Page 91 of Snared

I couldn’t stop myself from smiling a bit. “Sometimes you freak me out when you’re sweet.”

I leaned my body closer to him, wanting to shake the vulnerability.

His eyes darkened with desire. “I am not sweet. Take that back.”

I gave a low chuckle. “Don’t worry, I’ll never tell.”

Then I lifted up on my toes and pressed my lips to his.

My world was spinning, but it was so easy to forget that when his arms wrapped around me and his mouth consumed me.

I’d fake-smiled my way through our interview that afternoon. Granted, notallthe questions had been about my marriage. But none of the questions directed solely at me had anything to do with my drumming. And I could see it in the DJ’s eyes. He didn’t give a shit about me being there.

It fucking irked. I’d thought I was a gimmick before, but now it was worse. Every doubt I had—every fear—was rearing its ugly head. The media was right; I was wrong. And no amount of reassurance from Josh—or bone-tingling orgasms from Josh—diminished my frustration and anger.

I even saw judgment in the eyes of some of our crew during most of the sound checks since Vegas. I’d gotten pretty good at ignoring it, but I was off today. After our arrival at the hotel earlier and then the pushy DJ, I was rattled.

I’d wanted to escape back to the hotel and barricade myself in our room until it all died down, but I knew wallowing wasn’t going to get me anywhere. And hiding out solved nothing.

“Come here,” Josh said, pulling my attention as he ushered me down the hallway.

Based on the opening chords I heard, Savage was almost finished with their set, which meant I had less than an hour to get my shit together and plop my ass behind my kit so I could give the fans the show they paid for—the show they deserved.

For now, I would follow Josh. He was part of the damn problem, but when he touched me, all I wanted was for him to keep doing it.

He pushed open a random door and tugged me inside.

I laughed when the door shut behind us and he pressed me against the wall. “You cannot be serious.”

He grinned. “You looked like you needed a distraction.”

I smirked. He wasn’t wrong. “Don’t mess up my makeup.”

“Oh, I’m definitely messing it up,” he said, leaning down and swiping his tongue across my lips.

I opened without a thought, tangling my tongue with his as he clutched my jaw with one hand and my hip with the other.

“Fuck, I can never get enough of you,” he murmured against my mouth, then he darted his tongue back in and kissed away every doubt in my head.

My hands snaked up his shoulders, delving into his hair, and I raised up on my tiptoes to get as close as possible. His cock pressed hard against my stomach and I rocked into him, needing the friction, needing to feel how much he wanted me.

He broke the kiss with a growl that vibrated through my entire body, and his hands squeezed my ass as he lifted me. I wrapped my legs around his hips, grinding my core against his cock, wishing there was nothing between us.

“Fucking hell, Charlie,” he gritted out between bruising kisses.

My mouth was going to look well-kissed, but I couldn’t bring myself to care as heat burst inside me.

I scraped my nails along his scalp, loving how he shuddered under my touch. There was something so powerful about bringing this man to his knees. And it was a position he seemed to enjoy being in.

Fuck. I couldn’t wait to get back to our room tonight. We definitely didn’t have time for everything I wanted now.

His finger pressed along the seam of my zipper and I gasped against his mouth as my legs fell from his hips, my feet landing on the floor, slightly spread.

“We can’t do that now.” My protestations were weak, even to my own ears.

“One taste,” he said, his hand slipping into my pants.

And then he was on his knees, looking up at me and drawing my zipper down.

---