Page 52 of Follow the Rhythm
I rose on my tiptoes and braced my hands against his chest. Thanks to the boots, I could just about reach his ear to whisper: “It reminds me of when we almost lost control. I still think about that night, you know.”
Charlie gripped my hips. “Me too.”
“Did you think about me last night?” I asked, my fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt.
“Fuck, Jess,” he said, almost pained.
The plan was quickly spiraling out of my control. Charlie’s scent was thickening, along with his cock against my hip, and I held onto the strands of my sanity even as my arousal built.
“What a shame you were all alone. Maybe next time you won’t try to manipulate a poor, innocent woman into doing what you want by refusing to get her a hotel room of her very own,” I said, then stepped back with an evil smile.
Charlie panted, staring down at me. He looked dazed for a moment, then grinned. “Well played.”
“Have a great gig,” I said, trying to sound carefree, and turned away.
Charlie wrapped me up from behind. His lips grazed the shell of my ear, and I shivered. “You might want to put on some more descenter, beautiful.”
I sniffed my shoulder. Damn it. He was right. Revenge had come at a price.
I stalked toward the door that would lead to the outside and flipped him off. He dared to laugh.
Of course, the bus wasn’t empty. That would have been too easy. Kieran was there, which meant soundcheck had ended.
As soon as I stepped onto the bus, his head whipped towards me, his nostrils flaring as he registered my perfume. His scent almost bowled me over. In my already weakened state, I had to fight the urge to throw myself at him.
We looked at each other.
“I needed a shirt,” he said.
“I came to get more descenter,” I replied. Somehow, the space between us was shrinking.
“There’s not enough descenter in the world to hide your perfume, love,” he rumbled. He was suddenly right in front of me. Had he moved, or had I?
“You’re not helping,” I said, reaching for his waist where I knew ridges of hard muscle were waiting for me to explore. His shirt was damp with sweat. He tensed as I traced my fingers under the hem.
I tried to tell myself it was my instincts, that I was out of control, but that was a lie. I wanted him. And couldn’t I just have what I wanted without all the Omega bullshit getting in the way?
Kieran stood completely still as I stretched my hands up under his shirt, feeling the hard planes of muscle on his chest. My perfume swirled around us, and I could feel slick gathering between my legs. My clit was throbbing with a sweet ache. “Take it off,” I said.
He complied, and I bit my lip. Shirtless, he looked even more like a Viking. Tattoos swirled along his chest and shoulders, down his arms. There was a traditional clipper ship on one arm, Celtic designs on his chest, and a large geometric piece on his left shoulder. I saw the wild woman on his ribs and brushed my hand along it. Dark hair dusted his chest, then trailed down to disappear into his waistband.
But before I even had a chance to appreciate the view properly, he pulled on a fresh shirt.
I suppressed a whine. “You’re not supposed to be putting clotheson.”
“Not yet,” he said, his eyes gleaming.
“‘Not yet’? What does that mean?”
“I mean, we’re not doing this yet. Let me court you. Go on a date with me.”
“You’re insane,” I said dismissively. “I told you, I don’t date, and I don’t want to becourted. Can’t we just have fun? With no weird expectations?”
“And I told you, love, I don’t want something ‘fun’ with you.” He stepped around me, carefully not touching me. “And I won’t fuck you on a tour bus couch for the first time, either.”
I gaped at him. He gave me a grim smile.
“You’re seriously walking away right now?”
