Page 94 of Serving the Maestro

“You couldn’t hurt me, Trent,” she said, spitting the words out as if they tasted foul. “So don’t flatter yourself.”

She stormed out, leaving me alone in the quiet of the recording studio. I stood there, relief flooding me.

Pulling my phone from my pocket, I called Jazz.

“Hello?”

Just hearing her voice made the strange, tight sensation in my chest ease, and I smiled.

“Why don’t you put on something extra sexy for tonight, baby?” I asked her. “I want to take you out to dinner and then to a place I think you’ll love.”

THIRTY-FOUR

JAZZ

The evening out was exactly what I needed.

I still hadn’t figured out how to tell Trent about the positive pregnancy test, so the distraction was welcome.

A last-minute shopping trip landed me a slinky blue cocktail dress and silver heels that had Trent’s eyes going hot the moment he saw me step out of the bedroom.

But he hadn’t touched me other than a single stroke of his finger down my cheek.

All night, though, he’d looked at me as if he wanted to devour me. By the time he led me inside a private club, I was all but shaking with need.

I’d almost asked if we could just go home during the ride over in the private limo he’d rented for the night but had held back.

Once we were inside the club, he took my hand and led me to the edge of the dance floor.

“Look.”

The brush of his lips against my ear made me shiver, and it took a few seconds to focus past that, a few more for my mind to process what I was seeing.

By the time I did, Trent had moved to stand behind me, one hand resting on my belly. There was no way for him to miss my suddenly erratic breaths.

There were several raised platforms around the dance floor and a central stage. My gaze locked on the scene as a woman, arms bound behind her back, stood at rapt attention to the man before her.

She would have been absolutely naked if it weren’t for the lush red rope twining around her form.

As I watched, the man binding her stopped in front of her and flicked one nipple, then the other.

I felt an answering pang in my nipples, then further, between my thighs, a hot, wet clenching.

“Let’s go dance,” Trent murmured against my ears.

“I’m not sure if I can,” I said, staring at the bondage display. My cheeks were on fire, and although I felt a little self-conscious, I was so aroused by what I saw, that it washed out everything else.

“Why not?”

I craned my neck around to meet Trent’s eyes, heart hammering hard against my ribs.

“Take a guess,” I said tartly.

He tapped his fingers against my belly, slipping them lower, lower...

I gasped before his lips closed over mine.

When he lifted his head, the hunger in his eyes almost leveled me.

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