by Cherrie Lynn
She stuttered for a moment, apparently not expecting him to question her, then indicated the girl standing next to her in line. “She said you did. She said for most of the tour there’s been a woman on your bus.” Now it was the other one’s turn to stammer.
These people missed nothing. “She’s only been around to help look after my boys,” he said as nonchalantly as he could, failing in his efforts to keep from remembering how she had tasted last night, like sin and innocence. Like strawberries. He had that waiting for him, and he wanted to get back to her as soon as possible. “You enjoy the show.”
He doled out autographs and handshakes and hugs, so many of the fans telling him how much his lyrics helped them in some way, which always humbled him and made him feel unworthy. All he did was jot his feelings on a sheet of paper and yell them at a microphone. That people actually wanted to hear it was no small miracle to him. But human beings needed to feel they weren’t alone, and it amazed him to find so many others out there who’d been through the same crap he had. Music was the universal unifier. He wouldn’t trade it for the world, even when some of the fans became too intrusive on his personal life.
Reaching the end of the line at last, he recapped his Sharpie and passed it back to his assistant, fully aware of the cell phone cameras snapping. He bumped fists with Russell as he passed by him. Unfortunately, Talia had left the tour a few days ago for a vacation with their kids. She and Iris had made fast friends, and maybe she could have kept her company if Iris hadn’t minded her knowing she was here. There wasn’t anyone else he trusted enough.
When he made it back to the bus, he found Iris asleep in his bed, curled on her side, dark hair fanned behind her and her delicate fingers curled beneath her chin. She’d been deprived of her opportunity to grab a nap on the plane, so he was reluctant to wake her though he was anxious to have some time with her.
As quietly as he could, he crawled onto the bed and eased himself down behind her. Her face turned toward him, and in profile he saw her smile sleepily. As he breathed in the clean lilac scent of her hair, it soothed and settled something inside him, just as it had last night. She’d fallen asleep first then, too, and he’d watched her for longer than he cared to admit to himself.
“So tired,” she said on a soft sigh.
“I know. It’s been a long day.” And it wasn’t over yet, at least not for him. “Are you hungry?”
“Just sleepy.”
“Get some sleep, then.”
“I wanted to spend time with you.”
He chuckled at how she sounded as if she was on the verge of drifting off again even as she said it. “I’m right here.”
Content to let her be, Eli closed his eyes and let the slow rhythm of her breathing soothe him until his own weariness began to pull at his limbs. And that’s how he knew that he was getting fucking old, because he had a beautiful woman snoozing next to him and he wasn’t trying to get in her pants. But he wanted any connection he forged with her to go beyond sexual. He’d jumped in dick-first too often in the past. This was nice, and he’d missed simply holding someone in his arms as she slept.
Of course, if she turned over and offered herself to him, he’d go down smiling. Her past was far more fucked up than anything he’d ever encountered before, and he was content to follow her lead on this.
He hurt me. Her admission last night had come out wavering, so soft he almost hadn’t heard it over the gentle lapping of the water. Maybe it wasn’t his place, but it had made him want to twist the bastard’s fucking head off.
His own thoughts about her hadn’t exactly been pure, but fuck, anyone who could treat her body so carelessly hadn’t deserved the privilege of touching it.
He wasn’t sure he deserved it, either. So much was wrong here, but for some reason being with her felt nothing but right.
Maybe he wasn’t quite content enough with leaving her be. Her hair was heavy silk as he lifted it gently away from her neck, leaning close to where her scent was so concentrated. So many little things about her enticed him, things he’d never noticed about other women. The drowsy cadence of her breathing. The wispy, curling baby hairs at her nape. The tiny pulsing spot under her skin where her caring heart beat life through her veins. Unable to stop himself, he shifted closer to kiss her there, only a bare brushing of his lips, but he heard her breath catch before a sigh escaped her.
“You’re so fucking sweet,” he whispered in her ear, absorbing the shiver that worked through her body. And then she was turning within the circle of his arms, pressing closer to him, her head nestling under his chin. He held her to him fiercely, sliding his fingers through her hair and closing his fist around the silken strands, a sudden protective urge swamping him.
He considered himself strong, but Heidi had damn near ripped him apart. Him, someone she had professed to love at one time, someone with whom she shared her children.
What would she do to Iris?
He should stay away, but he couldn’t. He hadn’t been able to last night, and when her face tilted up now, her lips seeking his, there wasn’t a damn force in heaven or hell that could have stopped him from giving her what she wanted. She had the softest mouth he’d ever kissed, her timid little tongue meeting his and flickering away, driving him fucking crazy. Almost before he realized it, he was above her, devouring her sweetness like a starving man. So much for leaving her be.
She trembled beneath him, but she held him close, all her movements and responses every bit as feverish as his own. “Eli?” she murmured against his lips, pushing her hand through his hair to lift him so he could gaze into her bright blue eyes. So bright, but haunted. How had he missed that before?
“Yes?”
“Will you do what you did to me last night?”
Oh, he wanted to torture her, to make her describe in detail what she wanted in that angelic voice of hers, but he didn’t have the heart. Her cheeks were already a blaze of red, so he had mercy on her. “I will. I’ll do it for a very long time.”
And he did.
Twenty-Nine
Iris curled up under the covers to watch the live stream of the set, contemplating the cruelties of life. When she hadn’t much cared for watching the concerts, she had a front-row seat to every one of them. Now that she wanted to witness every move Elijah made like a lovesick teenager, she was confined to the bus and forced to observe it all through the filter of her tablet screen.
When he first appeared onstage to deafening adulation, she couldn’t help but smile. That loud, angry mouth of his was pure molten sweetness when it was on her body. She bit her lip and watched him stalk the stage, arms in the air as he welcomed his audience, and wondered what in the world she was going to do with him. Keeping him locked away as a secret in her heart for too long would be unbearable if this turned into anything permanent. He was too larger than life to stay content there for very long.
Which, she had to keep reminding herself, permanency was unlikely. But the little voice that advised caution was sad and quiet and easy to silence right now while she felt so good. Even if all of this ended on the final date of this tour, at least she could say she did something crazy, something wild and even dangerous, and had lived to tell about it.
The band launched into their opener, “Predator.” Appropriate, she thought. Somewhere in the middle of the song, Eli turned to the camera and give it a particularly sly grin that sent an almost electric jolt of elation through her as his eyes connected with hers across the divide between them. Those deadly dimples dug into his cheeks. That was for me, she thought giddily. It had to be.
But this was nothing like being there. The vibe, the energy, the crowd feeding off the music and the band feeding off the crowd, the give and take. She had begun to see the appeal. It was pure catharsis. The first time she’d walked up to the edge of the side stage area and looked out over the seething audience, she couldn’t imagine being among all those people. The crush of sweaty bodies, the noise, the mosh pits. She still couldn’t imagine it
, really, but something had shifted in her perception.
All those people were united. They all had one thing to live for in that moment, and that was the music. Whether they simply wanted to have a good time, or they were working out some inner demons through the dark, brutal landscape of Eli’s sonic assault, they all had that one common purpose. There was a chaotic beauty to it, she supposed.
She’d never felt that kind of unity with a group of people in her life. All the years her parents had spent trying to hammer her into church groups, and she’d never quite fit—the square peg in a round hole.
If she had been able to find something like this in her youth, she might have been empowered. She might have had the courage to stand up for herself. But she’d been denied finding her own wings. The more aware of the world she became, the more her parents had restricted her. Private school had become home school, and her prison had done nothing but shrink over the years until the walls had nearly suffocated her.
She’d wanted to rebel. She really had. But even once she’d sprung free from those prison walls at eighteen, she could feel the phantom remnants of them around her, pressing in on all sides, squashing most of her attempts at a life outside the boundaries of everything she’d been taught.
She was so tired of them. If Elijah could help her demolish what was left of them, she would be forever in his debt.
His mouth between her legs had been a good start.
Every time she thought about it, she had to close her eyes and indulge the little shiver that worked its way up her spine. He’d been more insatiable for her tonight than he had last night, and he’d almost been late for his set. He’d promised more later as long as she stayed naked under the covers until he came back. Iris was more than happy to take him up on that.
Thunder rumbled somewhere off in the distance. When the camera switched around to an audience shot, lightning flickered across the sliver of black sky visible beyond the pavilion roof of the amphitheater. She frowned, wondering what that meant for their set, even their safety. Within a couple of minutes, a deluge of rain roared across the roof of the bus.
On the screen in front of her, the lawn crowd rushed forward in one great wave, fighting for a position under the pavilion. The band played on through the song, Eli keeping a watchful eye on the turmoil. She’d heard the guys talking about how interrupting the show was the absolute worst thing they could do to calm everyone down in a dangerous situation, but nonetheless, after the song’s end, the promoter came out to announce that cloud-to-ground lightning was within a five-mile radius and they would have to end the show to evacuate.
“Sorry, guys,” Eli said to the chorus of boos that went up. “Not our call, but we’re behind it. Get to safety, because we want you crazy motherfuckers around when we come back.”
The more understanding audience members cheered to this, drowning out the ones who would rather be struck by lightning than leave a concert early. Iris jumped out of bed, throwing on her clothes regardless of any sexy instructions he’d given her. Storms always made her nervous, and if a tornado ripped through, she didn’t want to be found naked in the treetops somewhere.
Within minutes, he came pounding up the bus steps, black hair and clothes already dripping from his brief run through the rain. As soon as he saw her, he stopped and frowned. “You got dressed.”
She smacked him on the arm. “It looked like there was about to be a riot or something out there.”
“Nah. They’ll cool off. Before long they’ll shift their ire to social media, where they’ll lambaste us and the promoters and blame everyone except mother nature.” He walked past her to the fridge to grab a bottle of water. “Not the first time, won’t be the last.”
“I hate storms.”
Eli’s eyes never left her as he took a deep drink. “Really? I love them.”
She shrugged. “Severe storms, anyway.”
“If I weren’t a singer, I’d be a storm chaser.”
Weirdly enough, she could see that about him. “Is anything really stopping you?”
Chuckling, he downed the rest of his water. Rain pounded the roof, encasing them in walls of white noise. “Good point. I guess not. Let’s go chase one right now.”
“No way!” she exclaimed, dodging him when he reached for her. “There’s lightning out there.”
“There’s lightning in here, baby.” The husky temptation of his voice stopped her in her tracks, and she let herself be drawn into his arms, closing her eyes and sighing as he pressed his mouth hungrily to her neck. Lust, raw and immediate, rushed through her veins. Beneath his damp clothes, his body was hot and hard against her.
“Eli,” she whispered, those two syllables at once questioning and pleading and praising. She sank her hands into his hair, holding him to her.
“Iris,” he returned, making her wonder what conflicting emotions filled her name when he said it. “Tell me what you want.”
“This.”
“Just this?”
“It’s all I can have.”
He drew away to look at her, and she met the green blaze of his eyes though he pulled the breath from her when he stared at her that way. “I didn’t ask what you can have. I asked what you want.”
She was terrified to tell him, because he might try to give it to her, and that could spell disaster for them all. “I wish . . . we didn’t have to do things this way. Hide this way. I wish I didn’t have to lie to see you. I feel so guilty.”
“I’ll give you anything in my power, but I can’t give you normal. In another world I could take you out, show you off, everything you deserve. But by very virtue of who I am, that’s something I couldn’t do for you even if you didn’t have ties to my ex-wife. Not yet, anyway. I guard my privacy. I’ll guard yours too. Your guilt is useless, Iris, because it would still be this way.”
“But I wouldn’t be betraying someone. And don’t try to say I’m not. You know she would see it that way.”
“I know. I know her better than you do.”
“What are we doing when we know the only thing waiting for us is pain?”
His hands gently cupped her face. She curled her fingers around his wrists, feeling his pulse strong and steady beneath her fingertips. It calmed her, somehow. “I want to see where this goes,” he said, soft but firm, decisive. “Know that. The last thing I want to do is send you home, and I know I was pushy about it. But if you’re unsure, I’ll take you to the airport right now. Or when the weather clears. Is that what you want? Is that what you’re trying to say?”
That was the question, wasn’t it? He had just bottom-lined it for her by giving her a single choice. One she thought she’d already made. Reassessing her feelings brought her to no different conclusions. It would tear her heart apart to leave right now. “No.”
“Then whatever is waiting for us, you think what we have will be worth it.” He leaned in and his lips brushed her forehead, soft as a feather, melting the last of her strength away. “I think it will be, too.”
THAT HE DIDN’T PUSH her for more would remain a wonder to her until the day she died. All that night, he held her, kissed her (everywhere), made her come until she fell into a pleasantly sated sleep. Slowly bringing down her last remaining defenses—if any even existed anymore.
There was little hope the band wouldn’t find out she was with him, but he assured her the unwritten rule of the road was in place, and they were the last people she should be worried about. None of them liked Heidi anyway. But the one time they happened to see Quin in the hotel hallway, he gave them a look that made her doubt everything. She brought it up as she and Eli feasted on room service later that night, but he shook his head.
“I thought about that, but in the end I decided there isn’t anything to worry about. He hates her most of all. No matter how pissed he is at me, she’s the last person he would ever want to speak to again.”
They sat side-by-side on the couch, her right knee pressed to his left as they ate. “Unless he hates you a little
more,” she ventured cautiously, hoping she didn’t offend him. But sometimes she didn’t think he saw the seething animosity that came over Quin whenever they had to be in his presence, or he chose to put up blinders to it.
“He’s mad, but he doesn’t hate me.” He took a generous bite of his burger and set it back down to drag a fry through ketchup.
Iris picked delicately at her salad. “You could’ve fooled me.”
“It’s happened a dozen times over the years. He always gets over it. But his ex-wife and Heidi never got along, and his ex always pulled him into their fights, so over the years Heidi has probably bitched him out more than I have.”
“Oh.”
“Besides, what would he gain by snitching? A fucking ass-whooping and everybody hating him and wanting him gone. That’s all.”
She chuckled. “Would you really whoop his ass?”
“Wouldn’t be the first time.”
“God. How are you guys still together?”
“Money.” His answer was so abrupt that it saddened her. Especially to see the grim certainty of it in his eyes as he looked at her. “For him, anyway. If nothing else, he won’t shit where he sleeps.”
She put an arm around him, dropping a kiss on his bare shoulder. “I hope you’re right about that.”
After they were done eating, she retreated into the bedroom to lie down, listening while Elijah FaceTimed the boys. They sounded as happy and rambunctious as ever, and she found herself smiling up at the ceiling as Dylan excitedly went down the list of things they’d been doing, his volume knob stuck at ten. The zoo, a water park, a minor league baseball game. Iris missed them so much an ache bloomed in her chest, but hearing their dad laugh at their stories, ask questions and share their enthusiasm soothed it.
“And Seger caught a foul!”
“He did?”
“Yeah, and he gave it to me!”
Aww, she was going to cry. Even if Seger sometimes acted as if his little brother got on his last nerve, she knew he loved him fiercely. She wished they could know she was here. She wanted to share in their joy, too.
