Backstage with Her Ex (9 page)

Dragging her into the darkest corner he could find, he pressed her against a wall. Ran his fingertips over the curve of her cheek, into her hairline, couldn't take his eyes away from her heated gaze. His thumb ran tiny circles along her jaw until it hit the corner of her mouth, which puckered. But what turned him on most was the sheer need in those eyes.

Before he knew what he was doing he crushed his mouth on hers. This time he didn't want to be gentle, didn't want to savour her taste, he wanted to take her, possess her.

And she responded with equal hunger, a greedy meshing of souls, with a deep thirst for more. Her desire fuelled his as she rocked against him, gentle moans coming from her throat, her hands cupping his backside and pulling him closer until they were body on body, skin on skin.

It was too much, but nowhere near enough.

And all too quickly she pushed away, breathless and hot. ‘God, what are we doing?'

Searching her face, he wondered whether she was joking. He couldn't help the smile. ‘I think that's pretty obvious.'

‘But we can't.'

‘We just did.'

‘Not here, you noggin. There's...there's too many reasons. There's way too much to do out there. We can't get carried away. Goodness.' She playfully struggled against him, but she was laughing, her head tipped back, and the delicate curve of her throat moved with the musical sound.

He planted a kiss to the racing pulse at her throat, breathed in her scent, and she wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing closer so he could feel the soft shape of her beneath the silky fabric.

‘Forget everything else, Sash. Let someone else sort it out. One of the other teachers, the mums. The choir. Somebody. Anybody. But not you.' His hands ran down the back of the soft fabric; on their way they discovered the ridge of a bra strap, the outline of her pants. ‘I have plans for you right here.'

‘What if the cash gets stolen?'

‘You know, you worry too much.'

‘Hey, I live in this neighbourhood. I have due cause to worry.' She squirmed as he licked against the nape of her neck, whispering through a stifled giggle, ‘Besides, someone might see us.'

‘Story of my life.' He sighed and leaned his head against hers. They were hidden enough behind large boxes and electrical equipment, but she had a point.

Sasha always had a good point, but he was always too busy enjoying the moment to think through the consequences of his actions. But, well, he didn't want to let go of
this
moment. ‘This thing between us, it isn't going away, is it?'

‘No, I guess not.'

‘Staying away doesn't help. Being with you makes it worse. D'you think we should do something about it?' When he palmed her breast through the folds of her dress she moaned and pressed harder against him.

‘I could be convinced.' She bit her bottom lip and her cheeks pinked. She knew exactly what he was asking, and her blatant answer surprised him. ‘But where would we go?'

‘I don't know. There's a prowl of photographers out there just waiting to catch me. They'll follow us to my hotel, make a scene.'

Pushing her hands against his chest, she nodded. ‘My place, then. They surely won't be interested in me and how I leave this place. My car's out the back. The pink saloon nearest the gym. You want to risk it?'

Good question. Risk what? His privacy? Hers? His heart? ‘Do you?'

Stupid to ask her that question—now uncertainty flitted across her face. A sharp intake of breath. A frown. He could see the workings of her mind, the answers she struggled to find. Sasha, who planned everything, who factored danger and risk into every moment. ‘I...I don't...know...'

He took one of her hands. ‘Sasha, I can't promise you anything, certainly not the stable future you crave. You need to know I am going back to LA.'

So where was he going with this?
Sleep with me. Make love with me. Stay with me, just once
. First time in living memory that he'd had to ask. And he liked her all the more for it.

He hoped she could see that he was being genuine for once in his life, and that this wasn't some kind of play. That it was Sasha he wanted, not just anyone.

Was it? Whether he played her or not, he hoped the end result would be the same. Him. Her. Hot, and sticky.

Her gaze burnt with desire.

He fought the need to have her now against the back wall. But it almost killed him. ‘Sasha, I swear to God, if you don't stop looking at me like that I won't be held responsible for the headlines tomorrow.
Teacher and rock star found in flagrante backstage.
'

She ran her finger along his jawline, the passion mingling with anxiety as she struggled with the enticement of living dangerously. Foreign territory for a practical planning kind of girl.

Fiddling with a lock of her hair, she sighed. ‘What about your plans? Your flight?'

‘It's just an interview. It can wait. I'll reschedule, go tomorrow.' He was losing her.

Kissing her neck seemed to focus her on task—which involved her hand on his back, running up and down his spine. Those lips against his neck. Her breasts pressed tight against him. Her scent stoking the fire burning in his gut. ‘What do you say, come on, do something spontaneous, let's have a few more minutes together. I'll make it worth every second, I promise.'

‘I don't know...'

‘Come on, we're good together—you can't deny that. I'll get Dario to head the press off out the front.'

‘So he does have some uses after all. He's starting to grow on me.' Her red curls shivered as she seemed to reconcile some kind of battle going on in her head. She took a long deep breath but didn't come up with the reply he was hedging towards.

‘It's an easy answer, woman. Yes or no. No need to make a whole new plan or a quick list of pros and cons. It'll be good, I promise you that.' He spoke into her ear. Slowly. Making sure she understood. ‘Very. Very. Good.'

To his relief she nodded. ‘Okay, I'll sort out the cash and the mess. Meet you out the back in, what, fifteen minutes?'

‘Fifteen? Can't you be any quicker?' Fifteen minutes was enough time for all those doubts to start creeping back. Nuzzling his hardness against her thigh, he nibbled her ear lobe. ‘Make it ten?'

Her moan was frank and loud. ‘God, if you promise to do that again, I'll be ready in five.'

NINE

Somehow, Sasha couldn't
remember how, they'd reached her apartment, fallen onto her bed, their kisses hard and hot and turning her brain to mush. Nathan's hands were like magic, sending spasms of ecstasy through her with every touch. She wanted more of his kisses. She wanted him naked. She wanted him now.

She fumbled with his belt, tugged at his zip, the hardness of his erection making her stomach clench in anticipation. And just a little fear. He was so big. So hard.

You can handle this
.

He lay against her, eyes dark with frank desire as he unfastened her bra and cupped her breast. ‘Hey, slow down, Sasha. We've got all night.' His head tipped and he sucked her nipple into his mouth, sending heat shimmering through to her core. ‘You're right, you have changed. You're in a hurry.'

She wanted to tell him, no. That she was still the same scared person underneath, that she didn't know if she would be enough for him, that she didn't know what she was doing, but, God, it felt so good.

He pressed against her, the thick weight of him, the smell of him filling her body with sensations she'd never had before, breathtaking, heart-stalling sensations that made her lose touch with reality. Her hands ran along the waistband of his trousers to the hard-muscled V of his abdomen as she relished his sharp intake of breath, his skin puckering under her fingers; his T-shirt, like her dress, long since cast aside, who knew where. ‘Sorry. I just...I just...'

She needed to have him before her courage faltered.

He stopped her shaking hand with his. ‘I know. Crazy, eh? But take it steady. I've waited a long time for this and now I want to enjoy you.' His tongue ran tiny circles down her ribcage, across her abdomen, tracing a wet trail towards her pants, his hands making her sigh with pleasure as he stroked the inside of her thigh. ‘I want to make you moan.'

She did, long and hard. And again as he ripped her pants aside, opened her legs and slid his fingers over her opening. Fierce heat almost engulfed her. ‘Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh—'

As she writhed against his hand a delicious ache deep inside began to swell, flushing her body in heat, a feeling she was losing herself to something beautiful, amazing. She needed more pressure, more heat...Losing herself. Losing...

Stop.

No.

Clear as day, the words rang loudly in her head.
Stop. Stop.

No!

She clutched the duvet in her fist. Shifted away from his hand.

Why? Why always this? Why couldn't it be different with Nathan? She
wanted
to submit to the pleasure he gave her. She
wanted
to be carried away on a tide of passion. She
wanted
to lose control.

But it was as if she were outside her body looking down on them on the bed, all feelings bolted in a flurry of panic. The surge from his touch cut, like a power outage.

He followed her up the bed, his hands still locked on her buttocks. ‘You okay?'

‘I...um...'

In the dim light she watched confusion flit across his face.
Yeah, you and me too.
He shifted next to her and stroked a knuckle down her cheek. ‘Did I tell you how beautiful you are?'

She nodded, curling into his hand, caught her bottom lip with her teeth. ‘Yes.'

‘Do you believe me?' He thought she was worried about how she looked? Just like all the other Hollywood women he usually slept with, no doubt. If only it were that simple. ‘You're so...real, Sash. Raw. Honest. The most beautiful woman I've ever met.'

Bringing her face to his, he dropped feather kisses along her swollen mouth, to her neck. Her eyes fluttered closed as she tried to relax into his arms again.

But she couldn't. After a moment of trying she put her hands on his shoulders and gave gentle pressure. ‘I'm sorry. I'm not ready for this.'

He smiled so tenderly it almost took her breath away. ‘What is it? What's wrong?' Then he hit his head with his palm, eyes wide. Was he covering up a
laugh
? ‘Tell me you're not still a virgin? Surely...'

‘No.' But she might as well be. A rash of heat bloomed in her core and spread out to her skin. How to say this? ‘I mean...there have been a couple of times. I never really...well, it didn't do much for me.'

‘Seriously, girl. You've been doing it with the wrong men.'

As if she didn't know that already.

But it wasn't really their fault. She'd been too wound up, too worried about whether she could do it, about giving herself up to someone else, each thrust had caused her pain and the more she'd tensed, the worse it had become. Until she'd given up trying.

‘It hurts, usually. I can't ever seem to relax properly. And I've never...you know...come.'

His laugh was soft. ‘But I think you almost did.'

‘That's the point exactly.
Almost
.'

‘You just need to go with the flow. Let yourself ride with it. Let go.'

‘Easy for you to say. You're so laid-back you're hardly holding on in the first place.' She wanted to hide her face in embarrassment. This was what she was, after twenty-seven years? She'd managed easy relationships with the kids at school and her friends, family—sure. She'd never given any more of herself than she needed, always kept something back. Intimacy scared her but not as much as trusting someone.

And with Nathan? The thought of giving herself over to someone so sexually experienced, and who instilled such fierce emotions in her, was terrifying.

No. Impossible.

And now he would leave and she was a big fat failure.

But instead of leaving he covered her with the duvet and spooned against her, his chest against her back. For a moment she thought he was going to try to sleep, as with two fingers he closed both her eyelids. He spoke in a soft voice as he cuddled against her. ‘It's okay. Let's take it really slow. Tell me, what do you want, Sasha? What do you like?'

‘I don't know. What do you mean?' She tried to sit up but he held her close.

‘Hey, it's just talking. That's all. You can do that.' He chuckled. ‘I don't want a checklist. I want you to tell me what turns you on. Close your eyes. Do you like it when I kiss you?'

‘Of course.' She closed her eyes again, sank into the pillows and thought about his kisses. They made her feel hot. So hot. Wanted. Sexy. ‘Yes.'

‘Tell me, then. Say it.'

‘I like it when you kiss me.'

‘Do you like my tongue in your mouth?'

‘Yes.' She swallowed, hard. Her mouth suddenly dry and wet at the same time.

‘Tell me more. Do you like it when I kiss your nipples?

‘Yes.' God, yes. ‘But I'm no good at this.'

‘It's not a test. Just say it. I like it when you kiss my nipples.'

‘I like it when you kiss...' She hardly recognised her own voice; it was thick and hoarse.

‘Kiss what?'

‘My nipples.' Her breasts ached and tingled for his hands, his mouth. All air seemed to have been sucked out of her lungs; she focused on breathing. In. Out.

She felt a gentle pressure against her hips as he began to rock against her. Just a little, but it sent skittering electricity through her. She pressed back against him, feeling his erection on her bottom. Wanting to touch it.

But he held her hand, kissed the soft underside of her wrist, leant his head against hers, whispering into her ear, ‘What else do you like, Sasha? Did you like it when I touched you?'

‘Oh. God. Yes.' Was it the sensation of his breath against her neck, or just thinking about his hands on her that made her shiver with anticipation?

‘I know you did. I liked it too.' But he didn't lower his head to her thighs as she thought he might. Hoped he might.

His fingers tiptoed to her outer thigh. Then her inner thigh. Stroking slowly. So slowly she thought she might explode if he didn't touch her. There. Her whole body screamed out for his touch. ‘Yes. There. Please, Nate. There.'

‘Not yet. Just wait.' He rocked. She rocked back against his thickness. If she shifted her leg...oh. She felt him pressing along the edge of her sex. A fug of desire filled her head.

‘What else do you like, Sasha?' Then his thumb found the spot. Sweet soft pressure that wasn't nearly enough to satisfy her.

‘I want...I want you to...' She couldn't think past his thumb circling and pressing, past the wild hunger swirling through her body. Through her head. She was losing herself.

‘What do you want?'

Losing...

‘What do you want?' His voice was louder now, focusing her on him. ‘Sasha. Tell me what you want.'

‘I want this.' Fierce need swelled up once again from deep inside, in a huge crescendo that she rode. Wave after wave of delicious peaks, each time bigger, better than the last. But still not enough...'I want this. I want...' Harder. Faster. Deeper. ‘Oh, God. Oh, God. I want you.'

* * *

Her fingers slipped round his erection and she turned to face him, steering him towards her, her breath coming in short gasps. Nate didn't know if he could hold on long enough to get the condom on. If she could hold on. She was so close to the edge.

‘Now, Nathan, please.'

‘I don't want to hurt you. Steady, wait.'

‘Now.
Please
.'

He quickly sheathed himself and pushed gently into her. Felt the stretch, the hesitation, the shock, but he kept up the pressure with his fingers, stroking and rubbing, until she relaxed. As she bucked against his hand he eased deeper into her heat.

For the first time ever he needed solid self-control. Didn't know if he could dredge it up. He had to get this right. For her. For himself. He had to show her what she'd been missing out on for so long. But watching her finally so close to the edge, unbuttoning that prim uptight exterior, feeling her nails rake against his back, had him alight with a raging fire.

Tight. Hot. Wet.

Slowly at first, until he couldn't hold back any more. He wanted to bury himself so deep inside her, deeper and deeper still.

And she met him stroke for stroke. Her legs inching up his thighs as she gripped and bucked against him. He found her mouth and kissed her greedily, taking every ounce of her that he could. She arched, her head thrown back, her gaze catching his, consuming him.

Until...

Until he thought he might lose himself completely in an arc of blinding pleasure, in the soft sound of her cries, in her sweet tightness as she finally let herself go and took him with her.

* * *

Twisting out of the tumble of sheets Sasha jolted upright and looked around her bedroom, then down at her bed.

Oh, double merry hell.
It hadn't been a dream at all.
A three-times-a-night kind of dream. A Best. Sex. Ever. Dream.

Next to her Nathan slept, his hair messed up, little laughter lines around his eyes. Butt naked, the cotton sheet strategically covering one of his best features, he looked like a model in a magazine shoot.

In her bed!

Her heart stuttered just to look at him. Even though she'd tried hard to prevent it she knew she was losing herself to him, little by little.

She hadn't known it was possible to soar so high, or how amazing sex could be when she finally let herself relax into it. To feel like a real woman. To feel wanted by a man like Nate. She'd grasped at an opportunity instead of planning the pros and cons. And there'd been a whole lot of pros.

But what on earth happened now? She hadn't planned for that either. Hadn't planned for the completeness of having him inside her and the emptiness of knowing he was going to leave. Or the stark fact that it was very unlikely that slipper-man, should he ever bother to rock on up, would be able to make her feel that absolute glow that Nathan had made her feel last night.

Torn between needing him gone so she could clear her head, and wanting to snuggle down next to him, she pulled on a robe and wandered through to the lounge, looking for some middle ground.

Facts were:

1) He lived in LA. She lived here.

2) His life involved chaos and extremes. She liked order.

3) He was a moment-by-moment type of guy. She planned everything to the nth degree.

Until last night, when she'd decided to be someone different.

But he wasn't her kind of man.

Which brought her to undeniable fact number four: he was unpredictable, volatile and untamed. Everything she hated; everything she avoided in a relationship.

And no amount of backward planning would extricate her from the world-shifting uncertainty hammering in her chest.

‘Sasha?' His sleep-filled voice made her jump and ramped up the jittery butterflies dancing in her stomach. ‘It's only six-thirty—the day hasn't started yet. What's going on?'

Every cell in her body craved his touch, heat surged through her veins, but she busied herself in the kitchenette, not knowing the rules for this kind of thing. But she bet it wasn't making a scene. She found him a smile. ‘There you are again with the behind thing.'

‘Sasha, this postage-stamp-sized apartment leaves little room for the element of surprise. I could probably have poked my head out of bed and you'd have seen me from here.' He leaned against the kitchen bench, half-zipped jeans slung on his hips—there was no way he could be wearing any underwear with them riding so low.

The thought of him commando, of what was under that denim, had her mouth watering and her body prickling with heat. The hard wall of his chest rippled as he moved. She remembered the feel of it under her fingertips, the slick press of it against her naked body.

The butterflies fluttered against her heart, sending ripples of a strange kind of pain in her chest.

She tucked her confusion away and quieted the darned insects. ‘Don't you have a plane to catch, Nate? Somewhere to be?'