Page 8 of The Roadie
“That’s the best I can do. It’s not coming off.” Brett remained squatting next to her and tried one more time with his bandana.
“Thank you. Please get up. I’ll have the shoe place take care of it.”
He stood and took her elbow in his hand. “Do you need me to help you? Are you all right?”
“I’m . . .” While he held her elbow, his thumb gently massaged the indent on the inside of her arm. It was insanely erotic, and she couldn’t finish her sentence. Her mouth was still open, but nothing came out. He was standing so close to her, less than a foot away, and she was frozen by his gaze. It traveled deep within her, caressing her from the inside out. His stare turned her into a pool of melting butter and broke down all of her defenses. Her eyes dropped to his mouth as he leaned in, making her lips quiver and beg for another visit from his skilled tongue.
While his thumb continued to stroke the tender flesh on the inside of her elbow, his kiss suffocated her. She couldn’t get enough of this man and leaned into him. He pushed her against the wall and flattened his body against hers. One hand slid around her waist, and the other cupped her cheek, while his scruffy beard tickled her and his tongue claimed her. Everything came back to her. The way he had consumed her until she cried out. The way he penetrated her while holding her suspended in his arms. The way he brought her to unsurmountable ecstasy. And the way his strength made her weak.
His erection made itself known like a steel rod and drove a shuddering sensation through her core. It was unlike any reaction she’d ever had before, and she sighed loudly. “I don’t know what you do to me.”
A sly smile spread across his lips. “I’m just doing what you want.”
They melted into the wall as they shared another kiss, bodies molding together from shoulder to knee.
“I have to get back to work,” she said, breathlessly.
“Meet me for dinner.”
“I can’t.”
“Why not?”
She had absolutely no good reason not to see him. Except that he totally corrupted her ethics. “All right. Seven thirty.”
He stole her phone from her back pocket and held it up to face her. “Put in your code.”
“What?”
“Just do it.”
She punched in her security code, unlocking her phone. He turned it around and tapped on the keypad. Ringing came from within his pocket before he ended the call and handed her phone back to her. “Now you have my number and I have yours. I’m calling you at seven. Don’t stand me up.”
She went back to the studio, flushed and overheated. Before she opened the door, she stopped and glanced back at Brett, who was still standing in the hallway and smiling at her.Get a grip, she told herself, taking a deep breath and pushing her shoulders back before entering the studio. She expected to find everyone back to work, but they were all still enjoying lunch and goofing around. At least Angel and Tommy were deep in conversation with Brandon Bullet, discussing something around the soundboard.
Kira went straight over to her sister. “Do you see your husband? I guess these Bulletproof guys are a bad influence.” Jimmy and Alan Delgado were in the middle of a competition to see who could spin their drumsticks the longest.
“Don’t blame Bulletproof. It was Jimmy who initiated the challenge. And I think he’s winning.” Audra turned toward Kira and her smile faded. She leaned closer and looked at Kira more intently. “Why are you so flushed and out of breath?”
Kira felt the heat on her cheeks and tried to hide it with her hands. “I just saw Brett in the hallway.”
Audra’s mouth fell open. “Did you just have a quickie in the hallway?”
“No! But I agreed to see him tonight.”
Kira’s phone vibrated at exactly seven o’clock. She knew it was Brett but couldn’t take the call because she had headphones on while she listened to Jimmy’s drum tracks. If everyone weren’t such perfectionists, they would have been done hours ago. Since Bulletproof had a hard stop at four, the vocals and guitar chords were recorded first, and then Immortal Angel was left to add the rhythm, which was taking forever.
It took 35 minutes before she could pull herself away to return Brett’s call. She ducked into the restroom, found the missed call and tapped on it.
“Standing me up after all, huh?” Brett teased.
“No. I’m stuck at the studio. I’m sorry. I’ll be another hour, at least.”
“I know how it is. I’ve been at enough recording sessions to know they never go as planned. Musicians!” he scoffed, playfulness heavy in his voice.
She laughed, relieved he didn’t think she was blowing him off. “I really want to see you later. Will you be around?”
“I got no plans. Except to take a really hot music exec out to dinner.”
