Page 66 of I Knew You Were Trouble

‘Do you need to go?’ I whisper.

‘Not without making you come first,’ he breathes and I arch my back as he continues to stroke me. ‘We cannot have sex on this sofa though,’ he whispers into my neck. ‘Not for the first time.’

‘Okay,’ is all I can manage to reply against a delicious sensual onslaught.

Someone raps on the door again, trying the handle. ‘Aidan?’ the voice outside demands. ‘Showtime! We need you now.’

‘I’ll be there in a second!’ he barks impatiently towards the door.

I can already feel my climax building in smaller peaks that wash over me, Aidan’s fingers working me in slick, swift, sweet circular motions, until I’m trembling for a release. Lately, I’ve done this enough times by myself, picturing him doing exactly what he’s doing to me now, yet the reality exceeds all of my expectations, and I’ve been robbed of the ability to form even the most basic of responses.

Aidan doesn’t flinch, keeping his eyes on mine as he pleasures me.

The voice outside grows aggravated. ‘Aidan? We need to go. Right now!’

‘I’m coming!’ he growls at the door, just as my mouth falls open, my head going back, and I breathe hard in and out to stop a moan from escaping my lips as my orgasm swells against his fingers, my back arching for a second time at the sensations exploding between my legs. He doesn’t stop, wringing every drop of pleasure from me until I’m spent.

My body goes limp. Heat warms my cheeks. Opening my eyes again, I find Aidan’s looking down at me with a wicked smile on his face.

‘Well, that’s the first time I’ll be taking to the stage with one of those,’ he whispers, looking down the length of his body to the obvious ridge in his black parachute-style trousers.

I actually giggle. ‘No, that’s definitely not professional.’

He kisses me tenderly again. ‘I wish I could see you after the show.’

‘Aidan, what gives? Seriously, we gotta go!’ the voice shouts outside, now irritable.

He rolls his eyes. ‘I need one more second!’ he claps back. We take our cue to move from the sofa and, once upright, I adjust my trousers, my body still fizzing, my legs weak. He takes both my hands in his. ‘Maybe stay behind the door and wait a couple of minutes before you leave.’

I’m happy that he’s complying with my wishes to keep this between us.

He cradles my face in his palms. ‘I’ll see you in Dubai, okay?’

Our kiss is long and slow, threatening to consume us both again, until more hard knocks at the door bring me crashing back to reality. I cling to him for one more second. There are more voices outside now, asking where he is and what he’s doing. This is all part of sharing him.

‘Go,’ I whisper, and as I move behind the door, cold air replaces his warmth. ‘See you in Dubai.’

Chapter Nineteen

Dubai, United Arab Emirates

December

‘What hemisphere are we in again?’ Duncan grunts from the wide wooden sunbed that he is occupying, parallel to mine.

‘Back in the northern,’ I sigh, without opening my eyes. It’s twenty-nine degrees out. ‘Technically, it’s winter.’

The real winter seems a world away. We’re back at another Park Hyatt: this one sprawling and low rise, with stunning Middle Eastern touches. I wordlessly thanked the executives at Silverpix the moment we checked in to the property at Dubai Creek. The band’s accommodation is located somewhere extortionately expensive over on The Palm.

Duncan is quiet for a moment, before he mutters, ‘I could get used to this. I don’t know what day it is, what date it is, I feel like I’m living in this other transient dimension where nothing matters but how loud the girls scream and how expensive the hotels are. Lex, I know I’m supposed to hate it, but this is the best job you’ve ever given me. Don’t know how I’m gonna go back to living in a tent after this.’

I glance up over my sunglasses, chuckling as he sits up to take a sip from his bottle of beer. Duncan may have pale Scottish colouring, but he works out, and his are some of the most impressive biceps I’ve ever seen, complete with a well-defined six-pack and a Celtic tattoo on his right shoulder. Other than Aidan, he’s the only memorable lover I’ve had, yet lying here, I think it’s a shame Meredith isn’t here to witness the glory that is my cameraman’s stacked physique. Right now, Meredith is hanging out with Tun, or so she’d said.

I’d be lying to myself if looking at Duncan in only his swimming shorts with his shirt off, lounging by the most glamorous swimming pool I’ve ever seen, doesn’t make me think about Aidan. After the final show in Cape Town, on his way to the airport with Bodhi, he’d bombarded me with improper messages on my phone, letting me know just how much he’d enjoyed our time together. My cheeks redden at the memory of his fingers caressing me, only three evenings before. I expected to hear from him after we touched down in Dubai, only he’s gone quiet. I’ve had one or two messages, telling me that he can’t wait to see me again, though the quantity I thought I would receive hasn’t materialised. I’m torn between playing it cool and keeping things casual, or climbing in a taxi to track him down, marching into his hotel room and demanding that he kiss me again.

I’m still thinking about Aidan half an hour later when I spy Meredith approaching, wearing a floaty zebra print cover-up and a sun hat, walking at speed in a pair of flip-flops towards us, weaving in and out of the palm tree trunks and other sunbeds. She comes to a halt at the empty sunbed next to Duncan’s. He raises his head as Meredith throws off her cover-up to reveal her bikini underneath. I watch in amusement as Duncan’s jaw drops. Though petite, Meredith has a gorgeous, curvaceous, womanly figure that clearly hasn’t escaped my camerman’s attention.

‘Two things,’ Meredith announces, taking off her hat and scraping her loose hair into a ponytail, causing her to lean back and thrust out her chest. I check, and Duncan still hasn’t dragged his gaze away.

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