NicenEasy

by Lynne Connolly

  A question he was increasingly asking himself. “I draw and write in between. When you’re on tour, there’s a lot of downtime. I wrote the books like that.”

  “Do you intend to continue doing that, now the first book is so successful?”

  He glanced at Chick, who was frantically inputting data on his smart phone. Beverley was already on it and laid her phone in front of him. Shit, he’d hit the biggest bestseller list. He stared at the screen, his mind gone blank. Frantically, he searched for something to say, and then words appeared on the screen. Chick had texted some in for him. Thank Christ.

  “I don’t have any plans to change what I do.” Oh, very good. He could extemporize on that. “After all, Nightstar is number one worldwide.” He glanced around the room and found a pair of blue eyes. He spoke to them and nobody else. “Sometimes life is a rehearsal, when you have to try something out and see if it works for you. Then you have a decision to make, when it becomes real. I’ve made a few decisions recently, one of them just now.”

  To the hubbub of “What?” he wouldn’t reply, just smiled, folded his arms and shrugged.

  He felt the curiosity of the band, but nobody would ask him until they were alone. One thing had become crystal clear to him. He wanted Allie and he didn’t want to wait. He needed her with him. He needed to spend more time with Allie, to give them a chance, and a tour was one of the worst places to do that. The constant traveling, the tension of each concert, the public attention, none of it boded well for a relationship. He wanted time and space so he could do normal things like go out to dinner and find a place to live together. Wake up in the same bed with nobody else in the next room.

  It sounded great. Better than great.

  Once the media realized it was getting no more out of him, it moved on to Riku and his outrageous clothes, a perennial source of fascination. Zazz rivaled him when the mood took him, but tonight he was all ripped T-shirt and jeans, tight fitting and low slung, but just jeans. Riku’s animal print, extravagantly fringed jacket and matching pants had drawn the eye tonight, and they were new, bought, or so he told them, from the bangin’ vintage store he’d taken Allie to. They wouldn’t be able to move tomorrow for customers. That ensured Riku a warm welcome when he decided to drop back that way.

  An interminable five minutes later, Chick announced the press conference closed. They could leave. Donovan wouldn’t tell Allie his decision now. Yes, he would. Tomorrow they were leaving for L.A. and he wanted to fix things immediately, now he’d made his decision.

  Chapter Ten

  Allie had met those eyes, gazed into them, told him in every way she could that she loved him. One thing had become abundantly clear to her tonight—the band needed Donovan, the public needed Donovan to be in the band, and she couldn’t take him away from that, not for Casterbridge and not for Elliott. Their original arrangement of breaking up in L.A. had to stand. She couldn’t let him walk away from something that was such an intrinsic part of him, even if he offered. He looked so right and so happy.

  When Chick had shown him the bestseller list, something she’d planned to make him aware of later, she’d seen his eyes gleam and he’d grinned. If he hadn’t been in public, he’d have punched the air, she was sure. A childhood dream fulfilled. Always satisfying, but sometimes ambitions and game plans changed from childhood to adulthood.

  Unable to take any more, she left the room and stood outside. A few people lingered there, hangers-on, staff going about their duties. A few stared at her, then at her wrist where her bands were on display, then ignored her.

  Where to go?

  Back to the hotel. She asked for guidance to take her to a taxicab stand before she realized she couldn’t walk out on him. He’d just come after her. So she asked for his dressing room, flashed her armbands and got someone to take her there.

  He arrived ten minutes after, striding in to take her in his arms and deliver a resounding kiss. As always, the world went away. He was sweaty, he hadn’t changed yet, but she reveled in his masculine odor and taste, wanting to bathe in him. When his lips left hers, she murmured, “Make me dirty too.”

  His laugh warmed her heart. “I’ve got a better idea,” he said before sweeping her into the shower.

  Their clothes disappeared in short order. The shower was a much smaller, less adequate affair than the one in the hotel, but it had a narrow ledge, just enough for her to balance on, necessary because of their difference in height. She opened her legs wide so he could step between them and held on to his shoulders for balance. Water streamed down on them. He nudged her clit with his erect cock and they both moaned.

  “You’re so beautiful,” he said, right against her mouth. “I love the way you trim your hair. You’re getting stubble there. Will you let me do it?”

  The thought made her even wetter, but in the next moment she knew this could be their last time together if her plan worked. But the thought of him down there with a razor, carefully stroking away—she lifted her hand, cupped his cheek and felt the corresponding stubble there. “I like this. It’s a great look and it feels so good.”

  “I’ll keep it for you.” He kissed her again, lusciously, moving his cock against her, stimulating her to even more arousal until she gave a small scream into his mouth.

  He broke the moment, drew back with a startled oath. “Shit, protection. How could you let me…?”

  She reached for him, cupped his cheek again and forced him to look at her. “I’m clean and I’m on the Pill.”

  “No, you can’t.” He stared at her, amazement widening his gray eyes. “Oh sweetheart, are you sure?”

  “Positive.” If she had nothing else, she’d have this memory. She wanted quite desperately to feel him inside her with nothing between them. She wanted him to know her as intimately as a man can ever know a woman.

  With a moan of surrender, he drove forward and didn’t stop. She felt that familiar twinge as he stretched her with his entry, then he was fully embedded inside her. He moved, twisted and she gasped and bit her lip. Immediately he was there, licking and stroking the nip away before delivering one of his own and then soothing it away with his tongue. He kissed her, tasted her and she thrust her tongue into his mouth, trying desperately to memorize everything about him, all he was. He drove her high with his murmurs and wicked suggestions, but this straight, almost wordless fucking was, if anything, better. Just the two of them giving in to the passion that devoured them both.

  He worked her hard, driving into her with concentrated, pure intent. When he finished their kiss, he drew back, watched her without a suspicion of a smile. Just concentration and love, something she’d seen before, but this time it seemed different. As if he wanted to imprint his body and his soul on her.

  In response, she gave him everything. Didn’t hide her feelings or her reactions. Opened her body to him and her heart, did he but know it. At that moment, everything she owned belonged to him.

  For him, this might just be post-concert relief, but for her, it meant everything.

  She forced herself into the now, into what was happening this second. One thing Donovan had taught her, the thing she’d cherish for the rest of her life was to do that. She lifted her eyes to his, gazed into them deeply, and said, “I love you.”

  She saw the moment he came. A brief dilation, his pupils widening, then his cock throbbed and he watched her as he came, gave her all he was. The thought, the feel of his surrender forced hers, and she collapsed helplessly into his arms, giving herself completely to him.

  He withdrew carefully and washed them both briskly, not wasting time as the water was definitely cooling. He reached over her and turned off the water.

  “I made a decision tonight,” he murmured. Grabbing a towel, he wrapped it around her and then found one for himself.

  “I saw the conference, don’t forget. You were really secretive.”

  He swiped the towel over his wet body and then reached for her, patting her dry gently, tenderly, treating her as if she w
ere some precious gift. “I wanted to tell you first. Then the band. I’m leaving, I’ve decided to give the writing a try. Full-time.” He lifted her chin, gazed into her eyes. “I’ll come back to New York with you at the end of next week and find somewhere to live. I’m hoping a New York resident will let me sleep at her place until then.” She didn’t respond to his smile. “I love writing, it was always my dream to make my living that way. We won’t have to spend time apart.”

  “V and Matt spend time apart when their jobs need it,” she pointed out, hoping against hope that she could dissuade him from this disastrous plan. If he went to New York, she’d go to him. How could she help herself? But she knew he would regret it one day. He’d miss the band and the music, and then he might blame her. She certainly would.

  “It works for them, but it wouldn’t work for us. We have something too special to throw away. You know that, don’t you?”

  Something shattered inside her but she fought to hide her reaction. “We haven’t had long enough to know.”

  “I don’t care how long it’s been. I want you and I can’t see that ending anytime soon. You want me. We need time and space to work it out. Time of our own.”

  “I can wait until after the tour.” That had been her outside bet, but she knew it would be hopeless. Faced with all the temptation available to a rock star on a world tour, what chance did a week’s passionate affair stand? And how fair would it be to expect him to stay faithful to her?

  “I can’t. I want you now and I can’t risk losing you. I’ll tell the band tomorrow.” She opened her mouth to speak but he stopped her with a kiss. “I’ve thought this over. When I saw you tonight, I knew I couldn’t let you go next week. And I can’t ask you to give up your life for mine, even if you would and I’m not sure about that. I won’t put it to the test. I have my writing and contracts for more books. I don’t think we’ll starve. It’s something I love.”

  “You love the band.”

  “I’ll visit. It’s not as if I’m the most important member. There are tons of great bass players just waiting for a chance to shine. I have a couple of names I can give the guys. I’m sure they’ll find someone. Chick has a few session musicians on call in case one of us gets ill or even dead on the tour, so he can find someone to stand in for me while they find a more permanent member.” He tugged her close, banded his arms around her. “It’s a life that appeals to me, and one we can share.”

  The thought, unwanted but the truth, went through her. But not his first choice.

  *

  “Morning, guys.”

  His mood sucked, but theirs was buoyed by the fantastic reception last night. Even Zazz was smiling. “It just gets better. With every concert, we’re getting better too. Eventually we’ll reach a kind of blend, a symbiosis, whatever you want to call it, and we’ll just know what to do next.”

  Zazz’s laughter, rarely heard, rang around the room, but it sank Donovan’s state of mind even lower. Not for the first time, he thought How can I give this up? only to remind himself of the woman he wanted to get to know a lot better and the books he loved to write. They would do it for him. Between them, they’d replace the band.

  He ignored the hollow feeling at the base of his stomach. Just late nights and too much junk food, that was all.

  Taking his place on a spare piece of sofa seemed invidious, considering what he was about to tell them, but he’d wait until Chick came in. That didn’t take long. Chick liked to do a post-concert debrief but he usually kept it mercifully short. Donovan didn’t listen as avidly as usual, but the words, “Great”, “Success” and “Keep it up”, would normally have buoyed him as much as it did the others. Although they tried desperately hard for excellence, they weren’t one of those bands who pretended that public opinion didn’t matter.

  “What’s wrong, Donovan?” V asked abruptly. It gave him the perfect lead-in.

  “I’ve decided to leave,” he said. Plain and simple, the only way he could tell them. Silence fell and they all stared at him. Every gaze trained on him. Even though he knew these people well, worked with them, the combined concentration made him quail, as if he were in the head teacher’s study after misbehaving. “I love Allie, and I want to see if what we have is really lasting. I can’t do that long-distance.” He cast V an apologetic look, because she and Matt were doing just that. She shrugged in an it-doesn’t-matter way. “And I have this amazing offer to write more books. The money they’re paying me is silly, but it means they’ll give me promotion, and I can use the name I’ve made here. Which, I should add, I fully intend to do. I need to settle down somewhere, to make a life for myself.”

  He took a deep breath. Nobody spoke but he caught Hunter’s blue gaze. Absolute shock. “Allie had nothing to do with my decision, that is, she didn’t persuade me. She was as shocked as you guys when I told her last night. So don’t go blaming her. I’ll stay until the last L.A. gig, then I’ll fly to New York, but I won’t be going on to Barcelona with you guys.”

  “She got to him,” Jace said. His lips flattened in distaste. “I knew she would. Listen, Donovan, you hardly know her, man. What if you’re wrong?”

  “What if you and Beverley aren’t meant to be?” he countered.

  Jace’s lips curved in the faintest suggestion of a smile. “We are. But Beverley has a job. She’d still work with us.”

  “Probably not as closely,” Chick said. He leaned over the sofa where Donovan sat next to Riku, who put in his own opinion now.

  “No woman’s worth that. We’re going toward something amazing, and you can end it just like that?” His finger snap echoed around the large room. “Do you know what you’re doing? Breaking up something we’ll never have again. Not this level. Write, sure, we’re really happy for you. You’ve always doodled, always scribbled stories, and we were pleased as fuck when you got the writing gig. But I never imagined you’d take this step.”

  “Where’s Allie?” demanded Zazz. He looked as if he were containing his temper. Next he’d go to his room and throw things. Since he didn’t touch drugs and hardly drank, women and violence against inanimate objects were his main outlets.

  “I left her asleep. It’s not her decision and it’s not her band,” Donovan told him. “The decision is mine, and I’m leaving. Consider this my resignation.”

  Allie didn’t sleep well without him. The fact that she’d slept by herself for a long time while she concentrated on her career meant nothing now she’d met Donovan. She sat up in bed and reached for the hotel robe she’d used last night. Breakfast, coffee, then she’d talk with him more about his decision to leave the band.

  But when she went to the coffeemaker, she found they hadn’t been to replenish supplies yet. Still, they always had a pot of coffee going in the main room, and she needed her fix now. Taking one of the gold-rimmed mugs supplied to this area of the hotel, she wandered out of their suite and up the hallway toward the main room.

  “Beverley has a job,” she heard and stopped. Long enough to hear the next remarks and to realize that she was too late. Donovan was resigning.

  Despair seized her as she desperately considered her options. If she went in now and said she didn’t want this, then Donovan would stick with her. It would be him and her against the band, and above all things, she didn’t want him to burn his bridges completely. If he left, she might be able to persuade him to go back, but not if he quarreled with the band so badly they’d never take him. She’d be the intruder and they’d hate her for it. If they blamed her and Donovan stayed in the band, she’d force herself to accept it. But having him give all that up for her? No fucking way.

  She’d hoped for that last, precious week, but she had to do this now. If this ploy didn’t work, she’d have to tell him to go, but she doubted that would be effective. Donovan Harvey set great store by honesty, so if she demonstrated to him that she was being less than honest, that might do the trick. Especially when he was feeling sore from his discussion with the band.

  When h
e returned, she took care to be in the bedroom, packing. He’d told her that the staff would do that, but she wanted to do it for herself, she said. She sensed his arrival rather than heard it.

  She switched her phone to speaker and put through the call she needed to make. If she were packing, speakerphone would seem practical. She just hoped Donovan wouldn’t realize that a sensitive call like the one she was about to make wouldn’t usually go on speaker. “Sorry to call you at the weekend, Nancy. No hard feelings about Carl.”

  “No problem.” Nancy sounded smug. “Duane told me he wants you to stay, pending the reorganization. Is it about that?”

  Allie badly wanted to tell Nancy to fuck herself but instead she forced a friendly tone. “I’m not sure I can get Donovan so quickly. I might have to stay here a while. He’s going to be harder to hook than we thought. So I thought I’d ask your advice. After all, you put me on to him in the first place.”

  Nancy thought she was agreeing to Duane’s request. “Sure, honey. You can do it. It’s easy. Flatter him, listen to him, take notes. Hide them in the john if you have to. You have a couple of weeks’ vacation and I’m sure you can do it by then.” She laughed. “You’ve been discreet with the press. Maybe more exposure will help. In any case, I have something else for you to think about.”

  Allie felt rather than heard Donovan come to the bedroom door to listen. Her heart breaking, she continued. “What’s that?”

  “Murder City Ravens is a really secretive band. They don’t allow photographs other than carefully controlled ones. A few have crept online, one of Jace with Beverley Christmas—what kind of fucking name is that, anyway? A supply of them would be dynamite. And a kiss-and-tell memoir? Let’s put it this way, honey. You’d be in solid at Casterbridge. Everybody’s doing it. You won’t be breaking any rules.”

  Allie would just bet. So Nancy wanted Allie to sneak around, make up shit for a sleazy book, reveal what she and Donovan got up to in the bedroom? “Does it have to be gospel?”