Page 89 of Love You Like That (Excess All Areas 4)

And she was totally in love with Alex King.

But was terrified by both in equal measure.

It would change things.

It would change her.

And she had no clue if it would be for the better.

Zoe bit down on her lip. “I need to leave. I need to go and see my old music professor. I need his help.”

Alex cupped her cheek gently. “I understand. I want you to go. Passion, remember. You need to chase it, even if it’s not here, with me.”

“What happens next? To us, if I go back to Manchester, and you carry on with the tour?”

“Don’t worry about us. You’re scared. I get it. I’m nervous too because this is special. But I think we both know we want this. So, we do what Matt and Iz are doing. You catch up with us when you can. I come to you when there’s a break. We be there for each other any way we can in between.”

She wrapped her arms around him and burrowed her nose against his neck. Alex tugged her close, his lips brushing the top of her head.

She dragged her fingers along his skin.

“You’ve had enough excitement, tonight,” Alex said, placing his palm over her restless hand. “Let’s get some sleep, then we’ll plan how to get you home in the morning, yeah?”

“That sounds perfect,” she said, her lips moving against his chest. “I’m glad you’re here, Alex.”

“I’m glad we have each other.”

Alex woke slowly.

His brain came lazily online. Memories of the Nottingham gig. The crowd. The drive back to—

Zoe.

She’d played.

And he’d never heard anything like it. When she’d told him that her playing was like angels descending, he’d just rolled with it. But hearing her. Yeah, now he fucking got it.

He placed a kiss on the top of her hair, still bundled up after the bath or shower he assumed she’d taken the previous evening. She smelled soapy. Clean.

And her body felt like heaven pressed up against his.

Now she wanted to go back to Manchester, and he was determined to make it so they could carry on as they were. Carry on until the next time her body was writhing beneath him, the next time they could chat, or eat a meal together.

Because the passion inside her when she played was everything.

The rich sound had travelled down the hotel, hitting him as he stepped out of the elevator. Other guests had popped their heads out of their rooms to see what was going on. Because as Zoe changed to play the Mission Impossible theme tune, the volume had increased. By the time she played whatever the hell that last song had been, the playing had been frenetic.

Powerful.

Vibrant.

And when he’d finally opened the door to their room, he could see it. The wildness in her eyes, the breathlessness that came from exertion, the flush in her cheeks from excitement.

She looked the same after sex, when she was fully back in her body.

And he’d never been more aroused by a single person before.

Had they not had an audience, he would have devoured her whole.

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