Donovan realized that he probably would, more than he usually did.
Their floor contained a large sitting area and several suites. And lots of people, although more would arrive before the week was out. They’d better.
“Hi!” He felt Allie falter when Jace came out of the suite in the corner and sauntered toward them. He embraced Jace and slapped his back before turning to his companions. “Allison J. Bartz, this is Jace Beauchene. Jace, this is Elliott Moore, my literary agent. He’s staying here a few days.”
Jace raised a dark brow. “Welcome to the madhouse.” His distinctive Southern drawl infected Donovan and, as always, made him smile. The blend of characters and origins helped to make the band what it was—eclectic, exciting and different.
“A change from my usual madhouse, but it’ll be interesting.” Elliott shook his head when Jace offered his hand. “Germs. I’m getting over the flu.”
“Fuck that, man.” Jace grabbed Elliott’s hand anyway and shook it. “Notice I’m not rushing away to wash. You won’t be contagious anymore anyhow.”
“Where are the others?” Donovan asked.
“Beverley’s out somewhere with Chick. They’re due back any minute.”
“They went to check something at the venue.” The voice preceded the person, but once Matt was out of another of the rooms, there was no mistaking him. Matt had been the band’s vocalist, but now he’d opened his own studio and produced the third album, the one currently soaring up every chart it was eligible for. Dark-haired, tall, deep-voiced, Matt had an unmistakable presence. People looked at him when he entered the scene, any scene, but his brand of easy friendship usually put people at ease. Especially since he’d met V, the band’s saxophonist. Sultry, sexy, utterly gorgeous and totally monogamous, much to Donovan’s regret. Well, he didn’t mind so much now.
Allie followed Matt into the hallway, and then the living area Donovan had glimpsed through the open double doors. “So which room is free?” Donovan asked. He made introductions all over again. “Allie’s an editor with Casterbridge.”
She pulled a wry face. “Not for much longer, unless—”
Elliott raised a brow. “Unless you can get Donovan to sign with them.”
Allie stiffened, then sighed. “My boss wants me to do it. But Donovan knows that.” Donovan didn’t want that discussion yet. He’d already made his decision and he’d bet Allie knew it too. What she did was up to her, but he wanted to persuade her to think of alternatives. Show her a taste of life on the road and see if she could tolerate it. Or make the decision that would mean the band leave him behind. Before Allie, he’d never have considered leaving Murder City Ravens, but with a potential literary career and a woman he badly wanted to hold on to, he might not have a choice.
“If you’re quick, you can grab the other corner suite,” Jace suggested. “Chick has the one that opens on to this area, V grabbed the one on the other side, but the corner suites are real nice. Windows on two sides of the bedroom.”
“Taken,” Donovan said. “So where’s Riku? And Hunter?”
“Sightseeing. They’re staying somewhere else, avoiding the insanity, but they’ll arrive by the middle of the week.” Jace rubbed his chin. “I’ve had an idea I want to go over.”
“Beverley not keeping you busy enough?”
A slow smile spread over Jace’s features. “Plenty busy.”
Donovan still found it hard to believe that Jace had hooked up with super-organizer Beverley. Jace and Donovan shared the title of band slobs, but at least Donovan tried to keep tidy. Things, inanimate objects, tended to get away from him. Jace just spread his stuff around him.
“So is there room for Elliott, or do we have to book him a room on another floor?”
“Nah, plenty of room,” Jace said without hesitation. “Go find a room, Elliott, dump your stuff there and it’s yours. Beverley sorted it all.”
“Not Bev?” Donovan said. “Still Beverley?”
“Yup, and hey, Don, who are you to fucking talk?” If Jace wasn’t grinning, his heavy-lidded eyes half closed, Donovan might have hit him. Nobody called him Don. Well, one person, but nobody else.
Contenting himself with a light punch to Jace’s arm, he turned away. “Let’s get that corner suite. Are you okay, Elliott?”
Elliott shrugged. “Fine, thanks. I could do with an hour to myself after that journey, thrilling though it was to see two hotel kitchens in one day. Do you know every kitchen from here to Chicago?”
“Pretty much.” Donovan grabbed Allie’s hand. “A nap sounds just fine.”
Except it wasn’t a nap he had in mind. He’d gone too fucking long without getting her to himself, and they had a bed to christen.
She was smiling, her cheeks flushed when he closed the door behind them. The suite had a bedroom that opened out through wide double doors on to a pleasant sitting area, which could be converted to another bedroom if they ran out of space. Not yet though. He left the sliding doors open but didn’t take his attention from her. “Do you need to rest?”
She shook her head.
“Good.” He advanced, seized her and took her in a rough, demanding kiss.
She returned it and pressed her body close to his, but he wanted more. Time to play games, see how far he could push her this time. The suite would have privacy glass, but would she know that?
“You’re mine, you know that? But how many people see you and want you? Do I have to show you off in front of everybody out there before you can accept that you’re mine?”
She stared up at him doubtfully, but he saw the barely there spark in her eyes and it set him off like a firecracker. Hot and ready to go. “Maybe I should make you wander around naked so everyone can see what a prize I have. But if anyone touches you, I might have to kill them. They can look, but they can never touch. Not unless I invite them to.”
“Will you?” Her voice was a whisper but she didn’t sound afraid. A low note of arousal throbbed at the back of her throat.
“Yes, I will, just to prove to you that you are completely and absolutely mine to do whatever I want with. Jace is supposed to be a good fuck. I haven’t heard any complaints. You like him, don’t you?”
She nodded and, despite knowing this was his game, a flare of jealousy took him by surprise. It added spice to the situation. “Take off your top and your bra. I want to see your nipples pucker.”
After a blink, she lowered her gaze to concentrate on her top. He thought of ripping it off her, but he liked the way the material followed her curves, softly suggesting the satin skin underneath. He’d like to see her in it again. Not that it compared with her body, slowly revealed when she peeled the top off. She stopped, dressed in a severely practical black bra that managed to turn him on far more than a confection of lace and ribbon might. It delineated the pale skin of her breasts, drawing attention to their sweet curves. He swallowed.
Watching him, she reached behind with both hands and unclipped the bra, but she didn’t take it off immediately, the witch. Instead, she teased him, revealing herself bit by bit, holding the fabric under her arms when she brought her hands forward again to stop the garment falling off. The straps fell down her shoulders. Only then did she let the bra fall.
Her nipples weren’t completely stiff, but the tips had beaded and darkened. He loved that she didn’t try to hide herself from him. He looked, taking his time, watching the skin crinkle a little more.
He lifted his gaze to her face and marked the flush sharpening her cheekbones. She liked him watching. “Do you think Jace would like that? He likes a good pair of tits.” He picked the cruder word deliberately and it had its effect. A sharp gasp sounded in the quiet of the room. “Very pretty.” He reached out and flicked one nipple. She bit her lip and he saw her throat move, but she didn’t make a sound. He’d make her scream before he was done.
“Maybe he’d look at them like this, touch them like this.” He cupped both breasts, pressing down, relishing the hard points pushing against his p
alms. “I think he’d like them. Would you like to share?”
She shook her head, then her eyes widened and she nodded. She wasn’t sure what she was supposed to respond.
But he didn’t smile to reassure her. He wanted her off balance for now. “Remember what I said? He can look, and maybe I’ll let him share, but you are mine. You can’t do that without permission, do you hear?”
Wetting her lips, she managed a small “Yes.”
He didn’t need “Master.” This wasn’t that kind of game. “Finish stripping, then I’ll decide if I want to call him.”
She unbuttoned her jeans, then slid down the zipper, torturing him with the slowness of her response, but he wouldn’t have it different. His cock was so hard, he was afraid the buttons on his jeans would leave an imprint on his flesh.
She turned around before she slid the jeans down her legs, displaying her silk-clad bottom. Pretty, feminine. He had a startling urge to bite, to test the firm skin with his teeth, but maybe another time. After undoing her running shoes, she slid them off and stepped out of her jeans.
“Stay there.” Walking forward, he palmed her arse, rubbed and then pushed the thin material off and down, leaving her completely naked. Her hair brushed her shoulders, hung over her face, so he pulled it back and tucked it behind her ears. The smooth silk teased his skin. He slid his fingers down over her neck, pausing to press his nails slightly into her shoulders, giving her the suggestion of pain. He kept his nails trimmed, and sometimes he played the guitar without a plectrum. His fingers had toughened up over the years. Hard enough to do more than tease if he wanted to, and she had to know it.
Parting her arse cheeks, he touched between, tested her readiness. Wet, soaking wet. Now, he wanted her now.
He stopped himself barely in time. “Wait there. No.” He had an idea. “Play with yourself, make yourself wet for me. And for Jace. You won’t know which of us takes you first, because you’re going to close your eyes, you hear me?”
“Yes.” She sounded subdued, but he could see part of her face reflected in the full-length mirror in the corner of the room. She didn’t look subdued. As their gazes clashed and held, he saw the sparks in her eyes had fired up to a fully-fledged blaze. She loved this. He loved her loving it.
“Close your eyes.” He tried to sound stern and must have managed it, because she did as he said. Then she put her fingers between her legs and he nearly lost it. Watching her play with her clit, one hand between her legs, the other holding on to a nearby chair to steady herself, he could have come on the spot, spurted over her skin, marked it with his essence.
Turning abruptly, he headed for a door at the side of the room, which turned out to be the bathroom, thank God. Fuck, Beverley knew her job well, and the people she was working for, because he found a box of condoms alongside the unwrapped toothbrushes and bottles of shampoo in the cabinet. He grabbed a couple, in case he screwed up putting on the first one. His hands were shaking now, he wanted her so much.
She was still in the position he left her in, eyes closed, one hand between her legs, busy playing with her clit, occasionally dipping into her pussy to collect more moisture to dampen her fingertips. She’d done this on her own. He loved watching her do this, practice, knowing what worked for her. Donovan watched and learned and went higher. Hastily, he unbuttoned his jeans, shoved his underwear out of the way and rolled the latex over his cock. It stood to attention, pointing at her, just where he wanted.
He didn’t step forward immediately. “Do you want me first, or Jace? Or maybe somebody else? I could call everyone in. Beverley might get a kick out of watching Jace with somebody else. How about Chick? Or maybe Riku? I know for a fact he likes women in multiples of two or more. He just lies back and lets them work on him. I’m sure he could slot you in.” One stride took him to her, barely reaching her. Just the tip of his cock teased her rounded buttock.
“Take the cock in your hand. Put it inside your body. Wherever you want it.” He deliberately referred to it as “the cock”, impersonal and non-sentient. Just a thing to use her, to take her and then go on to something else, its owner temporarily satiated.
She bent down further, exposing her sweet, puckered rosebud. Another time he’d tease it with his tongue, make her hold still while he readied her for his cock or his fingers. Because sure as hell he didn’t want to hurt her.
He had to bend his knees, but he remained steady as she reached between her legs and grasped his cock, clumsy because she still had her eyes closed. “Good,” he said, his voice barely a breath. “Do it.”
She pushed the head into her wet, hot opening. Swallowing his groan, Donovan leaned forward so he could thrust farther into her. In this position he met no resistance. “Feel it. Feel us.”
Superb, the very best. Nobody compared to her. Shit, he couldn’t remember anyone else. They didn’t matter. They might to someone else, another time, but not now and not for any point in the future. It just wasn’t possible.
He was buried deeply inside her now, in every way, not just physically. He looped one arm around her waist to steady her and began to drive them both to oblivion. Her hold on the chair helped her to brace herself against his thrusts as he rocked against her the way he sometimes rocked on stage, but then it was the imitation of ecstasy. This couldn’t get more real.
The sounds of their bodies connecting was the best music in the world, something he could never hope to imitate, their bodies slapping together in counterpoint, a rhythm so sweet, so perfect he’d never tire of it. He pulled her toward him, watched the mirror, saw her breasts bounce as he stroked inside her, watched her bite her lip and wanted to soothe the sting with his tongue.
The tattoo on his shoulder tightened as he moved, as he pulled her close. He couldn’t see his own face, but he knew how he must look, lost in her body. Fuck, he couldn’t keep up their game. She overwhelmed him.
She was still playing with her clit. He felt her fingers dance against him and wanted more, but then needed to watch, needed her to pleasure herself.
He felt the first quivers of her internal muscles as she cried his name, and that sent him over. With a yell, he came, her body clenching around his, milking him of everything he had to give.
Half laughing, shaken by the intensity of the experience, he leaned forward and kissed her shoulder blade. “Fuck, you are so good at this.” He wanted to tell her more, but he’d seen how she shied away when he’d tried to open the possibility of love between them. Yes, she was right, but she was wrong as well, and he’d make her talk about it. He loved her. Now, this minute, he loved her. What they needed to decide was how long it took before they called what they had together the unequivocal real thing.
Chapter Seven
Donovan had crowned the experience of rough, hard sex with tenderness. Taking her into the shower, he’d soaped and shampooed her, babied her until she felt like the most cherished princess alive. Part of their game, maybe, but something she loved, as she’d loved his treatment of her before. Good, hard, fucking, morphing into…something else.
After two days? And he’d mentioned the L word in the hallway outside her room at the other hotel.
Now they lay in bed together, naked, snuggled against the fierce air-conditioning, which he’d cranked up to give him an excuse, he said, to hold her close and keep her warm. That had melted her, right there.
He went up on one elbow, stared at her, bent and kissed her. She loved his kisses, the way he took time to savor her. He’d dropped kisses all over her in the shower, rinsing her clean and then testing, so he said, that he’d got all the suds off her. He drew back, gazed at her, his eyes drinking her in. “I love you,” he said.
Panic roared through her, bringing every part of her body to life, but although she pushed on his shoulders, kicked to move away from him, he held firm, boxing her in with his forearms. “Wait. Listen.”
She couldn’t do much else. This man was nuts. Romantic, but nuts.
“I’m not talking forever. I�
��m talking here, now, today.”
That made a tiny bit more sense. “Okay.” Frowning, she stared up at him. “Why say it?”
“Because I feel it. Now, this minute. Maybe one day I’ll be ready to make promises, but not today. All I can say is that you’ve made me very happy and I feel closer to you than I have to anyone outside the band for a long, long time. When I say I love you, I don’t mean it’s a lasting thing, I don’t mean I owe you anything, or you owe me. But I’ve learned to express myself in the immediate present.”
A tad less scary then. “So after a weekend, you think…?”
“That we’re good together, that I want to spend more time with you. You never know, after we stay here, and if I can persuade you to come to L.A. for the next leg of the tour, we might find that we’re bored or we can’t stand each other. Maybe I vote Labour and you’d vote Tory if you could, maybe you think all men should be castrated at thirty, I dunno, something like that.”
“How old are you?”
“Thirty-one.” He smiled and dropped another kiss on her mouth. “So you’re too late.”
“Just as well I like you the way you are.” She palmed his semierect cock and felt it harden before she drew her hand away.
“Coward.” Since he accompanied the accusation with another kiss, she didn’t mind too much. “So when I tell you that I love you, it’s because that’s what I’m feeling right now. I don’t make promises I can’t keep, and I won’t tell you something I don’t mean. Nothing heavy. Are you okay with that? I can keep it to myself if it bothers you.”
No pressure. Could it get any better? The underlying message was that she should stick around to find out. Since he’d bought some time for her, the least she could do was join him in L.A. Not that it would mean much sacrifice. Rampant sex in luxury hotels had a certain appeal. “I have to think about tomorrow,” she said cautiously. “I don’t have the luxury of money, so I need to earn a living.”
“I get that. Believe me, I get it.” A shadow crossed his face and his eyes turned blindingly silver, vivid, as if he’d drawn a mask over his inner feelings. He took a deep breath. “In the interests of plain speaking, let’s get this out of the way. I’ve been lucky enough to turn something I love into a career, and I’ve been lucky enough to do it twice.”
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