He was a traditional guy; the idea of a woman paying didn’t sit well with him. Even if this little lady was well on her way to achieving the kind of fame and fortune most people only dream about. He slipped into the bathroom before the server pushed the cart into the room. Leaning against the closed door, he drew a deep breath. There was no way he was going to be able to resist her. He wanted her, needed her, in his bed tonight. He knew it was wrong; his brother and her father would ream him out tomorrow for taking advantage of her, but his moral compass must have been broken because he didn’t give a damn what anyone thought. He was going to satisfy the craving that had been quietly simmering since he first laid eyes on her five long years ago.
After slipping into the white terry robe hanging on the back of the door, he tightened the belt around his waist. He braced his hands on the counter and leaned into the mirror, staring at his reflection. He kept waiting to hear that inner voice chastising him for even considering what he was about to do, but when a beat of silence passed, he let himself off the hook. To hell with the consequences. She may be too damn young for him, but she was old enough to know what she wanted, and if she wanted him, who was he to be her voice of morality? He opened the door and stepped out into the room.
She was sitting on the end of the bed, one leg tucked under her as she dipped a large strawberry into a bowl of fresh cream.
He suppressed a groan when a drop of cream slid down the front of her chest, slipping into her cleavage. He had no idea whether it was intentional, but the urge to lick it off was damn near irresistible.
She smiled, looking up at him. “Oops, I’m so messy sometimes.” It was definitely intentional. She slowly slid her index finger through the cream and inserted it into her mouth, licking it clean.
He drew the robe tighter when the evidence of his arousal began to tent the heavy fabric. “You coulda used a napkin, sugar.”
“That wouldn’t have been any fun, now would it?” Her eyes darkened when she dipped another finger into the bowl. “Wanna taste?”
He grabbed her hand and slid the slim digit into his mouth. Closing his eyes, he savored the sweet cream. “Mmm, that’s delicious.” He watched her eyes drift closed, her chest rising and falling with each shallow breath.
“Me or the cream?” she whispered, licking her lips.
“Both.” He had already bolted past all of the flashing warning signs in his head and was barreling, full speed ahead, into a restricted zone. “You sure you wanna do this, sweetness?”
She nodded, reaching for the tie on his robe. “Positive.”
He nodded sharply, holding her wrists firmly in his hands. “We gotta have some ground rules first.”
Her eyes held his. “I’m listening.”
“No expectations. This is a one-time deal.” That voice inside his head chose now to shout out, mocking him. As if once would ever be enough to satisfy his craving for this woman.
“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
He raised an eyebrow, surprised by her response. He expected her to be as resistant as every other woman when he set out his terms. “Really?”
She shrugged. “Sure, I’m busy with my career.” She offered a teasing smile as she propped her hands on the bed behind her to support her weight. “Besides, I don’t wanna be tied down to just one man.” She winked. “Well, maybe for a few hours.”
He had the sneaking suspicion that little Miss Spencer wasn’t as innocent as she would have everyone believe, and that pissed him off. “Are you sleeping with anyone else right now?”
She frowned, digging her heels into the bed as she slid back on the mattress. “What’s it to you?”
He had never cared enough to ask that question before, and her evasiveness aggravated him even more. “If you’re sharing my bed, you’re not gonna be sleeping with anyone else.”
She laughed. “That shouldn’t be a problem, since this is a one-night stand, remember?” She sighed when he didn’t respond. “I can tell you I haven’t slept with anyone else tonight, and if you’re as good as I think you will be, I won’t need to.”
One-night stand, was he crazy? One night would never be enough to get his fill of her. Yet regular sex had a tendency to blur the line between casual sex and a relationship, and he wasn’t willing to sacrifice his freedom, no matter how hot she was between the sheets.
He gripped the headboard above her head and propped a knee on the mattress, leaning into her. She smelled musky and sweet, a heady combination. “You’re trying to provoke me, darlin’. That’s a big mistake.”
She raised a perfectly arched brow, a slight smile tipping her full lips. “I don’t like to play safe. I like my men the same way I like my ride, rough and dangerous.”
His mind flashed to a magazine image of her on a custom chopper. He assumed it was a prop, but maybe he’d underestimated her penchant for danger. Could it be she was woman enough to take a walk on the wild side with him after all? “You ride motorcycles?”
“Fast bikes, fast cars, fast men… let’s just say speed is like an aphrodisiac for me.”
He smirked. “Honey, if you think speed is an asset in the sack, you’ve been with the wrong men.”
She shook her head, denying his claim. “I’ve had some amazing lovers. Men that turn me inside out.”
A streak of red-hot jealousy shot through him, rendering him temporarily speechless. “What do they do to turn you on?” he hissed.
She grinned. “It’s a secret. Let’s just say you’ll know when and if you’ve reached the promised land.”
He recognized a challenge when he heard one. By the time she left his room, he would have set the new standard by which she judged her future lovers. His gut clenched when he thought about her receiving pleasure at the hands of another man. “Lie down,” he whispered, his voice hoarse.
“Let’s get this party started.”
Nikki could tell by the dangerous gleam in his eyes that her prodding had unleashed a beast, and she couldn’t wait to experience his wrath. She gripped the frayed hem of her tank top, pulling it up just enough to reveal a few inches of smooth bronze skin. Looking good and taking care of her body was part of her job, and she took it seriously. Her personal trainer, Jake, was as ferocious in the gym as he was in bed, and it showed in every muscle she’d sweated to earn.
She slid her shorts down just enough to reveal a colorful floral tattoo with a bird and banner that read “Siren” in fancy script.
He raised an eyebrow at the sight of the colorful ink. “Nice. Got any others?”
She grinned. “I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.”
He chuckled, sliding the robe down to the tie at his waist.
Her breath caught in her throat at the sight of all that mouth-watering bronze skin. The man was huge… tall, with absurdly broad shoulders and bulging muscles. He wasn’t ripped like Jake, but his sheer size made him more threatening. Given her slight stature, it made her question whether he was too much man for her, not that she wasn’t up for the challenge.
He turned around to reveal a black and white portrait of a woman on his shoulder.
“It’s beautiful,” she whispered, reaching up to run her fingertips over the soft image.
“My mother,” he said quietly.
“Are you a mama’s boy, cowboy?” It surprised her, given his reputation with women, that he would hold his mother in such high regard.
He turned to face her, frowning. “Why does it surprise you that I’m close with my mama?”
“Players don’t usually respect women; that includes their mamas.”
He eased down on the foot of the bed, his eyes boring into her. “You’ve got it all wrong, baby. I love everything about women. Their sweetness, softness, the way they smell and taste…”
A shudder moved through her at the picture he painted; the deep timbre of his voice warmed her as he conveyed his message.
“I won’t make love to a woman unless I like and respect her.”
She couldn’t tear her eyes away from his as she asked, “You don’t even know me. How do you know I meet your high standards?”
“I know you’re talented, hard-working, ambitious, all qualities that I admire in a woman.”
He definitely had her number. She smiled. “Go on.”
“I know you’ve worked twice as hard as the other artists on your old man’s label.”
She raised an eyebrow, surprised at his insight. “How would you know that?”
“My brother talks about you. He likes you a lot, respects you as a musician, and as a friend. That’s good enough for me.”
She smiled, pleased that Ty thought as highly of her as she did of him. He was one of the good guys: honest, reliable, hardworking, salt of the earth. Something told her that’s where the similarities between the McCall brothers ended. Ty was the easy-going, fun-loving artist the world had fallen in love with, while his brother was clearly the bad boy, intensely focused on his goals. Right now, she seemed to be the target he intended to conquer, and she couldn’t wait to have all of his attention centered on giving her pleasure. “I can’t wait to go out on tour with your brother. It’s gonna be a blast.”
His dark eyebrows drew together, creasing his forehead. “He’s invited me along, when I’m not competing. Maybe I’ll have to take him up on it.”
She shifted under his intense scrutiny. “Why would you wanna do that?”
“To keep an eye on you, sugar.”
Uneasiness settled over her. She was drawn to J.T. because she believed he wanted to satisfy their mutual lust and get on with their lives. She didn’t need or want a warden to monitor her every move. Her father already had that covered. “I don’t think that would be a good idea.”
He leaned in, bracing his hands on either side of her thighs. “Why’s that?”
She swallowed, trying to coat her dry throat. “I like being free to do what I want, with whomever I want. Having you there would be… awkward.”
His light blue eyes darkened. “What’re you saying? You’d rather screw around with a different guy in every city?”
She refused to be bullied by a guy who just moments ago had told her their “affair” was to be a one-time deal. He had no right to pass judgement on her when he was engaging in similar behavior. “What I intend to do on the road is none of your business.”
He leaned in, stunning her with a kiss that stole her breath. It was an erotic mating of the tongues that had them both battling for supremacy. Moaning into his mouth, she tried to pull him down on top of her. She was tired of talking; she was more than ready for a little action.
He held back, bracing his arm on the mattress to hold her at arm’s length. “You’re pissing me off, girl.”
Angered by the label she’d fought to rise above, she pushed against the steel wall of his chest. “Yeah, well you’re not the only one who’s getting pissed, cowboy. Get out of my way so I can find a real man. Someone who’ll give me what I need tonight.”
He grabbed her wrists, bracing her hands above her head. “Not gonna happen, baby.”
“I’m tired of playing games with you. Look, I’m not gonna deny you’re hotter than hell, but if I go down to that bar right now, there’ll be dozens of guys more than happy to help me take the edge off. Sex with you isn’t worth the hassle.”
“Are you serious?” he hissed. “You think I’m gonna let you find someone else right now?”
“It’s not like you have a choice.”
She was making him crazy. The thought of her leaving his bed to go to someone else’s was driving him to the edge. And he had no doubt this little spitfire would make good on her threat. Her public persona, the sweet innocent girl crooning about heartbreak and loss, was a far cry from the tattooed, motorcycle-riding little hellion who was turning his world upside down. His sister-in-law, Avery, must be the brilliant publicist everyone claimed if she was the mastermind behind this farce.
“Take your clothes off,” he murmured. “Right now.”
She grinned. “Finally, we’re getting somewhere.” She leaned forward, dragging the tank top over her head and tossing it on the floor. She made quick work of shedding the cotton shorts, lying before him completely bare and exposed.