatening to consume her slowly and reduce her to ash. She needed him.
“Rocky, I need you.”
The three words were like an order to him, and he rose to his feet, pulling her into a kiss. It was tongues and teeth and wet heat, and the taste of her on his lips. She moaned as he undid his belt and his jeans, pushing them and his underwear to his thighs. His boots would have to be removed for him to be completely naked, but she couldn’t bear the thought of letting him go long enough to let that happen. And the thought of him fucking her with his pants halfway down was a turn on, evidence of his need for her, his inability to wait even one more second.
“Up. Off.” She broke off the kiss to snag the hem of his T-shirt, yanking it over his head and leaving his hair disheveled and rumpled. Lita ran her hands over his chest, loving the crisp slide of his hair against her fingertips. It was delicious, and she was glad that Rocky wasn’t one of those guys who waxed. He was perfect.
“Take off your top, baby. I want to see your tits.” Rocky opened the condom wrapper, hissing out slowly when he eased it on his large, stiff erection.
She complied willingly, wanting to be skin-to-skin as much as possible. She craved his touch, her body aching for him to cover her with his weight, to fill her with his heat.
Rocky moved their forgotten dishes aside, ignoring the crash and thud and the pungent smell of spilled wine when items toppled off the table. Lita leaned back on the surface, legs open, inviting him in.
Rocky draped himself over her, the head of his cock pressing against her slight resistance, and then he was there—the entire length of him filling her to overflowing. She gasped, wiggled beneath him, dying for him to move, to make her feel good. No games. No slow build-up. She just wanted him.
She bit down on his shoulder with a growl, her primal prompting spurring him into action. Rocky leaned up on his forearms, eyes locked as he began to move inside her, a slow glide of skin that made her crazy, brought her to t
he brink, and held her suspended over a cavern with no net.
She held on tighter, trusting this man and his beautiful words to catch her.
Two separate livewires, they were a direct current, seemingly flowing in opposite directions, arcs never meeting until they did, and then it was with a jolt of fire and sizzle. It could be dangerous, but the ride was worth the danger.
“I’ve dreamed of you this way. Taking me under the big sky. Out here everything feels endless.” He brushed a soft kiss against her lips, dipping his tongue inside in a perfect mimic of the movement of his hips. “Out here, we feel endless.”
“Yes,” she agreed. With the boundless navy blue sky over his shoulders, his body inside her. They did feel endless. Invincible. “Rocky, please.”
He lifted higher, the shift of the angle wrenching a gasp from her and causing her body to grind against his. She was going crazy. Drowning in this.
“You want me to fuck you harder?’
“Yes.” Was that her voice? That husky, breathless sex goddess purr? Air rushed out of her lungs when he leaned back and folded her legs higher, opening all of her to his new, jarring, intense pace.
His eyes blazed with his need, the darkness of his passion spilling out and drawing her own to the surface, pulling her body into a taut bow of “help-me-I’m-almost-there” insanity.
She came hard, her voice harsh and loud into the night air. Rocky came, too, his fingers digging deeply into her thighs, enough to leave a bruise. He thrust hard against her, pumping deep as he ground out a groan in between his clenched teeth before collapsing on top of her in a tangled mess of sweat, heat, and sex.
His body heat warded off the chill from the lake, and she soaked him in. The only sounds were their breaths, the lap of the water against the deck pilings, the evensong of the birds. It was perfect except for one thing.
“I believe you,” she murmured against his neck, following the words with a soft kiss.
“Good.” His face buried in her hair muffled his reply, but she heard it.
“I love you.”
If he hadn’t gone perfectly still, she would have wondered if he heard, and then he shifted his weight, leaning over her, a smile on his face.
“Even better.”
Chapter Sixteen
“Rocky, we’ve got to talk about this press release,” Jules said.
Even if Rocky’s arm hadn’t been wrapped around her waist, Lita would have seen the transformation on her lover’s face and felt it in his body. In an instant, it was as if the last day hadn’t happened at all. Gone was the relaxed, carefree lover at the cabin, replaced by the wary anti-publicity Rocky. He went to high alert with his muscles tight, body poised to fight or flee, she wasn’t one hundred percent positive which way it would go until he responded.
“No. We really don’t.”
Okay. He was going to fight.
Jules approached him as they fully entered the large room at the back of the mansion. Rocky dropped their overnight bags on the floor and headed over to the coffee maker, tugging her along with him. He was a toucher, always keeping contact through holding hands, an arm draped around her waist, fingers twisted in her hair. It was as if he needed the connection and Lita was totally okay with it, she loved the “mine” caveman possessive vibe it displayed.
She liked belonging to Rocky. It wasn’t very modern or cool, but it was the truth. She’d never really belonged to anyone that way without some other motivation behind it, and it was heady, this sensation of having someone by her side. Lita squeezed his hand, and he glanced at her, flashing a quick grin before letting her go and preparing them two steaming cups of coffee.
“No. We really do,” Jules persisted.
Lita did not look forward to this clash of wills. She’d done lots of deals with Jules, and the woman had a backbone of titanium and fierce determination.
“I’m sure you noticed the exponential increase in press down at the gates when you came back on the property. My phone and email have been flooded with questions and requests for interviews. I presume yours has been the same.”
He turned to face her, casually leaning against the open barstool next to him as he sipped his drink. He pulled Lita against him as he answered, “I turned off my phone, and I haven’t even thought about checking my email, but I’m sure you’re right.”
From the frazzled and exhausted look on her face, Lita guessed that Jules’s characterization of the media frenzy created was likely downplaying the actual insanity that had broken loose when the press release had hit the media outlets. If this had been the Rolling Stones, then Rocky would have been Charlie Watts, the quiet, press-avoiding drummer who was the perfect counterpoint to the raucous Mick Jagger and Keith Richards. If any scandal had ever surfaced about that guy, it would have induced a tsunami of press interest due to the sheer fact that his name wasn’t in the paper every other minute.
Rocky was the same. He was so good at flying below the radar that when he surfaced, it caught everyone’s attention.
She’d bet her favorite pair of Calliope Shoes that Jules hadn’t gotten an hour of sleep last night.
“So you know that we’ve got to set something up pretty quick to address everyone’s questions.”
“Jules, I’m going to cut this conversation short and stop wasting your time because the answer is always going to be no. I think the press release provides all the details they need, and I am unwilling to sit down in front of a camera and let a bunch of strangers get any glimpse of how I feel about the cold, hard, and pretty shitty facts about my life.” He slid his gaze to the others, acknowledging his band mates and their partners as he continued. “Guys, I’m sorry for adding to the shit storm, but I had no choice but to get my version out there before this guy sold it to the highest bidder.”
“We get it,” Dash answered. “It just sucks that you had to do it at all.”
“That doesn’t change the fact that if we schedule the interview, then this will die down faster,” Jules said, unwilling to drop the topic. “Lita, you know he needs to do this, and I know you wrote the press release. You talk to him.”
If Jules thought she was going to go against Rocky on this, she needed to call the cops and fill out a missing items report, because she had lost her mind.
“Hey, Rocky has always been the mystery man in the band. This will add to his appeal to the fans. The more he holds in, the more they’ll want him. Most girls love the guy who cannot be pinned down,” she said.
“I’m pretty pinned right now,” he said and leaned over to brush a kiss on her temple.
Lita pressed back, noticing the surprise in Jules expression and the smug smirk and fist bump exchanged by Lori and Callie. She’d bet a million dollars they would claim this as a matchmaking success that they executed perfectly and according to plan. She was happy enough to let them have their supposed victory.
“Another one bites the dust,” Laz sang softly from his perch on the sofa. He dodged the pinch from Sydney and added, laughing, “Welcome to the club, Rocky.”
She waited for Rocky to deliver his usual “fuck off” or to flip him the bird, but he didn’t. All he did was tug her closer and press a kiss against her hair.
“Is that a final no?” Jules asked, her tone pleading, but her expression said she knew that she wasn’t going to get her way.
“That’s a final no,” Rocky said.
“Can I release information about you and Lita then? It might refocus the interest.” She threw her pen down on the counter in frustration when he shook his head. Lita felt sorry for her. Their jobs weren’t dissimilar, and it killed you to sit on a good story when you had one.
“No. People will figure it out.”
“Come on, throw me a bone, Rocky. Give me something,” Jules said, her fatigue starting to show.
Rocky must have sensed it, because he softened his tone and left her side to throw an arm around the publicist’s shoulders. “I’m not trying to jerk you around, Jules. I just can’t sit down w
ith some stranger and spill my guts about this.”
“Then sit down with Lita. She isn’t a stranger. We could give her the exclusive,” Jules said, and Lita had to give her props for persistence.
“I don’t think so,” Lita answered. She was prepared for the test of wills to continue, but so grateful for Callie interrupting the argument that appeared to head to nowhere.
“Sorry to break this up, but we’ve all got to head over to the ballroom to have a quick wedding rehearsal with the wedding planner.” She smiled at Lita, a “you’re welcome” gleam in her eyes, and Lita flashed what she hoped was thanks in her own.
Rocky walked over to her and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her close for a thorough but all-too-brief kiss. He had a goofy smile on his face when he pulled back, and she could only guess that she had the same one on her own.
“I’ll see you later,” Rocky murmured before brushing his lips against her cheek and whispering in her ear. “Love you.”
“Love you, too,” she said, watching him walk away with his band mates, Callie, and Lori. They immediately started shoving and joking each other. The words “whipped” and “the bigger they are, the harder they fall” drifted back to her. She guessed that Rocky was the focus of their attention, a circumstance he’d probably have to get used to for the foreseeable future. Years of proclaiming that he would never fall earned him the honor of taking their shit. No worries, she’d make sure he thought it was worth it later tonight.
“Lita.”
The sound of Jules right next to her snapped her out of what she had planned for Rocky later in their room. She turned and instantly knew she wasn’t going to like this chat. Jules resembled a bulldog.
“Lita, you really need to convince Rocky to do the interview.”
No. She really didn’t.
“Jules, I get it. I do. Our jobs are very similar, and I know how much you want to jump on this story while it’s hot, but I’m not going to convince him to do something that he doesn’t want to do.”
Playing With the Drummer Page 12
