Page 12 of Reckless Encore

“They’ll show, Red. Trust me.” He shot her a sad smile and brought her knuckles to his lips. “I’ll make sure tomorrow is perfect for you.”

She didn’t require perfection. She only needed her bad-ass drummer by her side.

“You’re angry. Please don’t put any additional pressure on yourself.”

He stopped in the middle of the boardwalk, his fierce eyes softening as he leaned in to gently glide his mouth over hers. “I’m frustrated, that’s all. I’ll be back to normal in a few minutes.”

She nodded, their noses rubbing, their lips brushing. “Want me to help speed up the process?”

“Hmm?” He palmed her ass and lifted her off the ground to continue walking them to their villa. “How do you plan on doing that?”

“I’m thinking I might have to blow your mind, Mr. Taiden.”

“My mind?” He grinned. “I’m sure you’d have better results if you aimed a lot lower.”

She ran her hands through his short-cropped hair. “And ruin my virtue?”

He growled, grinding his erection against her stomach. “Red, I ruined that a long time ago.”

Chapter Four

Leah woke with a headache. A big headache.

She hadn’t wanted to tell Sean and Melody this impromptu vacation was a horrible idea, but it was. She had a to-do list a mile long with the looming album release, and apparently drinking away the stress hadn’t been the best idea.

Her head hammered through breakfast, and continued while she showered. Her only consolation came from knowing Mason and Sidney had continued drinking after Ryan had demanded she call it a night. If she felt like hell, Mason would most definitely be praying for death.

“Let’s hustle, boss.” Ryan poked his head into the bathroom. “It’s five past nine. We need to make a move.”

She released a theatrical sob.

For Sean’s sake, she hoped this morning had nothing to do with team building. Which said a lot about her temperamental state, because she usually had to be the enthusiastic one shuffling everyone along to the group activities.

“I’m almost ready.” She touched up her makeup, making sure the darker shade of lipstick and extra layer of foundation hid her ravenous need for sleep. “What time did we go to bed last night?”

She walked from the bathroom, finding Ryan sitting on the edge of the king-size mattress, pulling on his shoes.

“I went to bed around two. But you decided to stay up and keep dancing with your wine bottle.”

“I did not.”

He raised a brow. “I have video proof.” He leaned to the side and pulled his cell from the back pocket of his shorts. “Want to see?”

Her head increased its pounding. “No. I’m good.”

He grinned at her and pushed to his feet. “That’s probably for the best. You have no rhythm when you’re drunk.”

“And apparently, no ability to determine when I’m closing in on alcohol poisoning. You should’ve stopped me earlier.”

He laughed and walked for the door. “I find it amusing that you think I have any control over you.”

“Of course you do.” Kind of. Well, maybe not.

She followed him outside and winced when the evil sun fried her vision. “I need to go back and get my sunglasses.” She turned, only to have him grip her hand and tug.

“Nope. No time. We’re already late. Consider this me taking control.”

She whimpered and dragged her feet along beside him. This role-reversal sucked, but she couldn’t deny how hot it was when her husband took charge.

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