Page 15 of Forbidden Billionaire Rockstar

It only takes me a few minutes to get ready, and then I run my hands through my hair to make sure it doesn’t look like I just crawled out of bed — which is almost impossible with the tousled style. When I’m confident with the style, even though it’s not going to last by the end of our show, I take long strides toward the door and pull it open.

I blink a few times at the sight of Mallory standing outside my door, and although it’s the wrong thing to do, I trail my gaze down the length of her body. Although she isn’t showing asmuch skin as she probably could, her legs still look magnificent, and the bright pink strappy heels she’s got on has my dick standing at attention.

As I look at Mallory, I can see the conflict in her eyes. She’s biting her lower lip, a habit I remember from that night months ago. It’s clear she’s battling with herself, probably weighing her professional ambitions against whatever it is that keeps drawing her to me.

“Mallory,” I say, trying to adjust myself as she looks at me nervously. “What are you doing here?”

She sighs heavily and shakes her head. “I don’t even know.”

“I somehow find that hard to believe.” I lean closer, my mouth close to her ear, and ask, “Thinkin’ of christening the dressing room?”

That gets her attention, and she stumbles away from me, eyes wide, then she hurriedly makes her way back down the hall and almost runs into Brent in the process. He frowns at her back, then darts his attention to me and immediately makes his way over.

As I watch Mallory hurry away, I’m hit with a confusing mix of guilt and desire. I shouldn’t be teasing her like this, shouldn’t be pushing these boundaries.

“What the hell did you do this time?”

I smirk at him and shrug my shoulders. “Just told her how good she looks in pink. No big deal.”

He shakes his head and lets out a heavy sigh. “Maybe you should calm down with the comments. I don’t think she likes them so much anymore.”

I’d listen to him if it wasn’t for the fact that right after I made the suggestion, her eyes flashed with a small flicker of heat before going back to that blank stare she loves giving me. But seeing her reaction... it’s addictive. And dangerous.

It seems as though I may not be the only one who can’t stop thinking about our night together.

5

Mallory

My body twitches withrestless energy, each glance at the clock a taunt. Another hour passes, sleep still eluding me. Jace's presence in the hotel, only floors away, feels like an electric current running through the building, charging the air with unspoken possibilities.

With a frustrated groan, I kick off the blankets. If sleep won't come, I might as well caffeinate and face this sleepless night head-on.

I don’t know what I was thinking when I stopped by his dressing room a few nights ago. Since that moment, Jace has hardly looked in my direction. Even when I’ve stopped to say hi to Brent and Julia, I half-expected Jace to take one look at me and make some kind of comment that would have me forced to roll my eyes — he didn’t do that.

I snatch the robe from the back of the bathroom door, tighten it around my frame, and pull my door open with a deep breath. The rest of the hall is quiet, which only adds to the reason I should be asleep, but my body has other ideas.

The elevator doors open almost immediately when I press the arrow to go down, and I calmly step out before leaning against the wall in front of the buttons. Since no one else is awake at this time of night, it only takes a minute for the elevator to stop on the lobby floor, and I head right for the small kitchen space located in one corner of the large room.

The rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee envelopes me, a comforting contrast to the cool air of the hotel lobby. There’s already a pot of coffee ready, a relief for me, and I reach out to pluck a cup from the stack resting next to the coffeemaker. I’m mixing all my creamer inside of the cup when a throat clears behind me, and my heart stutters.

“Sorry, rough night,” I say softly before stepping to the side. “All yours.”

"You know," Jace says as he comes to a stop next to me, reaching for the coffeepot. "If you wanted my attention, all you had to do was ask, sweetheart."

I force myself to meet his gaze, lifting an eyebrow. "Bold of you to assume I want your attention at all, Jace."

He chuckles, the sound rich and warm. "And yet, here we are, both awake at this ungodly hour. Coincidence?"

"Pure chance," I retort, but even to my own ears, the words lack conviction.

When I turn my attention to him, my breath catches in my throat.

Bare chest. Plaid pajama bottoms. Tousled hair.

It takes everything inside of me not to ogle him openly. My fingers twitch, aching to run through his hair, to trace the lines of his abs.

I wrap my arms around myself, a futile barrier against the pull of his presence.

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