Rock Your Heart Out (Sinful Serenade #3) (22 page)

"You've never left anyone alone in your life," Miles says.

"Shut up and pay Willow." Tom shifts back in his seat, spreading his legs, inviting me between them.

If only we didn't have this damn audience.

"Congrats." Miles hands me the stack of cash and nods to Drew. "You know what his problem is?"

"I have a guess," I say.

"You three ever mind your own business?" Drew pulls a ring box out of his pocket and stares at it with a blissful sigh.

Eyes go wide with enthusiasm. The mood mellows into a series of
good lucks
. After I issue mine, I turn my attention to Tom. There's something in his eyes. I can't place it. He catches me staring and motions to his jeans. To his phone. He pulls it out and taps something.

Oh, he's texting me. I pull my phone out of my purse as inconspicuously as possible.

Tom: How was your afternoon?

Willow: Busy doing edits for Hazel. She's a taskmaster. You?

Tom: Busy thinking about what I'm going to do to you when I get you alone. Still dying to spread your legs and taste you.

My cheeks flush. I check for an audience. Nothing. Miles and Pete are swarming Drew with attention. My brother is the color of a tomato.

There's a buzzing in Tom's hands. His eyes flash with mischief. He must think it's from me. That or he's sexting some other woman. The mental image makes my stomach clench.

"Fuck." He dials a number and holds the phone to his ear. "How long... Can you get it down to three hours? Okay... Don't apologize. Shit happens... I'll figure something out." He hangs up the phone but keeps his eyes and fingers on the screen. "The flight is delayed. Could be four hours or eight."

Drew's eyes flash with concern. "I'm not missing Kara's graduation."

"I know." Tom taps his screen with concentration. "There's two tickets on the red eye but they're both in coach."

"Get the fucking tickets," Drew growls.

Tom looks to Miles. "You too?"

Miles nods.

A few more taps and the crisis is averted. Damn, that's fast. Tom really has his shit together. He gives Miles and Drew a series of instructions. They'll take the limo. We'll give the chartered flight two hours to nail down a departure time. If it stays indefinitely delayed, there's a flight with empty seats leaving at the crack of dawn tomorrow. We should arrive in time for the last half of Kara's graduation party.

The limo pulls over on a side street to drop us off. I get out first. Drew grabs Tom on his way out and whispers something in his ear.

Tom shakes his head. Drew must be getting overprotective.

Tom slides out of his car and nods goodbye to Drew. "I wouldn't expect any less from you." His fingertips brush against the back of my hand on their way to his pockets.

Drew looks at me. "Call if you have any issues."

I nod. "Good luck. I hope she says
yes
."

Drew groans and slinks back into his seat, his brows screwed with concern.

"Fuck, kid, that was harsh." Tom nudges me. "The man is already in pieces over this."

"I was trying to be encouraging."

The limo pulls away.

Pete waits until it's a dot on the horizon to address Tom. "You know what you're risking here?"

"Yeah," Tom says.

The brothers share a knowing look. I'm out of the loop again. I guess being family has its perks.

"I have something to take care of. Text me when you know the flight details and I'll meet you at the airport." Pete looks me in the eyes. "He really last twenty minutes?"

I'm sure my expression gives everything away.

Pete laughs. "Good for you." He nods goodbye then turns and leaves.

"Is that going to be a problem?" I ask.

"Nah. He doesn't even talk to me." Tom slides his arm around my waist. "Come on. I have plans for what I want to do with you."

"With me or to me?"

"First one, then the other."

***

T
om is kneeling at my feet. It's a beautiful sight, close to perfection. Only we're both fully dressed and we're surrounded by a dozen families. I'm having dirty thoughts at a roller rink. I need to get a grip.

This place is the antithesis of sexy. Disco blares from the speakers. Multi-colored string lights flicker on and off. Hell, half the people here are dressed in bell-bottoms.

Yet, my thoughts stay in delicious places.

Tom ties my left skate tight. His fingers skim my exposed calf. I thank whatever inspired me to wear a skirt. Jeans would make it much harder for him to touch my bare skin.

Tom looks up at me with mischief in his eyes. He slides his fingers up the inside of my leg, over the hem of my skirt, and back down my right leg. He takes his time lacing my right skate then he pushes himself to his feet. Well, to his skates.

He's balanced perfectly.

"When did you learn to roller skate?" I ask.

He takes my hands and pulls me to my feet. "I'll tell you after you get around the rink twice."

"My balance isn't that hopeless."

"Good." He brushes his lips against my ear. "I'd love to distract you."

"You're a naughty boy."

He cups my ass as he slides his arm around my waist. "You like it."

"No comment."

"Come on. I don't want to miss the end of
Staying Alive
. My disco moves are legendary."

With one hand attached to mine, Tom skate-steps backwards to the entrance of the roller rink. He's totally effortless.

I take careful steps. I gave up my attempts to rollerblade when we moved to San Francisco. The hills made the once fun activity terrifying. I was always wobbly.

The floor of the rink is some squishy rubber thing. I'll be okay if I fall. I won't get hurt.

Taking steps is easy. Gliding is not. I squeeze Tom's hand for balance but I'm still wobbly.

Tom skates circles around me. The show-off has skills. He's damn cute with his skinny jeans tucked into retro skates.

"I won't let you fall." He sets his hands on my waist with a light touch. "Trust me."

He's talking about skating, I know, but the words cut all the way to my soul. I do trust him. It's a good thing because he's already got a vice grip on my heart.

Left leg first. I pick up my foot and try my best to slide as I place it back on the rink. That buys me about two inches. I try with my right foot. Three inches this time. I can do this. I go faster.

Faster.

Shit. My foot goes down wrong. My ankle doesn't twist. It can't. The skates are so tight that my entire leg twists. Only I don't fall face first.

Tom catches me without missing a step.

He squeezes tight. "You okay?"

I nod.

"Then hop to it, kid."

"Hopping is out of the question."

"Glide to it." He shifts backwards to give me enough room to skate.

Okay. I can glide to it. My movements start cautious. Each time, I move a little faster, glide a little farther. I get halfway around the rink before I trip. This time, I regain my balance. Well, with Tom's help.

He presses his lips to my neck. "Not sure I'll be able to distract you much at this rate."

"You're very distracting."

"This is nothing." He brings his hand to my shoulder and slides it over the neckline of my blouse.

I grab onto the edge of the rink so I'll have some chance of keeping my balance. "What is that?"

"A one."

"What's a ten look like?"

"That will get us arrested." He cups my breast over my top. "You're not wearing a bra."

I nod.

"That's naughty, teasing me like that." His thumb brushes over my nipple, pressing the fabric of my top against the bud. "I'm going to have to tease you back."

"Please do."

"Fuck, do I love the way you say that." Tom nips at my earlobe.

He rubs his thumb over me. Just once and he brings his hand back to my hips. Pangs of desire shoot to my sex. My body cries out for more. Now.

Okay, no playing nice. I try to shift my ass against his crotch but the roller-skates make it difficult. Words will have to get me there. "Please."

"Mmm." He moves closer, kisses his way up my neck and over my ear. "This is a four."

"You have a real mouth on you, Mr. Steele."

"Not yet, kid. That will take us all the way up to an eight." He shifts, bringing our bodies to a roller rink appropriate distance.

"I've never... no one has ever done that to me."

He lets out a low groan. He brings his mouth to my ear. "It's like this. Only—" He slides one hand under my skirt and presses his palm against me.

My sex clenches with anticipation.

The warmth of his breath sends shivers down my spine. He sucks on my earlobe. Gently. Then harder. Then he's scraping his teeth against it. His tongue slides over the outside of my ear. Then just inside its first curve.

Holy shit. That's going to be intense.

Tom brings his hand back to my waist. He shows my other ear the same attention. Then his lips are on my neck, sucking and nibbling and kissing with that same perfect finesse. When he finally releases me, I'm panting.

This is a family place. I can't jump his bones right here. No matter how badly my body is begging me to unzip his jeans.

Skating. I am skating. I am not fucking Tom in public in front of forty or fifty witnesses.

I pick up my foot. Place it down. I'm more stomping than skating. With my next step, I glide. The motion is smooth. Like how seamlessly our bodies fit together—

Shit. I stumble, landing on my hands and knees. It's not too bad.

Tom kneels next to me. He smiles and brushes my hair away from my eyes. "What happened to your concentration?"

"This guy who likes to torture me by getting me all worked up and making me wait."

"He sounds hot."

"Pretty hot."

"Pretty?" Tom helps me to my feet.

"Incredibly hot." I look into his eyes. "But he's far too aware of it."

"Vanity is one of the worst traits a person can have."

I laugh. "Besides arrogance?"

"Of course." He slides his arms around my waist. "Is he nosy too?"

"Very."

"Why is it that you put up with him?"

I press my hand against Tom's stomach. "I'm using him for his body."

"I'm sure he understands, being that obsessed with his appearance." Tom smiles.

I press my lips into his. He pulls me closer, kissing back with intensity and warmth. This is one hell of a good time, but it's also more.

His feelings pour into me. They're everything.

He pulls back and plants a kiss on my forehead. "At this rate, we're going to miss the flight."

"Is there any word on that?"

"Don't pretend like you aren't aware of everything that happens in my jeans."

"Mr. Steele, I'm not sure what you're referring to. A lady never gawks." I take a few skate-steps.

"No word yet." He places his hands on my hips, guiding me. "As soon as I hear, I'll book us a limo to the airport."

"A limo?"

He nods. "I'd explain, but it's at least a three."

Warmth fills my belly as I laugh. It's easy being with Tom. Like nothing else in the world can hurt me.

I roll my shoulders to loosen my muscles. "Okay, Master Roller Skater, let's do this."

"Let's do this, what?"

"Please."

He groans.

***

W
e spend the better part of an hour making slow laps around the rink. By the sixth or seventh, I can skate without his hands on my hips or my hand on the railing. Tom tries and fails to teach me how to spin. I fall on my ass over and over again. Between the squishy floor and the way his eyes light up as my legs spread, it's hard to complain.

One more try. I hold onto his hand and attempt to twirl. No go. My left leg trips over my right. Again, I fall. This time, I land in Tom's arms.

He adjusts my balance. "You this willing to try new things when you're naked?"

"I'm not usually willing to try things."

"Why not?"

"Too much risk of getting hurt."

"What's different?"

"You." I press my body against his. "I want to do everything with you. Sexually or otherwise."

"You're stroking my ego pretty hard, kid."

A laugh escapes my lips. "I love when you call me that."

"You asked me to stop."

"Because you hurt me, Tom, running without an explanation. I didn't want a term of endearment if you were going to turn off your affection at the drop of a hat."

"It wasn't anything about you. It's me... Nobody has ever cared about me."

I stare back at Tom. "There are probably a thousand girls in love with you."

"With my stage persona, sure. Who wouldn't love that guy? He's rich, cocky, talented as fuck. Hot as hell. But that's not me. Not all of me."

"I care about you."

"Now."

"Why would I stop?"

He looks away. "You'll get tired of me. Realize I'm not that playful guy who can show you the world. That I've got my own shit to deal with."

I shake my head. "You're already showing me the world."

I stare deeply into Tom's gorgeous green eyes. There's a sadness in them. But of course there is. He's still waiting to hear if his mom is going to live or die.

"How did you get so good at skating?" I ask.

"Ophelia was in a roller derby league. She always took me and Pete to her practices. Eventually, I got tired of sitting by myself and I learned to skate."

"Him too?"

Tom nods. "Not as good as I am, of course."

"Of course."

I follow him to the rink exit. "Does she still do roller derby?"

He shakes his head. "She had to stop a while back..." His eyes cloud. "Never picked it back up."

"When she was sick?"

Tom nods. He squeezes my hand. "Life is gonna intrude on this soon enough." He leans in close enough to whisper. "Right now, I don't want to think about anything besides how good you taste."

The sounds that escape my lips are in no way words.

"Heard this amazing idea about breaking into the manager's office and getting on my knees."

I. Uh. It's really fucking hot in here. I nod. "Okay."