He raised his eyebrows. “Seriously?” Then she felt stupid. She thought he was going to tell all his band members and make fun of her. Instead, he dropped his voice and said, “Then you have to sit by the window.” She shook her head furiously back and forth, her lips pursed closed. “Trust me. Once you get over the fear, you’ll regret not seeing earth from above. It’s fucking amazing. You have to, Emily.”
She looked in his eyes. Yes, she did trust him. “Okay. But don’t say anything.”
He grinned. “Not a word.” As they walked down the aisle to their seats, he said, “Make sure you keep your phone handy in case you want to take pictures.” She nodded. Once they got to their seats, he lifted his luggage to fit in the compartment over the seat. She noticed his bicep peeking out from under his t-shirt sleeve and made sure to avert her gaze. Then he said, “Here, give me yours.” He slid it in next to his and then moved out of the way so she could move to what was going to be her seat next to the window. He got out of the way so Brian could put his luggage next to theirs and then both men sat with Clay in the middle.
The two men were discussing getting together soon to start working on their next project. Clay was describing the song he’d written the week before, and Emily tried to relax. Clay was animated in that tight space, scatting out the sounds of his song. Emily recognized it, even without the actual guitar. But when they started talking about what kind of bassline Brian should play, she was lost. She looked out the window and the wing was right there. She didn’t imagine she’d get to see much with it in the way.
Her mouth grew dry, especially once the flight attendant started talking about emergency exits, life rafts, and oxygen masks. She tried to keep her breathing steady, but she could feel her heart beating against her chest. She buckled the seatbelt as instructed. God, she wanted to close that window cover but was told she had to leave it open.
She placed her hands in her lap and held them together. She could do this. Millions of people had flown before, and she knew that statistically flying was safer than driving. She knew all of the reasons why it would be okay, but it didn’t change the fact that she was still nervous. The plane started taxiing over to where they would take off, and Emily hoped that feeling the engines would help her get used to them; instead, she just felt worse.
Their plane was next to go, it seemed, but she saw other planes taking off. She had to quit looking, so she just bent her head and closed her eyes.
As the plane got into position, she took another deep breath, trying to calm herself. The plane started speeding down the runway, and she gulped down more air, feeling faint. Then she heard Clay’s voice. “Hey, it’s okay.” He took her hand in his and that’s when, in spite of the plane tilting up at an angle and leaving the ground, she felt calm.
Chapter Nine
NOT A BAD sign, really. Emily not only let Clay take her hand, but she squeezed it back. That made Clay wonder how important this supposed fiancé really was to her. Well, not just her holding his hand when she was scared out of her mind. He was starting to question the guy, seriously question him. And Jet? Well, he had some very bad ideas…
After takeoff, she opened her eyes and looked out the window, then closed them again. Brian was already talking to Devil across the aisle, asking why they’d only practiced once before the concert, so Clay knew it was okay to not engage his friend in conversation for the moment. “You okay?”
She turned her head to him and unsqueezed her eyes. “Yeah, until I start thinking about how there is nothing fucking underneath us!”
He smiled. She still hadn’t let go. “I think that’s the first time I’ve ever heard you drop an F-bomb.”
“Oh.” She covered her mouth with her other hand. “Sorry.”
“Why are you sorry? I thought it was funny.” She really was scared out of her mind. “Would something to drink help?”
“What—like alcohol?”
“Yeah.”
She nodded. He reached up and pushed the button that would bring one of the flight attendants over when she had time. After a bit, one of the ladies came over and asked what she could get him. He leaned forward and pulled out his wallet and had to at last let go of Emily’s hand. He pulled out his credit card and handed it to the attendant. “How about two sangrias? Wait, Brian, you want one?”
“No, I’m good for now, man.”
Emily said, “A water too, if that’s okay.”
“Yeah. Two waters too.”
The attendant smiled and swiped his card and then handed it back to him with a receipt. Clay hoped a small drink would help Emily to enjoy the flight. He had always loved flying and wanted her too as well. She wasn’t talking, another sign that she was scared, but he figured he’d leave her be. If she wanted to talk, she knew he was there.
When the attendant brought the drinks, Emily lowered her tray and poured the bottle of water in the cup of ice. But then she pulled the straw out of the pouch of sangria and sucked it down quickly. As soon as the pouch was flattened, she took a drink of water. Clay laughed and then sipped some sangria through his straw. “You want another one?”
She smiled at him. “Not sure yet.” She was quiet and looked out the window. She seemed a little calmer, and maybe it was just because she knew she had a little alcohol in her system. He just watched her looking out the window and after a bit she took her phone out of her purse and started taking pictures of the mountains underneath them.
“Cool, huh?”
“Yeah.” She turned to look at him. “Thanks for talking me into sitting by the window.”
He nodded. “I knew you’d like it.”
“It’s amazing.” Her voice sounded emotional. “So cool…that we—us humans—we did this.”
He rested his head back. He could relax now, knowing she was okay. He resisted the urge to grab her hand again. He could smell her hair from where he sat. He wasn’t sure what the scent of her shampoo was, but it smelled fresh and sweet. He could see clouds through the window past her head, but he couldn’t take his eyes off her. She turned around to say something—she was excited and just a little buzzed, he thought—but then she saw him staring at her and she just smiled. There was something unspoken there—he wasn’t sure what—but he could have stayed there all day saying nothing and been happy.
* * *
Holy shit! Emily was excited. After they’d gotten off the plane, they’d all walked together through LAX to the cab area. Emily was surprised that it didn’t feel any hotter and hardly any more humid than Denver when they’d left.
Brian rode in the same cab they did, and she saw that the group took three cabs altogether. This time Emily sat between the two. Brian was a nice enough guy with shorter hair than Clay, ending about his shoulders, but he had more tattoos than Clay. His tattoos went up his neck, down his hands, and onto his fingers. The only piercings he could see that Emily caught were the ones in his ears. He wasn’t as animated as Clay, either. He had a quick smile and laughed a lot, but he was quieter. They were telling Emily about some of their previous shows in California. At one point, Brian said, “I’d considered moving out here, but then Colorado made weed legal, and I’ll be a resident for life.”
After about half an hour, they arrived at their hotel, and once again, Emily could barely catch her breath. It was right on the ocean, and she could see the water from their second-story room. She’d freaked out at first when she discovered she and Clay were sharing a room, but then she found out it was a large suite—one room had a king-size bed and the other room had two queens. Emily ran to the window when they got inside and she looked out at the water. “God, it’s beautiful. You should see it.”
“Hold your horses. I’ve seen it before. I just wanna check out our digs.” After a minute, he asked, “Do you want the king or the queens?”
“I don’t care. I don’t need a big bed or even two beds. Really doesn’t matter to me.” In fact, she thought it was kind of wasteful that she didn’t use the room with the king and two of th
e guys share the room with two beds. But what did she know? This was her first trip with the band. For all she knew, they’d each have plenty of company, all except for Sam, the one who’d brought his girlfriend.
“Then I’ll take the king.” He rolled his luggage into that bedroom, and she heard him moving around in there. She was thrilled.
After a while, all of them went out to eat. As usual, when dining at “regular” restaurants, she had to thoroughly examine the menu and wound up eating a salad with vinaigrette. Clay smiled at her but didn’t say a word. She saw the only other woman there rolling her eyes, but she wasn’t going to worry about it. She couldn’t make everyone happy, and she certainly wasn’t there to impress anyone.
When they went back to the hotel, for some reason, everyone wound up in Clay and Emily’s suite, and everyone was drinking. Emily was feeling a little tired, and she remembered reading somewhere that it could be jet lag. She knew that meant she should make sure to drink plenty of water too, so she waved off the offers of alcohol. An hour later, early evening, everyone wanted to hang out on the beach. She did too but she checked her email on her phone. She actually had an email from Bryce, and he said he wanted to Skype with her if she was around.
So when everyone began filtering out of the room, she told Clay, “I’ll join you guys later. I’m gonna Skype with Bryce.”
Clay smiled at her. “Okay. Text me if you can’t find us.”
She nodded. “Will do.” As soon as everyone left, she got another glass of ice water and went in her room to fire up her laptop. She sat on her bed and logged into Skype. She saw it said he was online, and so she made a video call to him.
When he answered, the video was a little blurry, but it was nice to see his face. “Bryce! I’ve missed you so much.”
“I’ve missed you too.” The sound quality wasn’t the best—his voice sounded like she was under water, but it was still wonderful to hear him.
“Are you having fun?”
“Unbelievable. Shit. I don’t even know where we are anymore. We’re going to Italy tomorrow. I could spend years here, Em. There’s so much history to take in.”
Years? Maybe he wasn’t missing her as much as she was him. “So what’s been your favorite place so far?”
“I don’t know. Spain and England were kind of old hat for me, like coming home, I guess. There were a couple places in France I’d never been before, so that was cool.” The video kept cutting out, so Emily was having to piece together what he was saying. She managed but it was difficult. “What about you, though? How’s the job going? Does it suck as much as it sounds?”
“It doesn’t suck at all. I’m traveling too. Right now, we’re in California—Long Beach, I think.”
“Hey, Em, this connection sucks. Much as I love seeing your beautiful face, I’m gonna switch to audio only. That okay?”
“Yeah, sure.” She did the same. “How’s that?”
“Better on this end. You?”
Still not perfect, but “Yeah.”
“So you were telling me about your job.”
She proceeded to tell him about the things she’d done so far. She didn’t tell Bryce how horrified she’d been at first. She’d only been working for Clay a little over two weeks and yet she already felt loyal to him. She felt protective of him—of his image in particular—so she didn’t want to say anything that could be damaging. Instead, she focused on the work she’d been doing and how much she was enjoying it thus far.
She then asked Bryce to expand on his European adventures, and he said, “I’m taking plenty of pictures. I’ll show them all to you when I get back. It’s kinda late here.”
Emily looked at the time on her laptop—it was almost five thirty. “What time is it?”
“It’s after one.”
“Oh, crap. You’re probably ready for bed.”
“Getting there.” His voice was lower when he said, “What are you wearing?”
“What?”
“What are you wearing?”
A small smile crossed her face, and she wanted to ask him if he’d been paying any attention to her when the video had been on. But she missed him and wanted to indulge him. “A white tank top with tiny straps and jean shorts.”
“Oh…are your bra straps peeking out from under the tank top?”
She smiled wider. “Yeah.”
“What color bra?”
“Light pink.”
“Damn. The shorts…they cut offs?”
“No.”
“Super short—where your ass almost peeks out?”
“I dunno.”
“They the ones you wore last summer?”
“Yeah.”
“Damn. I think I’m getting hard.”
She giggled. “I can’t take care of you till you get home, honey.”
He made a growling sound. “Touch yourself.”
Her voice was quieter than she’d wanted. “What?”
“Touch yourself—like if I was touching you.”
Oh. Wow. She’d never done phone sex before. That was what he was asking her to do, right? “You mean, like, my boobs?”
She heard him breathe out a chuckle. “Among other things.”
Her thought process didn’t take long, and she decided to go through with it. “One sec.” She got up off the bed and closed the door, then sat back on the bed, but she turned her laptop around. It was one thing to do what she was about to do, but she knew if she felt self-conscious, it wouldn’t work. Just by turning the laptop forty-five degrees so it faced the window, she relaxed. “Okay. I’m ready.”
“So…I want you to imagine we’re together, all right, and I’m kissing your neck. But my hands slide up your shirt.” She lay back on the bed, her head on the overly fluffy pillow, and she slid her hand up her tank resting it on her belly just below her bra. “I want to touch you, those beautiful breasts.”
He talked her through it, and she tried to imagine it was his hands on her breasts, but her mind kept slipping elsewhere. By the time her hands were unbuttoning her shorts at his command, her mind was focused on Clay’s image. She couldn’t stop it, but she imagined that it was him getting into her panties, and as her fingers touched her slick clit, she couldn’t help imagining Clay’s head—or, more specifically, his tongue—between her legs bringing her pleasure. She started to ask if Bryce was going fast or slow, but by then she was buried in a dark world of fantasy. She could still hear his voice, but it wasn’t Bryce who was getting her off.
Chapter Ten
“AW, FUCK ME.” Clay was patting the pockets on his ass futilely.
“What, man?” Brian asked.
“I musta left my phone back in the room.”
“So? Don’t be a bitch. You don’t need the fuckin’ phone.”
“Yeah, I do. I told Emily to text me if she couldn’t find us.”
Brian rolled his eyes. “It’s still light out. She’s a big girl.”
“She’s not familiar with California. And I promised, douche. Be right back.”
He heard Brian say, “Pussy.” Yeah, and now he owed him one. The two of them often engaged in that type of name calling, but it was harmless. In fact, he expected nothing less from the man.
It was fewer than five minutes that he was back in the hotel and sliding the card in the door to open the room. He was hoping his phone was in the hotel; otherwise, he’d lost it. Again. He’d managed to hang onto this phone for almost a year, so he hoped he’d just left it in the room. Otherwise, he’d broken his streak.
Emily wasn’t inside, so he wondered if he’d crossed paths with her. God, he’d feel like an asshole if she got lost, and he hadn’t been available by phone as promised. He went in his room and checked the dresser and nightstands. Nope. He’d have to instead look in the kitchen and living room area and hope it was in one of those rooms.
As he walked out in the living room, he realized he could hear Emily’s voice. She was in her room and the door was closed. He felt a little relief that he
hadn’t lost her. He started walking over to the door and was going to tell her he’d popped in to find his phone…until he could hear more. His gait slowed as he got closer, and then he realized what he was hearing was her on the verge of orgasm. Holy fuck. He took a deep breath and almost cursed when he realized he’d grown hard in seconds. God, what an asshole he was. She was having sex with her boyfriend over the internet (would they call that cybersex? he wondered) and he was listening in. But as much as he wanted to, he couldn’t back away. Her cries were intoxicating, and he closed his eyes, wadding up his t-shirt into his fist to keep himself from grabbing his cock and jerking off right there. As much as he’d thought he wanted this woman before, hearing her orgasm was going to fucking kill him.
She finished and Clay took a deep breath. He knew his knuckles had to be white, but he didn’t look at the fist gripping his shirt when he opened his eyes. He looked instead at the hand pressing against the wall, almost keeping him from falling. That hand wanted to open the door to Emily’s room, but it wasn’t going to. Clay was a gentleman.
That was part of the problem too. Clay wasn’t fully there; instead, the animal side of the man had come out, and he was more Jet than Clay, and Jet wouldn’t care if Emily thought he was a pig. Still, he swallowed and made his breathing steady. He had to find his phone and get out of there. Emily wouldn’t appreciate feeling like he’d been listening in on her. If he could get his ass out of there and do it quietly, she wouldn’t ever have to know.
He tried thinking of other things, willing his cock down, and then he turned, looking around the living room for his phone. He tried to focus so he could leave the suite looking as normal as possible.
He would have to look in the kitchen. He walked there, glad the carpet was absorbing the sound of his steps, but the kitchen didn’t have carpet. It didn’t matter, though, because he saw the phone on the table and was able to reach it before he had to walk through the entire space. He took another breath, determined to leave.
Feverish (Bullet #3) Page 8
