by Eden Summers
“Do not look at me like that.” She pointed a finger at them in turn, finishing with Mason. “This is your fault.”
The lead singer shrugged. “I take no responsibility for your unprofessional actions.”
She growled, the sound inappropriately sexy.
“I’m… shocked. I thought we were all joking.” Mitch’s eyes were wide. “After all these years…”
“Keep it down.” Ryan made sure there was a warning in his tone. “This isn’t something we want shared outside this group.”
“This isn’t something I wanted to share with anyone,” Leah grated.
Mitch reached for her hand, giving it a quick squeeze before he let it fall. “It’s cool. We won’t tell anyone.”
“Congrats, guys.” Blake gave a friendly punch to Leah’s shoulder. “Took you two long enough.”
“Don’t worry about anyone else.” Sean backtracked to the stage. “We’ll keep this quiet.”
“Our little secret.” Mason waggled his brows.
Then they were left alone, the world returning to normal as quickly as the carnage had erupted. But the damage had taken its toll. Leah was trembling, her invincible tenacity taking one too many hits.
“Don’t panic.”
Wide eyes met his. “What have I done?”
“They were going to find out sooner or later.”
“If this gets out—”
“It won’t.” He pulled her into his arms and hated how she stiffened. “I’ve hugged you before. In public. This isn’t anything out of the ordinary.”
She nodded into his neck, her arms still limp at her sides. “I should go.”
He clung a little tighter. “Can I see you tonight?”
“You’re not going out with Felicity?” She leaned back, wounding him with her optimism.
“Only to make an appearance. I won’t be long.”
“We’ll see.” She moved from his arms. “Message me when you’re done.”
She walked away from him, her chin lifting with every step as she headed toward one of the exits. He shouldn’t leave her alone. Shouldn’t, but he also couldn’t shadow her every second of the day. Facing her anxieties was one of their hurdles. All he could do was hope she didn’t talk herself into hiding from him again.
“Hey, Leah,” Mason’s voice carried over the microphone again, taunting. “You can thank me later.”
Shit. Ryan also had to hope Mason put a cork in it, stat.
She turned, a pretty smile on her face as she raised her middle finger to the sky. “Fuck you, Ron Jeremy.”
Chapter Twelve
Ryan pulled his hotel door shut and ran down the hall. His lesbian fake girlfriends were in his bed, probably up in each other’s ovaries by now, and he couldn’t get away fast enough.
Leah hadn’t returned his last message and it was late. Early, actually. The quick drink at a nearby bar had turned into a two-hour chat session with Felicity and Hannah’s newly amassed fans. They hadn’t been able to get away. Four beers later, he put his foot down and said he was leaving with or without them.
Now he was rushing toward Leah’s room, praying she wasn’t asleep as he sent one last message and then held his ear to the door to listen for movement.
“Damn it.” She must’ve passed out.
He stared down the empty hall, arguing with himself over whether he should leave her be, or break the door down. Eventually, he chose a middle ground and rapped his knuckles gently against the wood.
Her throat cleared from inside, the sound sailing through his chest to nail him with arrhythmia. Every breath he took waiting for the door to open was akin to winning the lottery. He already had the lucky ticket, he already knew his prize. All he had to do was claim it.
The knob turned and she came to stand before him in a red silken nightgown. The straps mere threads, the hem falling to mid-thigh. She was a pin-up. A fantasy from the lazy blink of her eyes to her bare toes against the carpet.
“You were asleep.” He wanted to feel bad, even a little remorseful. He couldn’t muster either.
She rested her head against the door, her smile lazy. “I was watching TV and must have dozed.”
“Anticipation really had you by the throat, didn’t it?”
Her lips quirked and a sparkle lit the tired depths of her irises. “Anticipation of what?”
“Seeing me tonight.” Description wasn’t his strong suit, yet the words were a torrential flow through his head. All the things he wanted to do. All the places he wanted to taste. Not an inch of her would be spared or neglected.
“I see you all the time, Ryan.”
The way she said his name with dreamy seduction made him rally not to slide past her and drag her back into the room. Coy was a thousand times better than standoffish. A million times better than dismissive. It was a blessing to finally be through with the distance they’d successfully built between them.
“And you wore my favorite nightwear.”
Her chuckle was barely audible. “You’ve seen this before?”
“Yeah. I have.” Once, when they’d been overseas touring and he’d made the mistake of walking by the window to her ground room floor. “But this is the first time I haven’t felt guilty at the thought of stripping it off you.”
Her breath hitched. Her sleepy lethargy vanished. He waited to be scolded or to receive the lecture on inappropriate behavior. Instead, she stepped back, pulling the door wide to give him free access to her room.
He couldn’t deny the silent invitation scared the hell out of him. This was complicated. This was Leah. Success could have them sharing a future. Failure could land them in a place far worse than the aftermath of the Australian tour.
Slowly, he ate up the distance between them and walked inside. The atmosphere changed with the click of the lock as she shut them into the silent room bathed in the glow of a small television.
“How was your night?” Her words held a lilt he wasn’t familiar with, a seductive quality that played havoc with the professional and friendly Leah he knew.
He came to rest against the kitchenette, his ass leaning against the counter. “Torturous.”
“Hmm?” She raised a brow, every move enticing, every sound a push against his restraint. “What happened?”
“I spent the whole time thinking about you.” Slight understatement. He’d obsessed over her, reliving their kiss and the reciprocated hope he’d seen in her eyes.
“I’ve had a lot of time to think, too.”
That was never, ever a good sign when it came to this brilliant woman. “And?”
“You’re still married.” She raised her chin, some of her professional nature seeping back in.
“I’ve also scored two lesbian girlfriends.” He reached for her, pulling her into his arms. “What’s your point?”
She shook her head, denying his attempt at humor. “This situation is far from ideal.”
“I know.” He held her close, happy to do nothing but this for hours on end. No matter how much he looked at her, she seemed to grow more beautiful. More addictive. He could stare at her like this, no words, no movement, forever. “We’ll figure it out.”
“Do you mind sharing some of your optimism?”
“No problem. I’ve got enough for the both of us.” He ran a hand over the softness of her cheek and trailed the delicate strands of flower-scented hair behind her ear. Her head moved into his touch, her eyes briefly closing. Her acquiescence squeezed the breath from his lungs and boosted his resilience. Everything inside him felt right. In place. At ease. There was no guilt over a fake relationship, or regret due to a failed marriage. After years chipping away at any hope for his future, it was hard to ignore how monumental this moment was.
“Did you kiss her?” Her eyes opened, an expanse of blue hitting him. “Or them?”
“No.” He swallowed, the restriction in his throat making it hard to speak. “I guess it will have to happen eventually, though.”
Her features didn�
�t change, her lips maintained their sultry appeal, her lashes blinked in careless distraction. But he could feel her reaction, could sense the betrayal and animosity as if it were a physical entity she’d handed to him in a package with ribbon and shiny paper.
“I don’t want anyone else, Leah.” He released an arm from around her waist and cradled her jaw. “I’m here with you.”
“I know.” She tilted her face toward him, her mouth moving closer. “It’s just that you’ve been committed for so long, I thought maybe you’d want to get a little crazy.” She shrugged. “Ya know, like snorting sugar with lesbian lovers and such.” Her straight face transformed into a beaming smile.
“I only want to get crazy with you.”
“Promises, promises.”
Bam. And just like that, with a flirty line and flash of her pearly whites, he was lost. Done. Completely sold on spending eternity with this woman. “Are you hinting for me to move this along?”
“I didn’t want to be rude, but…” She nibbled her lower lip, the nervous reaction blindingly brilliant. Flirty Leah was now his favorite facet of this woman. Wonder Woman was profound; his best friend had been perfect. But this Leah, the one who made his chest throb and his libido surge was fucking phenomenal.
“I want to take this slow,” he admitted. “I want to make up for those two forced kisses.”
“Nothing was forced.”
“But it wasn’t what you deserved.” He trailed his thumb along her jaw, to her chin, and slowly swiped back and forth below her bottom lip. Her mouth was the most tempting taste he’d ever craved. “I want a new first kiss.”
He lifted her, placing her ass on the kitchen counter. “I want a proper kiss.” He pushed between her legs, lifting the hem of her nightgown to the top of her thighs. “I want to take my time.”
Her fingers tangled in his shirt, the slightest tug pulling him closer, dragging him toward the sweet scent of her. He leaned in, his nose hovering an inch from hers, his lungs dragging in her breath. She closed her eyes, her fingers gripping harder, her silent impatience making him burn.
“Kiss me, Ryan.”
“I will.” In time. First, he wanted to savor. He needed to memorize the hitch in her breath and the warmth from her skin. He had to study her. All the intricacies he’d never been allowed.
Her hand loosened in his shirt, her palm pressing firm against him as it made its way over his chest, his neck, and tangled in his hair. She opened her eyes, meeting his gaze. “Now.”
She slanted her head, her approach unhurried. He felt her lips before they were on his, could sense the burn before the connection. The kiss was slow… barely moving… barely breathing. There was nothing hurried or rushed. Slight swipes of mouths, gentle brushes of noses.
She whimpered, the sound of surrender making him feel like he’d won a war.
“I’ve waited forever to hear that noise.” He nipped her lower lip. “To taste it.” He glided his tongue over hers, still slow, still barely moving.
Her legs lifted, her thighs encircling his waist as her hand descended from his hair and retreated to the hem of his shirt. She lifted the material, over his waist, his chest, to his neck. There was a split second of ice-cold separation as she yanked it over his head, then her mouth was back on his, meek and mild, gentle and coaxing.
He pulled her tighter against him as her nails slowly raked his skin, the trail painstaking in its leisure. Her touch inspired agony wherever it dragged, reigniting wounds from time wasted and years of misplaced affections. They should’ve done this long ago. He should’ve been with her from the start.
“We’re not friends anymore, Leah.” He spoke into her mouth, unwilling to pull away.
“I know.” Another kiss. Another stroke of tongues.
“Don’t let me mess this up.” That was his worst fear. Losing her. Losing this.
She froze, her eyes still closed as she placed her forehead against his. “You won’t. It’s the external factors that will make this temporary.”
Temporary? “Hey.” He chastised her with a harsh smack of his lips. “This ain’t temporary. Don’t get cold feet.”
“I’m not, but I don’t want to get carried away either. If I have to make a choice—”
“Don’t go there.” He could deal with her hesitation for now. Anything else was static. “We’re going to do whatever it takes to make this work.” He dropped his hands to her thighs and dragged her into him, her heat against his cock. “Whatever it takes, Leah.”
Chapter Thirteen
She nodded, hoping she could commit to the promise. In her mind, this was temporary. Disneyland for a day. A wish with a time limit. But with each touch, or kiss, or whispered word, she clung to the fantasy of more. She wanted to experience all of him before the fun was over.
She reached for his beard, let the harsh stroke of his whiskers tickle her palm. His mouth brushed hers again, then his teeth, and his tongue. It wasn’t merely a kiss. It was a tease. A game. A show of affection and a promise of forever. It was everything. With his mouth alone, he’d made the beat of her heart thunderous and soaked her panties.
“Help me out of these.” She wiggled back on the counter, giving herself room.
His gaze lowered to the join of her thighs and the small expanse of see-through material covering her mound. “Fuck.”
The curse struck her belly. Hard. He wasn’t prone to profanity like she was. Those words were only spoken at the best of times, or the worst of times. And she was a little giddy to be on the former column.
“Is this going to be weird?” She stared at his hands as they crept toward her underwear. She was waiting for the awkwardness to kick in, for the arousal to be tainted by years of friendship.
“Do you want it to be?” he murmured. “I can do something kinky if you like.”
“Stop it.” She lifted her ass to help him remove her panties. “You know what I mean.”
He met her gaze, his fingers tangled in her waistband, his breath tempting her mouth. “Would darkness help? I can turn off the TV.”
“No. I have to see you. All of you.” She licked her lower lip in a nervous stroke, her breathing labored as he stepped back and pulled her underwear over her knees. “And I want you to know you’re with me. Nobody else.”
“I could never forget. I’ve waited a lifetime to be here with you, carrying the guilt of emotionally cheating on someone I’d fallen out of love with.” He dropped her panties to the floor and convinced her with the intensity in his eyes. “You’re everything to me.”
She wanted to mimic the sentiment. He’d been her everything for far longer, after all. But layering this situation with vulnerability wasn’t a good idea when tonight might be the only night they had. “Show me.”
“It’s all in the plan.” His hands continued back up her thighs, creeping higher until he cupped her ass.
“You have a plan?” She tilted her neck, delighting in the tingled trail of his lips along her jaw, his fragile kisses leading up to her ear. “Impressive.”
“One plan,” he murmured. “Make you mine.”
He pulled her close, causing her to gasp as his pants-covered erection aligned with her pussy. The hardness of him grated against the heat of her, the torturous tease making her mindless. She wanted to be his. Wanted nothing else as those kisses peppered her with affection.
She ached to tell him everything. To pour her heart out and explain why this couldn’t be forever. But the words didn’t come. They were stifled by pleasure. Suppressed under the weight of hope.
“I want you.” Her voice was barely audible. The plea silenced from the blood rushing through her ears.
“Then tell me you’re mine.”
A palm trailed over her hip, his thumb leading the way toward her pussy. She held her breath as he encroached, held his shoulders, too. Then he was there, gliding the pad of his thumb over her clit piercing.
He froze, not moving, not coaxing. She wasn’t sure if it was a torture technique. The
n his head fell to her shoulder, the action almost defeated.
“What is it?” She panted through the torment.
“Nothing.” He pulled back, only to smash his lips against hers, painful and punishing. His tongue took ownership of her mouth, his fingers staking claim on her clit. He slid his fingers lower, through the slickness of her arousal, and deeper.
She whimpered at the penetration, her pussy clamping down on pure, delicious fulfillment. Reality was lost for a moment. She closed her eyes and clung to him, tightening her grip with each thrust and swirl.
A hand glided through her hair, gentle at first, then tight, squeezing, demanding her attention. She blinked up at ferocity and ownership. There was nothing but him. He took her over. All her thoughts were his. All her breath. All her ecstasy.
He watched her with savage determination, not stopping the onslaught of his fingers or the manipulative tug of her hair. He was different like this, a stark contrast from the man she knew. There was nothing gentle in his features. No sweetness. No chivalry. The man before her was confident in his finesse. Calculated with his control.
She released a hand from around his neck to stabilize herself on the counter and began grinding into his strokes. She held his focus, matching his tenacity with her own. His fortitude built, those eyes becoming more adamant on her pleasure while her strength fractured under the skillful force of his fingers.
She kissed him, gasping into the connection. The grip on her ass shifted, nudging between her cheeks, gliding toward her pussy from behind. Everything inside her clenched. Bliss hovered.
“Fuck.” She pulled back to suck in air.
“Soon.”
He continued to work her into a frenzy, his kisses landing on her cheek, her shoulder, the top of her breast. Every time a sound escaped her mouth, he became attuned to the cause, pinpointing the pleasure-filled action and doing it again and again.
He stroked the wet flesh between her pussy and ass, then penetrated her core. He kissed her into oblivion. There was no respite. No pause to gain control. His teeth scraped her nipple. His beard marked her skin. His thumb rubbed her clit. Over and over. Her need building higher and higher.
