A Little Night Music (29 page)

Somehow, he was standing in front of her, his eyes searching hers. His hair was spiked with sweat, his vest hanging open over his hard chest. A droplet of moisture ran down his breastbone.

“That was beautiful,” Hannah managed. Her heart was pounding so hard she thought he might be able to use it as the bass line on the song.

“It’s yours,” he said softly, looking at her with an intensity that stole her breath. “You gave me back my music.”

He put his hand on her waist to guide her to one side. A roadie hustled by, coiling cords. Nate’s hand lingered, burning through the fabric of her shirt.

Hannah tried to remain professional. But somehow the song’s lyrics had slipped past her guard. That, and the words he’d just spoken. He credited her with helping him find his way past his writing block.

Still, she had come here to do her job. She had to remember that.

“Say something,” he said.

“I’m glad you’re writing again,” she tried, and immediately felt guilty. It wasn’t what he wanted to hear, she could tell by the disappointment that shadowed his eyes. She couldn’t bear it. “Did you mean it?” she asked. “What you said in the song?”

“Every damn word of it,” he said softly. “You
are
all I need. Not the fame or fortune. Just you.”

“But your career,” she protested. “People will say—”

He kissed her, effectively cutting off the words. Oh god, how she’d missed the feel of his lips on her. She felt like she’d been drowning and he was the air she needed. One hand cradled her head; the other stroked down her spine, urging her closer until she was pressed against him. Nate teased her bottom lip with his tongue, and she opened her mouth on a moan. She felt the velvet thrust of his tongue against hers all the way to her clit.

One last kiss. Just one. And then she would have the strength to pull away. Sliding her hands beneath his vest, she curled her arms around him. He was warm, his muscles hard beneath her questing fingers, his skin slick with sweat. She held him tight, trying to memorize his feel, his taste.

From some dim, faraway place, she could hear applause. It yanked her back to reality.

“Nate,” she said, breathing his name against the temptation of his mouth.

He rested his forehead against hers. “I’ve missed you. Being without you is not the way I want to live.”

She’d missed him, too, but she had to say goodbye. It was unfairly cruel that she had to say it again, but it had to be done.

But before she could tell him, he responded to her earlier protest.

“I don’t give a damn about what people will say or think,” Nate said. “The only people whose opinions matter all seem to think we should be together.”

That was the applause. Hannah looked over Nate’s shoulder to see Gina grinning like an idiot. Andre clutched his hands to his chest, practically swooning. Sam gave her a quick thumbs-up, his nod telling her he approved before he turned to bark orders at the roadie breaking down the drum kit.

“I’m not good for your career,” she protested. She was going to kill her friends later. Maybe. Or maybe she’d thank them. She was rapidly losing track of how she should be feeling, what she should be thinking. Her resolve crumbled around the edges because she couldn’t remember why she was supposed to be resolved.

“Sweetheart, you set my career back on the path to the top,” Nate told her. “You did something truly amazing and impressive. But I’d walk away from all of it if that’s what it took to be with you.”

She stared at him, shocked. “You can’t do that!”

“Coming through!” The warning was followed by a crew member wheeling a crate-laden dolly.

Muttering a low curse, Nate grabbed her hand and wove his way through the backstage disorder. She followed, trying to assimilate everything he’d been saying. He’d give up his music for her? That was crazy talk.

But it was sweet, too. And a small ember of hope flared a little brighter in her chest.

Nate tried the handles of a series of doors, finally finding one that was unlocked. He pulled her inside, simultaneously flipping a light switch. It was a storage room, stacked high with boxes and chairs. There was no lock on the door, so he grabbed a chair and wedged it up under the knob.

“We can’t be back here,” Hannah said. “There’s a roomful of people waiting to see you!”

“If they want to see me, they’ll wait. You’re more important.”

He filled the small room with his scent, his presence. When he backed her up against the wall, Hannah couldn’t help but respond to the hard pressure of his body against hers. She touched his cheek, stroking the lean planes of his face. When she traced the sensual curve of his bottom lip, he caught her hand in his. His tongue curled around her fingertip before drawing the digit into his hot mouth. She felt an answering rush of moisture between her thighs.

“I love you, Hannah,” he said softly. “And I have no intention of letting you walk away from me.”

He loved her? Really? Something cracked inside of her, thawing in the warmth.

“I don’t have to be at the top of the charts to know that I’m successful,” he said. “Sure, being there is fun, but it’s the music that matters. I’d lost the music, and you gave it back to me. I’ve done everything you’ve wanted me to do to get back to the top, but unless you’re there with me, it doesn’t mean a damn thing.”

“Wait a minute,” she said. “Everything
I’ve
wanted?”

“Giving you up, taking Marta to the Paradise Club, posing for pretty pictures.”

“I thought that’s what
you
wanted. You hired me to put you at the top of the charts, to generate buzz about your comeback. Positive buzz, not—”

“I just want to play music, Hannah,” Nate said. “My music and my performance should be enough for people. As long as the fans are happy, my career will be fine. If the media doesn’t like me, or me with you, then screw em.”

He leaned close enough to brush his lips along her jaw. Warm breath tickled her hair. The sensation was maddening. Her eyes closed, her head resting against the wall. His teeth grazed her skin, his tongue soothing the spot. The throbbing between her legs intensified and she rocked her hips against his. He laughed, a low growly sound, and rocked back. The hard length of his erection pressed against her, a clear, erotic sign that he wanted her just as much as she wanted him.

“Tell me you love me,” he whispered.

She opened her eyes to meet his gaze. The blue-black of his eyes drew her in, and she knew that no matter what happened, she didn’t want to be apart from this man. “I love you, Nathaniel Fox.”

The quick triumph that flashed in his eyes, the cocky grin that curved his mouth, she could forgive all of that, because he kissed her with an utterly focused possession that drove everything else from her mind.

They’d only been apart for a week, and yet she felt as though they hadn’t touched for years. The desire was as strong as the first time they’d had sex, back in his house in San Francisco. She couldn’t get enough of the taste of him, the feel of his mouth on hers and his hands roaming restlessly over her body.

This was no time for drawn-out pleasure, for languid stroking and teasing, for romantic foreplay and slow joining. She wanted him. He wanted her.

Now.

Desperate for skin-against-skin contact, Hannah pulled her shirt from her waistband, wriggling the material up along her torso. Nate’s hands immediately went to her ribcage, skimming along her, his calloused fingers digging into the muscles in her back. He pulled back from their kiss just long enough for her to pull the shirt over her head and toss it away. Then he was kissing her breathless again.

He worked his hands between them to take her pouting nipples between his fingers, rubbing the lace of her bra against her tender flesh.

“Jesus, Nate,” she gasped, her knees almost buckling as the sensations shot through her. She reached behind her and gripped the shelf she was leaning against. A plastic bottle of cleanser tumbled to the floor.

He tugged the cups of her bra down. Her full breasts spilled out of the lace. He bent to capture one nipple in his mouth. The first slow suck had her throwing her head back, crying out. Nibbling her with his teeth, he slid his hands down her sides. Capturing the hem of her skirt, Nate tugged it up, pulling it over her hips. His fingers grazed against her damp thong, and she shuddered.

“So hot,” he murmured. “So wet.” He raised his head and kissed her again. “So intoxicating. Intriguing…”

She fumbled with the lacing of his leather pants. The knot caught, tied twice to keep an avid fan from reaching up and pulling it free. Her curse made Nate laugh, but didn’t stop him from pulling her thong aside and slipping one long finger into her folds.

“That’s not helping,” she ground out, riding his hand as he slipped a second finger into her. Heat spread inside, weakening her limbs. His thumb nudged her clit. Hannah gritted her teeth, determined not to come until he was buried deep inside of her.

But he knew exactly what he was doing, and each little bump of his finger against her notched the pleasure higher and higher.

Finally, her plucking fingers released the damned laces, and she slipped her hand into the leather pants. He was gloriously bare beneath, and she was gratified to hear him groan when she pulled his erection free. He didn’t give her any time to stroke or play, however. He spun her around, tugged her panties down. She kicked them off one foot and grabbed hold of the shelves, praying they were bolted to something solid.

Looking back over her shoulder, she saw that Nate had stopped just to look at her. Her long legs were spread, her feet still in the stiletto heels. She wiggled her hips, doing a slow bump and grind. His eyes were riveted on her ass. She reached back, gave herself a light slap on one cheek.

“Fuck me, Nate!”

The low growl that came from his throat made her wiggle her ass again.

Nate nudged the head of his cock against her slick opening. She felt him separating her, teasing. She tried to push back, to take him inside, but strong, calloused fingers held her hips tight. His tongue traced her spine, his teeth lightly biting the back of her shoulder.

“I love you, Hannah,” he said, his breath hot against her cheek. He reached around and stroked along her needy clit. She was suddenly at the edge. “I want you. I need you.” He nipped at her ear and whispered, “Come for me.”

She wanted to tell him again that she loved him, but words were impossible as she succumbed to her orgasmic convulsions. “Nate!”

She was still shuddering through her climax when he drove into her, coaxing her up and over a second crest. Clinging desperately to the shelf, she pushed her hips backwards to meet his strokes. Her inner muscles clenched down hard on his erection, urging him to join her.

A flurry of thrusts, and then he groaned her name when he reached his release.

Nate rested his cheek against her shoulder, arms wrapped tightly around her. She could feel his heart beating, matching her own pounding pulse. Hannah relished the feeling, the sense of belonging and homecoming.

When she could move again, she turned around, seeking his mouth in a long slow kiss.

“As much as I want to stay here with you,” he said finally, “I don’t want to keep you from your job.”

“
Our
job,” she said. She gave him a playful pat on his butt. Such a cute butt. She was feeling awfully possessive of it right now. “We both have to go out there and shmooze those music execs.”

He pulled her against him and kissed her hard. “Thanks to you, I’ll have some new songs for them to produce in a few months.”

He handed her the lace thong she’d kicked across the floor, held her shirt while she shrugged into it. He stroked his fingers through her hair, straightening the waves that tumbled down her back.

Every touch told her how much he cared.

They opened the storeroom door.

Sam, Andre, and Gina waited for them across the hall.

“Are you two finished talking things through?” Gina asked. She didn’t move her hands, but the air quotes were clear in her tone.

Hannah cleared her throat. “We’ve definitely come to an agreement,” she said. A quick glance at Nate showed her that he was grinning, the joy so apparent in his eyes.

“Good,” Sam said. “Now, don’t you have some work to do?”

Andre simply fluttered his hands. Hannah noticed, however, that as they walked away, he tilted his head to check out Nate’s ass. She caught his eye, saw the query there. She nodded. Yep, leather pants meant no underwear. Andre rolled his eyes in delight, falling into step behind them.

Nate would wow the record execs. Offers would be forthcoming. She’d done her job and she’d continue to do it.

But this time, she wouldn’t give a damn what the rest of the world thought.

The fans wanted them together. The FoxFanatics poll had proven that.

More importantly, Nate wanted them together. It was what they both wanted, and needed.

She opened the door to the meet-and-greet, her fingers firmly twined with Nate’s.

They would fly together in the future.

*

In Her Hands
Sneak Preview

CHAPTER ONE

Sarabeth licked her lips in anticipation as she gazed at the male perfection that awaited her.

She slipped an Evanescence CD into the stereo and cranked the volume. The pulse-pounding beat wasn’t the only thing that made her hips twitch as she walked to where he stood.

Waiting for her.

She was in complete control. It was a heady, empowering feeling. She could touch him in any way she wanted.

But she teased herself, putting off the first contact. Instead she walked slowly around him. She’d molded each faint bump of his spine already, cupped her hands around those taut cheeks. Teased the dimples that cut into his hips. Traced the juncture where buttocks met thigh.

She walked back around to face him. God, he was beautiful. Her hands trembled, ever so slightly, when she reached up and rested them on his firm chest. Smooth, and faintly cool. He would heat up soon enough under her touch.