Page 26 of Hard Rock Deceit
Forget minor aches and pains. Dealing with these guys was no doubt a daily migraine initself.
Distracted by Cameron and Noah, August caught sight of me standing with my camera in my hands. He looked startled, as if not expecting to see me there. The surprise soonsoftened.
"How's it coming along?" heasked.
The muscles in my belly tightened in response to that low, huskyvoice.
"Good. Making progress. I think." I didn't know whether he meant the photos or the emotion thing. The answer appliedtoboth.
August nodded. His gaze drifted to the stage, the way it had after his performance at the last concert. His eyes were distant, glassy, as if he wasn't quite in the present. I'd seen that look on him a few times. His mind was no doubt already thinking about the concert, his attention fully on the upcoming live show. Maybe there was no room in his brain foranythingelse.
He turned backtome.
"Have you beenjournaling?"
A shot of panic went through me at the thought of August seeing all the silly little notes I'd made to myself. He chuckled at mypaleface.
"I'm not going to look. It's just for you. You're not getting gradedonit."
"I'm always wondering if I'm doing itwrong."
"There's no such thing as right or wrong. If it helps, it helps. If not, we trysomethingelse."
I played with the camera strap, fidgeting. I held it outtohim.
"Take a look and tell me if it'shelping."
August clicked through the photos I'd been taking. His lips pursed as he made interesting sounds in the back of his throat. I couldn't tell if they were good sounds or badsounds.
"Better,"hesaid.
My heartlifted.
"Slightly better," headded.
I suppressed a smile. At least I wasn't at risk of developing a huge ego aroundthisman.
"I'm finding it difficult," I confessed. "I'm making note of what I'm feeling, but I don't know if it's what you'relookingfor."
August placed a hand on my shoulder, squeezing. The heat of his palm burned into my bare skin. Ishivered.
"I'm not looking for anything. This is allforyou."
That reassuring touch turned into a caress, his finger trailing along my collarbone. I swallowed hard. His gaze was fixated, as if mesmerized, while callused fingertips ran a trail up my throat, along my jaw. His large hand cupped the back of my head, sifting through the darkstrands.
He leaned forward. My heart jumped in mychest.
Soft lips brushedmyear.
"What are you feelingrightnow?"
His voice was low and husky, inflaming every inchofme.
"I don't know," Istammered.
The hitch of my breath, the trembling of my fingers, the flush of my cheeks, told a differentstory.
Arousal.
