NicenEasy (14 page)

“Can I think about it?”

“Let me know before the L.A. concert, then we can make
plans. Okay? I’ll work this end to meet his agent, do a little networking.”
Schmoozing.

“As I say, I’ll consider it. Thanks, Duane.”

“Have a good time. See you when you get back.”

“Sure.” They hung up.

She needed to find Donovan now.

Walking to the main living area, she paused to listen to the
music drifting past the closed doors. Beautiful and ethereal, even more so
because she couldn’t see the people making the music. Then someone swore and a
burst of raucous laughter followed. It didn’t entirely break the spell though.
The strains of something she couldn’t quite catch remained.

The door opened to show Jace Beauchene. It was like running
into a hurricane, and Allie duly lost her breath, just as she had the first
time she’d met him. She slapped a hand to her chest, like the heroine of a
historical novel whose laces were tied too tight.

Close up, Jace was even more gorgeous than in pictures and
videos. Since he was one of the band who sometimes performed topless, she knew
all about his dragon, the tattoo that started on one biceps and went right
around and down his back, the tail disappearing somewhere below his low-riding
jeans. Only a privileged few knew where that tail ended, and right now, only
one person got to see it on a regular basis.

He stared at her, she stared back, and he drew her in. She
thought she’d gotten used to charisma now that she spent the night with someone
who possessed it in spades. Apparently not. “Hi,” he said. She watched him
switch on the charm and wondered whether he knew he was doing it.

“Hi. I was looking for Donovan.”

He ran a hand through his thick, dark hair, pushing it back
from his face. “Now’s a good time, actually. I’m going to get a different
guitar from my room. Don’t keep him long though.” He grinned. “I wouldn’t be
saying that if Beverley wasn’t busy with Chick’s shit.”

“Your shit, actually.” A crisp voice sounded down the
hallway and Allie caught the change in Jace’s expression before he turned
around to face the woman he undoubtedly loved. She wanted someone to look at
her like that. And then, someone did.

Donovan smiled at her and her world lit up. He glowed at
her, and what could she do but glow back? Ignoring everything else, she walked
forward into arms she knew would be waiting for her. They closed around her and
she lifted her face for his kiss.

Perfect. He took her with all the gentleness and power she
could ever wish for, and she gave it back to him. As one kiss flowed into
another, nothing mattered except them and what would happen next.

They didn’t need any words to know what would happen next.

Fire burned through every pore, swept through her in an
instant flash of heat. She wasn’t sure which of them led the way, but they
arrived in their suite and Donovan shot the bolt across the top of the door.
“Fuck the keycard,” he said. “Oh fuck, how do you do this to me?”

“Ditto,” she managed. The bedroom seemed so far away. But he
didn’t. She wanted skin to skin, needed it, needed him. She tore off her
T-shirt, unclipped the bra she didn’t know why she’d bothered with. He stripped
off his top and then they were back, holding each other, warmth combining with
warmth. As her hardening nipples met his chest, she moaned and moved, rubbing
them against the smooth, packed muscle.

“You taste so good,” he murmured. “Did you like meeting Jace
up close?”

“Hmmm.” She went on tiptoe for another kiss. “He’s pretty
sexy, you know?”

And in that instant, they slipped into their private games.
“You want him?” Donovan stared down at her, hunger written large in his eyes.

“Only if you’re there,” she whispered, her voice suddenly
gone. The thought of it, Donovan and Jace sharing her, turned her wild.

“I’ll be there all the way, every time.” His voice had
turned rough. “Turn around.”

Without waiting for her to obey, he spun her around and
grabbed her breasts, kneading and squeezing them. “Would he do this?” He bent
so his mouth was level with her ear. “I think he would. I’d let him do it, let
him touch you, hold you. Jace likes it rough sometimes. I’ve seen him, just
like he’s seen me.”

“With a woman? Did you share?”

“Fuck, yes. If I share, I do it with Jace most.”

She believed him. In the past, in their wilder days, they’d
have done that.

“When I finish with someone, I pass her on to Jace. We
relay, first one does her, then the other, so she’s kept in a constant state of
arousal all night. You’d like that, hmmm?”

She gasped and leaned back against his chest as he fondled
her breasts. He slid one hand down her stomach to her hips and flipped open the
button at the top of her jeans. The zipper followed in short order. “Off,” he
said. “You want the dogs to see the rabbit, don’t you?”

As she stepped out of the jeans and her underwear, she
caught sight of a movement and she deliberately turned to face the
three-quarter length mirror by the door, presumably placed there for
last-minute checks. It would serve a different purpose now, and her pussy dampened
as she thought it. Without him telling her to, she widened her stance, opened
her legs so they could both see everything. Her clit peeked through her lower
lips, reddened and as erect as his cock. The cock he pressed into her back as
he stepped forward to reclaim her, as naked as she now. His larger body
outlined hers, enveloped her. She drank in the sight, committed it to memory.
“I’m not going anywhere,” he murmured, as if answering her constant feeling
that this couldn’t possibly last.

Her hair brushed against his skin when she moved and he
gasped. She did it again, stroking him with her hair. He growled, low in his
throat, then grasped her breasts again, dragging her close. “Bend over.”

He released her so she could. “Touch the floor.”

She widened her legs even more, barely refraining from
begging for him. She heard the rip of a pack, and then he returned to her and
rubbed his cock against one of her buttocks. “Want this?”

Curving a hand around her waist, he held her steady and he
pushed in, that slight resistance when his flared cock head passed her entrance
making her cry out. It felt so fucking good. “Donovan, oh shit, oh fuck!”

“Yes, just like that,” he said. “Now look up.”

She could see everything except their legs. Her breasts, his
hand on her stomach, his cock buried inside her. He withdrew and she gasped,
waiting for him to power back in. When he did, she rocked forward, then back.

“Jace is underneath us, lying on the floor, watching
everything,” he growled. His voice vibrated against her skin.

Her arousal rocketed. She stared into the mirror, watching
him fucking her, letting him guide her in this fantasy. She wet her lips. “He
wants me,” she whispered.

“You bet. How could he not? But he’s gonna have to wait
until I’ve done with you. It won’t take long. Then he can have you. He’s
touching you now, can you feel it?”

She could. Someone’s fingers at her clit, sliding down the
crease, caressing where they joined. He curled a finger up inside her, stuffing
her even more full. “He wants you so bad,” Donovan said. “He’s touching you,
feeling you, sharing what I’m doing to you. And the door’s open. They can see
you. All the people I’ve invited to watch you, to see how perfect you are. You
feel that?”

“Yes, oh yes!” Deep inside, she thrilled to his words. Even
more the knowledge that he’d never share her, that they could play this game as
much as they liked.

“Jace has a tattoo.”

“I know.”

He chuckled. “Of course you do. You’re a fan. But you don’t
know where it ends, do you? Not many people do. You can find out if you look
down.”

So tempting, but if she did, she’d see nothing but bare
carpet. “A man has to have some mystery.”

He laughed, briefly, because he hadn’t stopped thrusting
inside her. He removed his finger when he withdrew his cock and then paused. “I
thought a woman was the one with the mystery.”

“Not always.” He drove in, so hard she thought he’d touch
the heart of her. Moving his hand, he slid to the front of her pussy and found
her clit. He tweaked and thrust and she yelled his name. “Mystery or not, we’re
giving him a show he won’t forget. Feel him touch you?”

Tweaking her clit mercilessly, he powered in and out of her
body. Beyond words now, she cried his name repeatedly and he put his other hand
around her waist, held her steady as he brought them both higher, then higher
still.

Calling her name, he pulsed inside her. But for the sheath,
he’d have soaked her, added to her drenched pussy. Helplessly she called out
and came, so deep, so hard, she doubted her ability to stand when he’d
finished.

Not that she needed to, because he withdrew, lifted her in
his arms and headed for the shower.

“I can’t wait until you see him again,” he said as he turned
the lever that sent water pounding onto them both. “Part of it is watching you
when you meet them.”

“You’re a sadistic bastard,” she murmured fondly. She found
the small bottle of body shampoo the hotel provided and turned around, nuzzling
his chest. “But it’s not them, it’s the fantasy them. Probably makes no sense
to you, but it works for me. When I met you, you were like that, a fantasy come
to life. That’s how I thought of you, a night of fantasy, something to keep me
going over the next few months. But the real Donovan overwhelmed the fantasy
Donovan. You’re just so much better.”

“I never fantasized about you before I met you, but now I
have, my dreams are saturated with you.”

“Oh.” She caught her breath and lifted her chin, blinking up
at his face. She could hardly open her eyes against the spray until he leaned
in to kiss her, then she closed her eyes anyway to savor the caress. He didn’t
pull all the way back, so she could open her eyes when the kiss was done, only
to sink into his pearl-gray gaze. “You’re very talented.” She made a purring
sound low in her throat and drew her fingernails down his chest. Not enough to
leave a permanent mark, but she loved the red trail she left. Marking him,
however temporarily.

“You are more than talented.” He stole another kiss. “I need
to go back to work on a new song. Want to come?”

“I thought you didn’t let anyone in to songwriting
sessions.”

“Some people. If the guys want you to leave, then you’ll
have to go. It can get intense. But you can handle it and I want you with me. I
don’t want you to go.”

She reached up to cup his cheek, felt the prickle of
stubble. “I’m not going anywhere. Not yet.”

He laughed. “We’re going to talk about that some more too.”

Although she’d thought their re-entry into the living room
might prove a tad embarrassing, the band barely acknowledged that Donovan had
taken longer than he’d planned. Probably because Jace was later than they were.
He arrived five minutes after they did, dressed in a black pair of jeans,
instead of the blue he’d had on earlier.

Donovan winked at her and took a spare seat. The band had
turned the once regimentally clean and carefully arranged great room into a
tangle of cables, expensive instruments and panels, strewn with empty coffee
cups and plates. They ate while they worked and conversation flowed. Allie sat
at the table with her laptop, working on the latest round of edits for one of
her authors. While she’d lost Carl, her star author, she still had others she
cared about and wanted at least not to leave them hanging if she resigned from
Casterbridge. And Duane had promised her more if she stayed with the company.
Was it dependent on her bringing in Donovan, or would she get the job anyway?
She had no idea, but if it was the former, she wasn’t interested.

While the band of her dreams created a new sound for a new
song, she worried. Not the way she’d thought this would happen. Donovan sat
close and occasionally looked up, met her gaze and smiled, sharing friendship
and more. She invariably smiled back, but outside the privacy of their suite,
her concerns crowded back in.

Eventually she gave up on the edits and just kept her laptop
open but watched the band.

Now she understood why they all took writing credits.
Donovan’s claim to be “only the bass player” didn’t hold up here. Matt had
left, gone to view the venue V said, and Beverley was busy “arranging shit”
according to Jace, who told them with a gleam in his eye that said she’d done
more arranging of him. They accepted Allie’s presence with an ease that humbled
her, but she suspected they’d forgotten she was there when they started to work
in earnest.

They played the instrument nearest to them, not necessarily
the one they used onstage, and they worked totally together. Zazz might have
come up with the lyrics, maybe also the basic melody, but they wove and played
and switched tempo, even used time scales not usually known outside avant-garde
jazz, but it worked. It so worked. Even in this rough state, she could tell
they were creating something beautiful and worthwhile, something that would
bring pleasure to a lot of people.

The central sentiment of the song formed their taking-off
point, and however clever they got with sounds and switches, they never forgot
what the song was about. They’d drop something that sounded great but didn’t
work to serve the meaning in a nanosecond. Riffs and echoes that other bands
might have pounced on were dropped unceremoniously. Allie wondered if they’d
come back in other places, but the way they worked was so fluid, she didn’t
know if it would ever sound the same way twice.

It made her wonder what she was doing with her life. Editing
had been a childhood dream, but perhaps she’d really been chasing something
else. Something akin to, but not quite. Nancy was poisonous, that was true, but
she’d met plenty of fun, knowledgeable and enthusiastic people in the
publishing industry too. But Allie didn’t think she fit well, or she’d have
handled the whole situation with Carl better. Had the courage to call her
boss’s boss and explain her problem as soon as she realized what Nancy wanted
her to do. If she hadn’t felt so unsure of herself, she might have done just
that. Should have.