Zane, self-conscious? She couldn’t believe it, not for a second. He was one of the most charismatic and self-assured people she’d ever met. He couldn’t walk into a room without controlling it, and she didn’t think he even realized it.
That was part of the beauty of him, perhaps. He didn’t realize it.
“I would be honest with you about it,” she told him.
“That’s what I’m afraid of, Rowan.”
Oh. “Zane, I love anything and everything that comes from your brain. I’m sure I would love this, too.”
“Come on. There’s gotta be something I’ve done you didn’t like.”
“Well . . .”
“Tell me. What’s your least favorite August song?”
“I don’t really like ‘Bombshell’ or ‘Blackout.’”
“Awesome. I don’t, either. In fact, that entire Ode to Joy CD was a rush job we did to get something out there. It’s a lot of people’s favorite, and I truly don’t get that.”
“I understand why it’s popular. It’s raw. It has some of your rawest songs. People can relate to that, especially people going through hard times.”
“Sometimes I wish I got the same therapeutic benefits from my own voice as other people seem to,” he said, sounding a little grim.
“You get the benefits of singing the songs, right?”
“Yeah.” To her astonishment, he reached forward and touched a strand of her hair, curling it around his finger. “It’s enough.”
He didn’t even touch her skin, but she began to tremble nevertheless. Watching his eyes as he watched her. Wondering what in the hell it was that he saw.
“You are so beautiful,” he murmured.
“Am I?”
He nodded, his head rustling against the pillow. “You have a universe behind your eyes.”
“Don’t we all?”
“Not necessarily. You haven’t met some of the dead-eyed motherfuckers I know.”
“Will I meet some of them today?”
“Probably.” Sighing, he let his hand fall away. “More’s the pity.”
She laughed. “Why do you say that?”
“Wanna keep you all to myself.”
You have me, she wanted to say. But she couldn’t. Before she could figure out exactly what to say, he rolled away and sprang from the bed, almost startling her with his swiftness. Those stage moves in action. She couldn’t wait to watch him tonight. “Be right back.”
“’Kay,” she said, and at least this time she didn’t even have to pretend not to watch his naked back as he walked into the bathroom. His perfectly delectable ass in those pants. Then the door closed, and her lovely view was gone.
With his disappearance came the hard slap of reality. She’d flown to another city to meet a man who, despite everything she knew about him and all the times they’d spoken, was virtually a stranger. She’d never seen him angry, never seen him denied something he thought he was entitled to. God, could she do this? Was she ready? She didn’t know. She felt like a virgin about to give it up on prom night. Except she had no idea how that felt because she never went to prom.
If he even wanted her, hell. He’d been all gung ho before, wanting her to come see him in Houston, and now that she was in his bed, he hadn’t even come to her until she was already asleep. Talk about damaging a girl’s confidence. She didn’t get it.
Maybe he’d seen her at the airport and thought she wasn’t what he remembered after all. Maybe her more pronounced pregnancy turned him off. Maybe he’d decided this had all been a huge mistake. She would never recover from that embarrassment.
The bathroom door opened, the light flipped off, and Zane came back to bed, sliding under the covers with her. She had to smile. He’d brushed his teeth too; his warm breath was minty on her cheek as he pulled her close, and she shivered internally.
“You frown in your sleep,” she blurted out, and he paused before laughing.
“Do I? Makes sense, I guess. My dreams are never that great. You snore, by the way.”
Jesus. Christ. “Please tell me you’re joking.”
“I’m not. It’s cute, though. It’s not, like, a monster snore. You didn’t keep me awake or anything.”
“Well, now I feel better,” she said, her cheeks flaming. “I never knew that I snore. Tommy never told me.”
“Hmm.” His lips nuzzled her neck and her entire body jerked. “I told you, it was cute. I thought about waking you up when I came to bed. But you looked so peaceful I figured you needed the rest.”
She couldn’t imagine being woken by him in the middle of the night like this. Swallowing thickly, she turned her face slightly to meet his questing lips. Mint and sweet warmth swirled in her head, setting her heart into an erratic rhythm. He opened his mouth against hers, coaxing her to do the same, and then his tongue dove in as his hands slid up to catch her face and hold her. A whimper was born and died in her throat, leaving her weak and pitiful in the power of his kiss, in the way it opened her soul up. She wanted to let him in.
She couldn’t. His very nearness broke down every defense she possessed. She couldn’t allow that, and if she didn’t stop now, she wouldn’t have anything left later.
“Zane,” she whispered, pulling from him, “I don’t know if I can do this yet. I thought I could. Maybe I can’t.”
“You’re being my skittish little dove again,” he murmured, his arms going around her, but all he did was maneuver onto his back and pull her with him so that her head was lying on his chest. With his heavy exhale, she heard the rush of air through his lungs, felt the heavy throb of his heart as it quickened and then slowed against her cheek.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
“It’s okay.”
It didn’t feel okay. It felt like she was denying herself something beautiful because of guilt. His fingertips trailed lightly over her bare arm, caressing, raising gooseflesh. And she could see clearly from her angle what her nearness did to him. Even the duvet did little to hide it.
God help her, he must be enormous.
Maybe she’d put the brakes on too soon?
But despite the wild ride he could no doubt give her, she was grateful he didn’t try to pressure her. In that moment, she was fairly certain that everything would be okay on this trip. As wicked as he could be, he was understanding. He would be patient with her.
Rowan draped her arm across him, snuggling down into his warmth, soaking in the comfort of his naked skin. “You feel good,” she murmured, thinking she could probably catch another hour or so of sleep just like this.
He rested his lips against her forehead, so she could feel them move as he spoke. “So do you. I’m glad you decided to come.”
“Are you sure?” she asked with a chuckle. Because she felt a little like a gigantic tease.
“Fuck yes, I am. I was wondering, though, what made you decide. You never told me.”
No, she hadn’t. She didn’t like unearthing that memory. “What makes you think something made me decide?”
“Because I really don’t think you’d be here if you weren’t running from something.”
She lifted her head to look at him. He met her gaze, eyes dark and inquisitive. “I wanted to be here,” she assured him.
“Maybe you wanted to. But wanting and doing are two different things.”
God, he’d said a mouthful there. “I did need to get away,” she admitted. “From Tommy’s mom and Savannah and . . . everyone.”
“So you ran to me,” he said gently, stroking her cheek. “I only wish you wouldn’t run from me.”
“I’m here,” she whispered, feeling as if she were falling into those eyes.
“You’re here,” he replied, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, “but you may as well be a thousand miles away.”
“There’s so much between us.”
“Like what?”
Cocking an eyebrow at him, she glanced down at her belly, round and firm and pressing into his side. He laughed, and to
her astonishment, dropped his free hand to rest there. She felt the warmth of his touch through the thin ribbed tank she wore. “You know I think this is amazing,” he said. “It doesn’t put me off in the least. A pregnant woman is beautiful.”
“I don’t feel beautiful.”
“I would show you how beautiful I find you, Rowan, if you’d let me.”
She knew he would. Oh, he would. The thought of him showing her made her tremble and press her thighs together. Their kiss minutes ago had already sparked a heat between them that hadn’t quite been extinguished. She could feel how wet she was, and his hand on her belly wasn’t helping the matter.
Zane was searching her eyes, and she could only guess at the tumult of emotions he saw behind them. She couldn’t decipher it all herself. And though not five minutes past, she’d been thankful he hadn’t pressured her, now she almost wanted him to. If he pushed her, she would fall.
And he pushed.
“Let me make you come,” he said, and the stark words made her suck in a breath. His fingertips teased lower, beneath the hem of her shirt, where just a couple of inches of bare belly were revealed. “That’s all I want, to watch you shatter, hear what you sound like, feel you move against my fingers.”
Shit. Shit.
Rowan couldn’t give voice to her assent; he’d stolen all her vocal powers. Her body, when she rolled onto her back, gave him all the yes he needed. He rose up on his elbow beside her, his mouth descending on hers as his hand caressed lower, inch by inch. He bypassed the waistband of her pajama shorts and cupped her through the fabric, groaning into her mouth.
“Can fucking feel how hot you are.”
She whimpered. She couldn’t do anything else. The pressure he applied was agony, too light to assuage the building ache there, while the pressure of his mouth was deep, invasive. She grasped his head to keep from grabbing his hand and shoving it down the front of her shorts and into her panties.
Now he drew maddening little circles around her clit, and she tilted her hips up, trying to force a firmer contact. He eluded her, teasing mercilessly. Her entire abdomen tightened, all the sensations buffeting her at once so that she could hardly think anymore.
“Do you want me to feel how wet you are?” he murmured against her lips.
“Yes, please,” she managed to rasp. Obviously she still remembered how to beg.
“You aren’t wet enough,” he said, “or I could feel it now.”
Oh, God. She was going to die. He worked her gently with all of his fingertips, strumming, fluttering, one moment a little firmer, the next so light she could hardly feel it. He wasn’t going to have to touch her skin to set her off, if he kept doing this . . .
She was no longer in charge of her own body, and all thought had been whipped from her head as if by hurricane winds. When she arched her back, straining toward the release he kept delaying, his mouth dropped to suck her nipple through her shirt. Rowan gasped as the fabric dampened beneath the wetness of his mouth. All of this was too much, these barriers between the ecstasy of his fingers and his mouth, but when she plunged her thumb into the neckline of her tank and wrenched the stretchy fabric downward, baring her breast to him, he didn’t deny her.
“Fuck, Rowan.” His tongue traced a hot path around and around, then he sucked her hard, making her cry out. She shoved her hands into his hair and clenched, caught on the edge of something huge, something wonderful, if he would just . . .
The hand between her legs pulled away. It found the waist of her shorts, wrenched at them, slid underneath. “Yes, yes, oh yes,” she panted, every sense, every nerve in her being focused on the path those fingers took, on the way he licked her nipple as if he was showing her just how he would like to lick her clit.
“Open your legs,” he commanded, and she did, letting her thighs fall apart when they wanted to close on the intensity of the longing between them. It looked so deliciously dirty when she glanced down the length of her body: the way his wrist disappeared beneath her shorts. The first brush of his fingers in the wet heat of her need sent a jolt through her body, wrenching her hips off the bed.
“Zane,” she gasped, knowing she wouldn’t hold out long as he explored her, his breathing harsh. The breathing she loved to listen to when he sang. She would know it anywhere and now it was here, with her.
He penetrated her, watching her face, and she was unable to look away from the darkness in his eyes as his fingers slipped deep. His expression slackened and he closed his eyes as she stretched around him, slick and greedy for more. “So fucking tight. So wet. I could touch you all day. All night.”
She could let him. His palm pressed tight to her clit, he began gently thrusting, brushing the spot on her upper wall that made her toes curl beneath the covers, made her entire body liquefy and melt and any other verb that left her a useless, weak, trembling puddle.
“Come for me, Rowan,” he whispered. “I want to hear you sing.”
Those hot words, breathed directly into her ear, set off an eruption like nothing she’d ever known before. Every physical and emotional need she’d felt over the past several months peaked in one blinding second and then died as he slew them all at once. She wouldn’t know, later, how loud she cried out for him or what she said or what he said, though she knew he whispered to her as she clenched around his expert fingers and came, and came, and came. He’d wanted to watch her, but she had no idea what it was he saw. Her world became a blinding white light, shutting out everything else.
When her eyes finally drifted open, they were wet, and she was lying on his chest again, trembling, panting softly. He didn’t say anything, and neither did she, at least until several quiet moments ticked by.
“I needed that,” she finally told him, her voice sounding used and raw.
He stirred underneath her, pulling her closer, pressing his lips to her forehead just as he had before. “My services are always at your disposal.”
* * *
He liked how she was bashful now. In the hours after they finally dragged themselves from bed, Zane would catch her looking at him only for her eyes to flit away when he noticed, her cheeks flushed a rosy pink. Her green eyes had a little more sparkle than he’d ever seen too, and he liked to think he put it there.
But he was in agony.
She had been so responsive, so sensitive, so incredibly gorgeous as pleasure swept her away that he’d nearly shot in his fucking pants. A chilly shower had done nothing for the situation. Jerking off in said chilly shower had helped until he saw her serene, sated face again, until he remembered how tight her pussy had gripped his fingers, until he thought about how it would feel to sink inside her to the hilt. Then he was in the same situation all over again, with no help for it, because he wasn’t about to demand reciprocation.
The day sheet had been waiting for him on the carpet in front of the hotel door; Jase had slipped it under the crack. Lobby call at two o’clock. They had plenty of time for room service, and he was pleased when Rowan ate much more than her birdlike pickings when they ate dinner. He was particularly fond of watching her lips close around the juicy red strawberries.
She wore a loose sleeveless top in a shade of green that exactly mirrored her eyes. It was a little difficult to tear his attention away from the beguiling color as she sipped her orange juice. A companionable silence had fallen between them, but he didn’t feel inclined to break it. A spell had been cast between them, but it was a peaceful one. He didn’t want to disturb it for her.
Whatever she was running from—and he was convinced she was running—he wanted to help her escape it.
But then it was time to head over to the venue for their headlining set later that night. He found he was looking forward to it a little more, knowing she would be there watching him.
Jase met them in the hotel lobby. Zane knew from the look on his square-jawed face that he wasn’t happy. “There’s a group of fans outside,” he said. “I don’t know if they found you out or they guessed. Likely someone sta
ying here for the festival saw us come in yesterday and put the word out.”
“All right,” Zane said, glancing at Rowan, who was looking rather wide-eyed at the prospect. “How many?”
“About thirty. How do you want to work it?”
Jase always asked because he knew Zane’s answer varied depending on his mood. Some days he was more than happy to oblige them and sign some autographs. Others he simply wanted to get to the venue, do his job, and lie low. Today, with Rowan being here, it was the latter. Still, he hated disappointing fans. Any fans.
“Is the car out there?”
“Right at the curb and waiting.”
“Let’s go.”
Rowan wore dark sunglasses and had tucked all her long blond hair up in a messy bun; he wanted to rush her by as fast as possible since it would spark interest that he had a woman by his side. “Are you ready?” he asked her, putting a hand to her back. “Straight to the car. Be careful.”
“Okay.”
Their pace was swift with Jase leading the way, positioning his body between Zane and most of the group, who began calling excitedly when they saw him. He ushered Rowan ahead of him quickly, Jase giving her a hand up into the black SUV, and only then did he pause and give the fans a wave. Several had cell phones pointed directly at him. “See you guys at the show,” he called out, then stepped into the idling vehicle as soon as Rowan was settled.
“Wow,” she breathed, pushing her sunglasses to the top of her head. “It’s so exciting!”
He chuckled and gave the driver in the front seat a nod. “It gets a little too exciting at times.”
“Like losing a chunk of hair,” she recalled.
Jase laughed, turning around from the passenger seat as the car pulled away from the curb. “I remember that.”
“You didn’t get to her fast enough?” Rowan asked teasingly. “That surprises me.”
“Oh, I didn’t get her before she got him,” he said, “but I got her.”
Rowan sent Zane a questioning look. “That doesn’t sound good.”
“She was contained,” he said. What he meant was rushed bodily into a brick wall. Which he had hated to see, but you never could be too careful with these people. He’d received more than his share of death threats from angry boyfriends of female fans, more than his share of stalkers and weird messages from the female fans themselves. When it came to his person, Jase defended him ruthlessly.