Played (Elite PR) (5 page)

Tell me about it.

“Do I need to remind you that one of those nights was all you, honey?” He took a seat in the leather chair across from her, willing himself not to think about the panties that fell from her purse during their first meeting.

“Right.” She nodded. “But you didn’t help matters that morning.”

“And I am sorry about that,” he lied, trying to focus on his distraught neighbor’s problems instead of her impossibly plump lips. Christ, he shifted in his seat before his thoughts became obvious to Melody as well.

“It doesn’t matter now.” She sniffled in between sips of her coffee.

“What do you mean?” he asked, not following her train of thought in the least.

“We’re no longer neighbors.” Her eyes were wide, glossed over slightly, and damn if she didn’t tug on his heartstrings…and other areas as well. Areas he’d agreed to ignore when he opened his door to her. “So you can play your music or move your furniture whenever you want.”

“But what if I’d rather scrap with you?” He was surprised just how much he enjoyed that little adrenalin rush the past few mornings. Truth was, he’d already been looking forward to their next run-in. “So tell me what happened and maybe we can fix it.”

Melody stared at him for the longest time before her guarded gaze seemed to warm. “I was late on rent again,” she finally admitted. “I guess Cole decided enough was enough. Thing is, I would’ve had it to him in a few weeks, but I guess it’s too late.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to talk to him?” he pushed. “Try to work something out?” He couldn’t understand it for the life of him, but he didn’t want to see her leave.

She shook her head.

“What about the guy?” He felt irritation in his throat, but surely the guy keeping her up until all hours of the night would help. Then again, the asshole hadn’t even seen her inside safely. Still, he had to ask. “The panties-in-the-purse guy? I can give you a ride to his place if you want.”

“No, my situation is hopeless,” she said, not giving anything else away. She just chewed on her lip, making it increasingly difficult for him to concentrate. “But there
is
something you could do to help.”

“Anything,” he blurted before he even heard what she had to say.

“Really?” she asked, hopeful, and heck if he wasn’t thrilled to put that look there. But then why did he have the sinking feeling that he just bought himself a world of trouble?

T
he hell-on-heels spitfire he’d grown so fond of in the past few days had dissolved into a sad and lonely character that could’ve been in one of his songs. Her mischievous eyes were now red and puffy and there was no more swivel in that glorious step. She was careful and timid as she walked into the room, and that made him feel things he didn’t want to name.

Of course, the old Aaron would’ve had that naughty belle on top of him riding reverse cowgirl before they even exchanged names—whether she was devastated or not—because he knew it would do them both a world of good. But he was no longer that guy. Didn’t want to be. Though somebody needed to inform his dick, which liked the old Aaron, thank you very much, and was saddled up and ready to go.

Even though Melody was a few drinks past tipsy, she didn’t look at all comfortable when she asked if she could crash at his place until morning. With tear-stained cheeks and a broken voice, she spoke so quiet he had a hard time hearing her. When he did, it about killed him. He had the feeling she’d never asked anyone for a favor before.

It was Melody’s lucky day because the new Aaron was all about second chances and he wasted no time agreeing to let her stay in the guest room. Alone. He also spent the better part of an hour listening to her story. She told him about her ex, who never really treated her like anything more than arm candy, his own personal trophy. Hell, Aaron hated hearing about him so much, he was tempted to go to Sweetwater and give him a homecoming he’d never forget. Then there was her boss, who sounded like a real ball-buster, and her best friend who’d moved hours away. He retained it all, even as his eyes took in each and every tempting inch of her body.

“What about you, Aaron Major?” she asked, testing the bed in the spare room. He hated where his mind went at seeing her there. On a bed. At his place. More than that, he hated the people who extinguished her fire and left her in such a state. He much preferred the girl outside, kicking in cab doors. “Ever have such an epically shitty day? Or year? Or three years?” She laughed, but it was hollow…fake, and it make his gut ache.

Hell yes, he’d been there before. The fact that it was his own doing, or mostly his own doing, didn’t lessen the painful memory. He wouldn’t wish it on anyone. So if he could help her find a way out of this shitty-ass situation, even if only for a night, he was determined to do just that.

“You’d be surprised.” He bent over and helped her with her shoes before folding back the covers for her. The room was set up for Graham, who wouldn’t be staying with him until the holidays, but Aaron never felt settled until he had a place ready for his teenage brother. He wondered if he would’ve been so inclined to offer Melody a place to stay if he didn’t have the extra space. Saving damsels in distress wasn’t exactly his typical M.O.

“Surprised by what?” she prodded, when he didn’t finish answering her question.

“I’ve actually had several shitty years, if you must know.” He grabbed a pillow and began smacking it in an effort to fluff it for her. Why? He didn’t have a goddamn clue. It was something he remembered his dad doing before he tucked him in at night. But from the look on her face, he was using more force than he needed to.

“What’d that pillow ever do to you?” She pulled it out of his hands.

“Just trying to make you comfortable, I guess.” He leaned against the wall, suddenly itchy without something to do. His instincts had him aching to take care of what ailed her, the good ol’ fashioned way. Still, there was a stronger need to see her safe. To protect her. He was tucking her into bed for Christ sakes. In the spare room!

“I really appreciate all this, you know,” she said, settling into the bed. “And if I was around when you were having your shitty years, I would’ve done the same.”

No, you wouldn’t have, honey.

He hated to even think about the people who stuck around for him during those dark days. He would never put anyone through that again, which was why he vowed to avoid distractions, namely relationships. Poor Graham was stuck with him, but he could avoid bringing anyone else into the freak show that was the music business.

“Here.” He threw Mel a T-shirt to change into. “You can sleep in this.” Then he left the room to retrieve aspirin and a tall glass of water…and to calm his frayed nerves. He hadn’t been around a woman like Mel in a long time, and she made him jittery.

When he returned, jitters were the least of his worries. Tucked into the bed, looking small and lost amid the pillows and blankets, with her hair fanned out around her face, Mel turned her lips in a sad smile that nearly did him in. It was even worse than the tears she shed earlier. He had the nagging urge to slide in next to her and hold her until she fell asleep, which was completely out of the question, so he sat beside her on the edge of the bed and extended the glass instead.

She took it, draining every drop, though she insisted she was no longer drunk.

“I feel like hell,” she said then, turning on her side and reaching out for his hand.

Her sweet gesture hit him in all the wrong places—primarily his heart. Yet when he took her offering, the contact sent his mind back into the gutter. Her hand was soft and small in his grip, her skin so friggin’ hot to the touch. “What do you want me to do?” He stroked her cheek with his other hand, unwilling to let go.

What the hell was happening here?

“Make me feel better?” she beseeched him.

That was easier said than done. He doubted she had any idea how deeply her innocent request affected him. No sir. ’Cause if he’d learned anything from the blubbering coffee cup confessional out on the living room sofa, it was that Miss Melody Sharp had never quite recovered from the way her ex had treated her. And she definitely didn’t see herself clearly, or understand just how fucking appealing she was. That asshole put that doubt there.

“Darlin’, I’m no good at offering advice or saying the right thing. Really, there are only two things I can do to make a woman feel better.”

“Two is better than most. Pick one?” Her blue eyes pleaded, and he had the strangest desire to please her.

Of course, his go-to in times like these involved getting horizontal—or vertical, he wasn’t picky. His dick pulsed behind his zipper, clearly voting for option number one, which was exactly why his brain opted for go-to number two.

He went into the other room and brought back his guitar, always his fall back. He could do this for her, no problem, get lost in the music for a spell, and maybe she’d drift off to sleep.

He went back to his post at the edge of the bed and began playing his new song for her—the album single. Her eyes went wide when he sang the first note, low and soft. The song was about new beginnings and second-chances and shit the country music industry had lived on forever. But it was also about crossroads. It was about where he was in his life—where, he realized, Mel was too. Sure, she might have defeat in her eyes, but there was still a fire. She wasn’t going down without a fight. He admired that. Even more, he admired how she looked in his T-shirt. He swallowed, realizing he could just make out the tips of her nipples under the cotton, and he cursed himself for it. All the while, he kept playing.

She closed her eyes as the rhythm of the strings filled the room. He plucked them for her, turning his head to his guitar as he went into another song. By the time he hit the third one, he was sure she’d fallen asleep.

He rose slowly, not wanting to jostle her, and crossed the smooth wood floor. As he reached for the door, she said, “Now what about that second thing you do…”

Chapter Five

A
aron stopped dead in his tracks, taking a sharp inhale, before turning around. That was good. It meant he wasn’t beyond convincing.

Mel lifted to her elbows—a move that made the huge V-neck T-shirt that Aaron gave her slip off her shoulder. Well, she was good and screwed now, so what the hell? She decided to go for it. Because she suspected that
other thing
he could do to make a woman feel good had nothing to do with his guitar. He so willingly gave her the first, but could she convince him to give her the second? Judging by his expression as moved to face her, it wouldn’t be a difficult task. She ached to know just how skilled those fingers of his were.

Her first shot at a hookup may have been a bust, but for reasons she couldn’t explain, she wanted to try again. Not just because she was down and out, or because she hadn’t been touched in a millennium. It was this particular man she wanted, as crazy at that sounded.

He’d been so patient with her as she told him her sob story, why she’d come to Atlanta. The tequila buzz helped make her comfortable enough to share, but he was also a really good listener. And now that she had pretty much everything taken from her, she also had no fear left to hold her back.

Things had been financially tight since her boss put her on probation, and the pay cut made rent all but impossible. Still, Mel never thought her landlord would completely cut her off. Of course, all she had to do to get rid of her money problems was to call her daddy. But that would mean she’d lived up to those low expectations he had of her. He never thought she was cut out to be a
working gal
. No, that role was for her sister—the smart one. Mel was his pretty girl, and he wanted her at home in Sweetwater where he could marry her off to a suitable man who would take care of her. Heck, he really wanted her at home, ready and waiting, when Teddy decided to make his way back.

Looked like he was going to get his wish.

So Mel had to make the most of every second she had left. She was going back home, plain and simple, but she was going out with a bang. And she meant that quite literally. From the second she heard Aaron’s voice, something sparked inside her. And once she got a good look at him, her body came alive. Forget Scarlett, it was Mel who “should be kissed, and often, by someone who knew how.” She was certain Aaron Major knew how.

It was in his smoky eyes, the timbre of his voice, the cool, assured way he carried himself. This cowboy knew his way around music, and with a body like his, she was confident he knew his way around a woman, too. He was just so…so sexy. Especially standing there in the dark, torn about what to do. At least, she hoped he was torn.

“Baby, you don’t want to know about that,” he purred, which only made her want to know more. Though, despite her limited experience, she had a pretty good idea.

“I think I do.” She let the sheet drop in a very Scarlett-like move. The V-neck of his T-shirt draped lower. His reaction was audible, and the sound shot right between her legs.

“I don’t think that’s a smart idea,” he said, shaking his head. “Aren’t you involved with someone? I understand if you don’t want to crash there or call him this late, but damn, I’m really trying to do the right thing here.” He set his guitar up against the wall and took a step forward, deliberately locking his eyes on hers. Still, she saw them dip a few times.

“I’m not involved with anyone,” she told him. “And what you thought you saw that morning we first met? Not what you think. Nothing happened. Turns out I can’t even have a one-night stand without screwing it up.” Suddenly, she wanted this so badly that she was having a hard time staying under those covers at all. She squeezed her thighs together in an effort to soothe the ache between them. He ignited something in her that demanded his attention, and she was willing to beg if she had to.

“I truly doubt that, darlin’.” He sat on the bed again, considering her. He smelled like cedar and vanilla, maybe from the guitar. She didn’t know, didn’t care. She just wanted to get closer to his scent. To that tanned, muscular column of his neck, the strong line of his jaw. He was raw and rugged perfection, and she wanted to touch him. He leaned in, his full lips opened slightly, which had her mindlessly nibbling on her own. And though his hair was still pulled back, rogue strands escaped and fell around his face. She reached up to toy with one of them, rubbing the silky wisp between her fingers.

“I’m trying to change, Melody,” he said as he took her hand, tracing tiny circles on the inside of her wrist before allowing a single finger to travel up her arm. “I used to be the kind of guy who took what he wanted, when he wanted it. That guy would’ve had you inside his apartment and bent over his sofa that very first time he saw you, and he wouldn’t have cared if you had just been with another man or not.”

Those words should’ve been crude to her, but they weren’t. They made her body tingle and her core throb with need. There was a part of her that wished he had tried something with her that first time. Or the second. Was that crazy? Absolutely. But all reason went out the window where this man was concerned.

This time, she wouldn’t let the opportunity slip through her grasp. She owed herself that much. Yes, it was risky. She didn’t even know the man, or what he did for a living. But wasn’t that the excitement of a one-night stand? Wasn’t it time she was a little restless? Plus, she knew first-hand how strict Cole was about his tenants. There was no way Aaron would be here if he had any sort of record.

She’d taken inventory of the place: no photos of a wife, a girlfriend, or a kid. He didn’t have a ring finger tan line, and he definitely didn’t put off the creeper vibe.

Jesus, Mel. Just stop thinking for once in your life.

Not so easy to do when the cowboy stroked his finger along her scorching skin. And once that lonely finger reached the base of her neck, she couldn’t take it any longer. With a quick breath, she gripped his palm and placed it over her heart, which had a wild rhythm of its own playing in her chest.

He groaned, and it only encouraged her.

Beat.

She led his hand to where the neckline of the shirt dipped in a deep V, exposing several inches of her bare flesh. Hot damn, it was thrilling. For all her talk, she had never directed a man before. Never.

Beat. Beat.

She moved their fingers to the edge of the soft fabric…beat…before coaxing him inside the thin cotton barrier. But once their hands snaked under her shirt, he took over. She leaned into his touch, never taking her eyes off him. The shirt gaped further, allowing him free rein. Mmm, she was right about his skills.

He lay down beside her and met her anxious, lustful stare as he caressed her breasts, lavishing his undivided attention on one and then the other, teasing her aching nipples to hardened peaks. “You bring back all those feelings, Mel. You make me remember what it’s like to be consumed and out of control, and I can’t go back to that.”

“I’ll be gone by tomorrow,” she reminded him. “And this will only be a memory. You don’t have to worry.” She wiggled closer, trying to find some friction to ease the mounting pressure at her center.

He noticed and pushed his taut thigh between her legs. The contact felt so good, her head fell back as she took in the pleasure. “I can take care of that ache, honey. I don’t think I can take you in the way you want, but I can give you relief.”

Reaching his other hand under the bed sheet, he groaned again when he found her damp panties. “Let me take care of you,” he said, as every fiber in her body screamed yes, yes, yes.

She reached for him, but he shifted and pinned her arms down by her sides before she made contact.

“This is all for you,” he said. “Only you. And I’m going to get you off so fast and hard, you’ll be thinking about it on your wedding day.”

And there went the throbbing again.

She should’ve been appalled or disgusted…or had
some
kind of sickened reaction to his dirty talk. Who was
he
to speak to her in that way? This should feel wrong. It
was
wrong. Yet his words had quite the opposite effect, which freaked her out a little, if she was being honest. All she could think was: more please.

“But where should I start?” he asked, pulling the sheet the rest of the way off her body. “I have so much to work with here.”

Aaron lifted the hem of the shirt, inching it over her sensitive skin, little by little, until the undersides of her breast were exposed. “God, I fucking love this,” he said. “The slope of your breasts, so soft and creamy. Christ, you’re gorgeous, Melody.”

She wanted him to lift the fabric higher. She wanted the warm air to kiss her nipples. She wanted him to look at her. All of her. She pushed her chest out slightly, unable to stop herself.

He responded the way she wanted, moving the shirt.

Higher…

Higher…

Until he pulled it over her head, and she was completely revealed to him.

“For the past two nights, this is all I’ve been able to think about.” He tossed the shirt on the floor and moved closer to her, and when he sighed, the heat of his breath teased her tight peaks. “Ever since those little panties fell out of your purse, I’ve wanted to put my hands on you.”

Melody arched her back as those rough hands took what they wanted. He was confident is his every move as he explored her body, and it was so off-the-charts hot, she had to turn her head away from his gaze. She was all but panting by this point and didn’t want him to see, but he wouldn’t have it. He tipped her face back to his, concerned with her every reaction. He studied her, gauging each response.

It made her feel so incredibly…wanted.

Sure, she’d known her effect on men. A pretty girl in pageants, at her father’s side, or on Teddy’s arm. But she was only a decoration. And though she was once again exposed and on display, this was different. She couldn’t put it into words, though. Didn’t want to. She simply was going to enjoy every morsel of pleasure this cowboy was offering.

She felt a lift on the mattress and then his breath on her chest again. Her nipples tightened even further, if that was possible.

“Christ,” he mumbled before he took his first taste. He sucked her tight bud into his mouth, warm and wet and sublime. Mel saw stars, and her head started to spin. She reached out for him, wanting to hold on, but he locked her hands again. He tasted her for a second time and growled, “This isn’t going to work.”

She began to protest, but he simply put a finger to her lips. He leaned over the bed and reached for something on the floor. Mel prayed it was a condom. But when he pulled himself upright, it wasn’t a foil packet in his hand. It was the T-shirt.

He flashed an evil little grin and went to work on her hands, somehow banding both her wrists together above her head

The control she always possessed dissolved. She was in his care, trusting him to give her what she needed. But how she wanted to touch him and do her own exploring. She wanted to strip him of his flannel, release that wild mane and let her hands feast on him.

“I’d like to touch you.” Her words synced with the images in her head, though she hadn’t signaled her mouth to say them. It was like a dream—she was partially there, partially on some other plane. Being tied up and in his complete control left her deliciously unstable and out of sorts.

“Let me?” she begged.

A
fter Aaron hit it big for the first time, he had women lining up out the door to service him. They didn’t know him. He didn’t know them. He never saw—or really thought about—them again. And he knew that made him an asshole.

It wouldn’t be that way with Melody. He wouldn’t be likely to forget her anytime soon—he was sure of it. He’d give her one last memory before she moved back to her small town to get married and start popping out babies.

Oh, he could definitely do that.

What he couldn’t do was let her touch
him
.

If that happened, all bets were off. He couldn’t remember the last time a woman affected him this way. Jesus, he’d been hard for two days just watching her, listening to her voice, imagining what she was doing behind her closed door. It was messing with his head, and he didn’t want her squirming her way in any deeper.

He put the kibosh on her request. “I will be the only one doing the touching tonight.”

Then he went on to pepper her chest with feather-light kisses. She was so fucking soft, so perfect. But it was her scent that really did him in. Spicy. Exotic. It didn’t match her prim exterior. Then again, neither did her mouth. She’d win against him in a cursing contest, hands down.

Why did he like that so much? Maybe because few people surprised him anymore.

And for that reason, he would allow himself this one thing. Slowly, quietly, he descended on her mouth. So close her breath got lost in his scruff. He knew he’d be regretting that later. For now, he indulged…and nipped at her plump lip. Her mouth had taunted him since the first time he got a good look at her. He imagined she’d taste like a ripe peach. She was sweeter. He could do this, just this, all night and never tire of it.

Aaron pulled her to him and Mel opened her mouth in invitation. He accepted and delved in, stroking his tongue over hers, again and again, until he coaxed the softest moans from her lips.

Her eyes closed, and delicate hands fisted in the restraints as he continued his exploration and changed the playful kiss to something decidedly slower, deeper, before pulling away to look at her again.

But she didn’t like that. “More,” she cried.

Fuck.

He descended again. But this time, it was Mel who attacked. She took her own nip of his lower lip, a move that sent shock waves to his dick. He couldn’t help himself as he pushed into her.

Shit, he could so easily lose himself in this wild, complicated, stubborn girl. He wanted to, but he wasn’t about to go back on his word. He needed to finish this…and fast.

“You’re going to like this,” he said as he snuck his hands down her naughty black panties. He expected her to be wet—he knew that from his test touch—but he wasn’t prepared for her to be drenched. Or burning up. Or completely bare. He palmed that hot, smooth skin and bit his tongue to stifle a moan. This was for her. He would do this to prove a point. He’d changed. This time it was going to be different.