The Chase (11 page)

“One.” Bending his head, his breath ruffles my hair. “Just one. And so long ago.”

Pulling away, I stand on my tiptoes and take his face in my hands. There’s something in his voice that breaks my heart, tears it right down the middle.

I want to make that pain go aw
ay, or at least make him forget. Unable to stretch up any higher, I pull at him, making him stoop until I can press my lips against his own.

God, but he’s an amazing kisser. He’s had a lot of practice
, I’m sure, and that I don’t mind, since it means he knows what the hell he’s doing. When he slants his lips over mine and cups the back of my neck in his hand possessively, I remember how he did the same to his bass player, the two dark heads pressing together, masculine hands exploring.

I wonder if he’s like that with everyone, giving his full attention to whoever he’s with. Making them feel special.

“Stop thinking.” Adam mutters against my lips, his hands sliding down to cup and squeeze my hips. He slides one finger beneath the string that crosses over my hip, just a tease, and I shudder.

“Do that again, and I won’t be able to think about anything.” No hesitation—he pinches the sides of my skimpy underpants an
d works them down, then back up. The movement pushes the triangle of fabric between my lower lips, so that when he next tugs, it pulls tight, right over my clit, and I cry out.

“You’re going to have to tell me.” Eyes pinned to me, absorbing my reactions, ever
y little shudder and sigh, Adam slides one hand to the front of my panties and one to the back. He works it back and forth, back and forth, and grins when I choke out his name. “Like that. That sexy little noise you just made makes me think I’ve found your clit. But a clit is a lot harder to locate than a cock, so maybe I should just check.”

He slides his hand between my legs, and my pulse thunders in my veins.
I want to be an active participant, but as my hands find his hard biceps, all I can do is hold on.

He slides his fingers through my labia, pressing through the slit in the panties as my eyes roll back in my head. He strokes through the moisture and heat, coming close to the centre of my pleasure
, searching for but never quite finding it, and I whimper.

“You have to tell me.” His words are rough, teasing. “I don’t know what I’m doing, remember?”

“The hell you don’t,” I mutter, eyeing the wicked grin on his face. To punish me for my attitude he slows his hand, and I swear.

“There. Just... ah!” When his fingers find that hard little nub I buck into his hand. I’m ready to go over just from this, from the way he’s watching me, so intent on bringing me pleasure.

I groan when he circles his finger over the swollen, slippery spot. He’s not entirely steady in his movements, but he is determined, and it feels better than any fumble fingered touch I’ve ever had down there before.

“You’re fucking gorgeous when you’re all worked up, kitten.”
He laughs again as, unable to stand any longer, my knees wobble and I collapse against his chest.

“Now let’s see if I can get this right. When I do this—” he circles just around the outside of my pleasure zone, and a light growl emits from my throat—“you get cranky. Because it’s not enough, am I right?”

I can’t respond with more than a jerky nod against his chest, my fingers clawing at the skin hard enough to leave marks. We’re generating an inferno, sealing our skin together with heat.

“So that must mean you like it more like this.” His thumb joins his forefinger and he catches my clit between them, rubbing in a way that makes me see stars.

Men—boys—have been able to work pleasure out of me before, but they’ve been weak, pale sensations compared to what is rioting through me right now. And maybe that’s because while Adam isn’t the most experienced at bringing a woman pleasure, he still wears his confidence like he wears his stage persona—he owns it.

The orgasm builds low in my belly, curling my toes. I’m scared to move, to even breathe for fear it will disappear, as it so often does. But then he pulls me to him and devours my lips, his hand crushed between my legs, and I’m gone.

I cry out my pleasure as I ride his hand. His fingers release my clit and one slides inside of me, passage eased by the surge of wetness between my legs, and I writhe on his finger until he adds a second one. I feel wide eyed and wild, but the glimpse I get of his face shows me that he’s completely into it, so I stop worrying and ride out the shudders.

When I come to, my face is buried between his arm and his chest, sweat gluing us together. I run a shaky hand through my hair,
pushing the tangled strands out of my face, sure that I must look like a disaster.

When I get up the guts to look him in the face—
I’ve never let go like that before—
I find him smiling smugly down at me.

I’d be annoyed, if he hadn’t just
owned
me.

“Your turn,” I whisper, sliding my hand down, then down some more. With far less confidence than he showed with me, I curl my fingers around his erection, which is begging to be freed from the confines of his leather pants.

And
goddamn
, but he’s big. Big and thick and hot and hard, and though I’ve never much cared for giving oral sex, or for the way boys are inclined to push your head down to give you the hint, my mouth absolutely waters with the need to taste.

“Carly.” Adam groans and thrusts forward into my hand. I swipe my thumb over the tip, grinning to myself when I feel moisture beading there.

“You were way too good at that. I’m not sure I believe that you haven’t done it before.” My voice is teasing as I pump my hand down his length, then bring it back up. I want to make him feel good about how much pleasure he gave me.

But my words seem to have the opposite effect. I can feel his entire body tense
, and not in a good way. I hesitate, losing confidence, but don’t still my hand.

At least, I don’t still it until he twines his fingers with my own and gently pulls my hands from his pants.

“What’s wrong?” Oh God. Maybe having my hands on him has shown him that he’s not really into me—into girls—after all. But the rigid length of flesh that’s still pressing into my abdomen, and the harsh groan he utters when I release him beg to differ.

He grabs my chin firmly, forces me to look at him. His insistence is hot. “Don’t you go doubting yourself. I want you. I want to run my mouth over every last inch of your skin, then bury myself inside of you like I’ve never done with a woman before.
I want to fuck you so hard that every time you move the next day, you remember who was inside of you, and why.”

Wow.
Well, when you put it that way...

“Then what’s wrong?” Tentatively I reach for him again, but he shakes his head. “I want to make you feel good, too. Let me.”

“I need to tell you something first.” Lips pressed together tightly, he opens his mouth to speak again, but seems to be distracted by the sight of my breasts.

I want him enough to play dirty,
so I bend over just a bit and wiggle. The globes of my breasts jiggle, and Adam bites out a curse.

“I need a fucking shower. A cold one.” Eyeing me suspiciously, as if I might jump him and make him like it, he stoops to pick up my fallen jeans and T-shirt. I could use a ch
ange of panties too, since the ones I’m wearing are now stretched and soaked, but they’ll have to do. “Get dressed. I’ll be right back.”

Without warning he peels off his leather pants, kicking them aside, and I’m treated to a second of glorious, full frontal nakedness. My mouth falls open an
d I think I might squeak a bit.

I want to worship that body with my mouth. Every last bit of it.

Clearly knowing just what I’m thinking, his lips twitch, like he’s holding back a smile, and then he strides off to the small dressing room bathroom. He leaves the door open as he turns on the water, and I take full advantage of my unfettered view of his hard, tight ass, bared to my sight.

“Get your eyes off my
ass and get dressed.” He calls to me before climbing into the shower. “I’ll just be a sec.” The lack of steam rolling out from the small room tells me that he’s true to his word and is dousing his desire under frigid water.
But why?

I’m dressed and perched on the worn couch, fingers twined together nervously, when he re-emerges, presumably to tell me
just that.

“
I need to tell you something,” he repeats, scrubbing a towel over his hair. Other than that towel, he’s still completely naked, and he’s standing close enough that I can see beads of water sliding over his skin. The shower seems to have cooled his arousal a bit, but seeing his cock at half mast just makes my fingers itch to make it fully hard again.

He doesn’t even seem to notice the effect he’s having on me, his brow furrowed in concentration.

“Can you maybe put some clothes on first?” My voice is a little faint. Adam looks down at his naked frame, and I’m rewarded with that ghost of a smile again.

“I like that I can distract you, kitten.” He doesn’t bother with clothes though, instead wrapping his towel around his waist and cinching it there. He rakes one hand through his damp hair, searching for words.

“I—” He’s cut off by the now-familiar knock on the door, accompanied by his phone buzzing.

“Amy?” I ask, feeling distance growing between us at the very sound of her name. No matter what just happened between us, we are two such very different people, him with his entourage, and me... the hooker.

He scowls at the door, and shakes his head. “Screw it. I’m not answering.”

Bang. Bang. Bang.
“Adam, I know you’re in there with her! It’s an emergency!”

Adam mutters a curse, then stalks across the tiny room, flinging the door open. He’s totally unselfconscious about the fact that he’s not wearing anything but a towel around his waist, but Amy’s mouth falls open... and she makes a sound not unlike my squeak.

I have a moment of almost-sympathy. Being confronted with that perfect body is a mind numbing experience.

Adam clears his throat; Amy recov
ers her composure. She looks from me to Adam and back to me, not able to hide the hint of disbelief that he is here, almost naked, with me.

“I’m not sure how you want to handle this...” she’s speaking to Adam, but her body language tells me this is about me.

“You can talk in front of Carly.” Adam’s voice is gruff, and he waves impatiently with his hands. “Just hurry up. We were in the middle of something.”

I watch as Amy once again looks Adam over, then takes in my flushed cheeks and tousled hair. Understanding of just what we had been in the middle of dawns, and if looks could kill, I’
d be six feet under, dug up, and buried again.

“Fine.” Amy adjusts the ever present Bluetooth headpiece at her ear. I wonder if she ever takes it off, even during sex.

“I looked up more of her background, like you asked.” She smirks at me, and I feel something cold trickle down my spine—I think it’s dread. Adam looks abashed for a moment as I glare at him, but then he lifts his chin, just a bit. I can just imagine the words he’s not saying.

I want you, kitten. But this is a whole new ball game for me.

Mollified, I tune back in, startling when I hear my mom’s name.

“It popped up while I was searching—Judy Daniels, age 64, admitted to
Greenwood County Hospital. It looked like she’d been beaten. Police think it has to do with a gambling debt. She’s unconscious, and authorities had no success getting hold of the daughter.”

“What?” I can feel the blood d
rain from my face. “Is she okay?”

Amy holds up a hand for me to stop. “They wouldn’t tell me anything when I called. But I’ve cleared out
the dressing room next door. The number’s already punched in on my phone here.” She smiles at me, and her obviously sympathetic smile seems a bit overdone, but still barely registers through my panic.

Mom is clearly in deeper trouble than I could ever have imagined. And here I am, halfway across the country seducing a rock star instead of earning money that could get her out of trouble.
She might not have been the best mom on the planet, but that doesn’t mean I don’t love her.

“I’ll go with you.” Adam turns, reaches for a pair of sweatpants that are lying neatly folded on a table full of bottles of water.

“No!” Adam and I both jump as Amy speaks far too loudly for the small room. “Sorry. But I think it’s best if Carly goes alone, Adam. If you go with her the cameras will just come out again.”

I watch as
a muscle in Adam’s jaw tenses; he’s grinding his teeth with clear frustration. “Fine.” His eyes meet my own. “Whatever you need, it’s yours.”

The reassurance melts a path through the panic that’s welling up inside of me. I nod my head jerkily, sliding my feet into the gaudy rhinestone flipflops that Amy bought me to go with my jeans and Maneater shirt. I hesitate, wanting to give Adam a light kiss or something to thank him, but I’m not sure if he’d appreciate that with Amy standing right here.