“And this.” His left hand slipped down to cup her sex, his middle finger sliding through
her folds while his bent index finger circled round her clit.
Heat licked through her, made her knees tremble and her skin ache with sensitivity.
Again she started to turn in to him, and again he stopped her with his ragingly possessive
hold.
“Look,” he urged, his voice somehow, impossibly, deeper than before.
And she did, for the first time seeing shades of what he was talking about. She didn’t
look beautiful standing there, but she did look hot, sexy. Her hair was tousled, her
eyes heavy-lidded with desire. Between his spread fingers, she could see her nipple,
dark red and hard with need. Her legs were spread, her hips moving sensuously against
his hand as he teased her toward yet another orgasm.
“Do you see?” His voice was pure gravel now.
She nodded against his chest. Her voice had deserted her.
“Say it. Tell me you understand.”
“I see.” Each word was a razor blade slicing the inside of her dry, tight throat.
“I understand.”
“Thank God.” He turned her around, sank to his knees. “Keep watching,” he urged as
he spread her legs and licked his way through her already drenched folds. He nodded
to the second mirror, which was directly across from the one she was now leaning against.
“Ryder,” she gasped, her hands clutching at his shoulders in an attempt to keep her
already unsteady legs from buckling completely.
He must have heard the desperation in her voice, because he braced his hands on her
hips and lifted her onto the vanity. Then he brought her feet up to rest inches from
her ass, urging her to let her knees fall open even as he did so. She was wide open
to him now, completely vulnerable, and if she hadn’t trusted him so completely she
never could have born it.
But she did trust him. How could she not when he had already brought her such incredible
pleasure?
He chose that moment to pull her clit into his mouth and suck gently. Her head fell
back on a moan, her eyes closing because she didn’t have the strength to keep them
open for one more second.
But Ryder was having none of it. “Look,” he told her again, and she did, forcing her
eyes open despite the near-blinding pleasure.
It was the most shockingly intimate thing she had ever done, but she didn’t stop him.
And she didn’t look away. Instead, she watched him going down on her. Watched him
taking her with his hands and lips and tongue. Her own hands clutched at his shoulders
and hair, her hips arching into his mouth as her need for release grew more and more
desperate.
“Ryder!” It was a high-pitched, keening cry as he licked her to the most intense,
most overwhelming, orgasm of her life.
“I’ve got you, baby,” he whispered as he thrust two fingers inside of her at just
the right angle to prolong her climax. “I’ve got you.”
And though she knew it was stupid—and very probably emotionally disastrous—she let
herself believe him. And slid deeply, irrevocably into love.
Chapter Seventeen
Something had changed. Ryder didn’t know what it was, but somehow, in the middle of
the most intense sex of his life, something had shifted deep inside of him. And frankly
it scared the shit out of him.
He wanted Jamison. Wanted her for himself in a way he hadn’t wanted anything in a
very long time. Or, more accurately, in a way he hadn’t let himself want anything.
Not since Carrie.
If he was honest with himself, that was what terrified him. Not the fact that he felt
something for the first time in a very long time. But the fact that Jamison did as
well. Oh, she could talk a good game about no strings fun and taking care of herself,
but he’d seen the way she looked at him earlier. Had recognized it, because he knew
he had the same damn look on his own face.
He didn’t want to hurt her, didn’t want anything from the crazy, fucked up life he
led to leak over onto her. He hadn’t been worried about that with Carrie and she had
suffered for it, had paid the ultimate price. And Jamison had already been attacked
once. He’d done the best he could to make her safe on this trip, as had Jared. But
nothing was guaranteed and he’d be damned if he let her suffer the same way Carrie
had, being attacked backstage by some loser whose band never had a chance of going
huge—even before he’d been put on trial for rape. Not that the charges had stuck—Carrie
had been so messed up on prescription drugs by the trial that her testimony had been
“suspect,:” and he hadn’t been able to do a damn thing about it. Except shoulder the
blame for her pain and her addiction and watch as she slipped further and further
away from him. The thought of going through it again, of seeing Jamison suffer the
way Carrie had, woke him up in the middle of the night, drenched in a cold sweat.Besides,
if he was being honest, he’d admit that this thing between Jamison and him didn’t
have a shot of working out. Sure, she could use her degree cooking for the band, could
write her cookbookanywhere, but the fact of the matter was Jamison craved stability.
She would never let herself live the way her mom had, and he couldn’t see himself
living any other way. Not when staying in one place too long made him feel claustrophobic.
Like he couldn’t breathe or think.
No, the best thing to do would be to end their relationship now. Before she got any
more attached. Before he forgot all the reasons he couldn’t be the man she needed.
Part of him wanted to go talk to her right then, but it wasn’t practical. Night was
falling over Houston, which meant the fans would be hitting the venue any minute now.
Since the last thing he wanted to do was run the gauntlet tonight just to get to the
stage, he needed to hit the dressing room pretty damn quickly. With a wave to Gerald,
one of the band’s security guards, he ducked backstage. Headed for the dressing room
the concert promoter had designated for Shaken Dirty. The concert didn’t start for
a couple of hours, but he wanted some time to think. To just be.
He pulled up short when he saw Jared leaning against the wall outside the dressing
room, cell phone in his hand.
“Hey, man. Everything okay with Victoria?” Ryder asked. He couldn’t think of another
reason Jared would be standing in the hallway looking so grim-faced when his fiancée
had to be around somewhere.
“Yeah, she’s fine, I guess. She went shopping a few hours ago and I haven’t heard
from her.”
“Security’s with her, right?”
“Yeah.”
“So she’s fine.” Ryder smiled at him. “Probably just wanted to get something special
for the show tonight.”
“Yeah. You’re probably right.” Still, he checked his cell for the third time in as
many minutes.
“And then I figure we won’t be seeing you anywhere except on stage for the next few
days.”
Jared’s teeth came together with a snap. It was Ryder’s first clue that there was
more on his mind than Victoria—an idea that was reinforced when his best friend said,
“Kind of like we haven’t been seeing much of you around lately?”
He froze at the too casual tone in Jared’s voice. They’d been friends long enough
for him to know that when Jared pulled it out, shit was about to go bad. “You got
something you want to ask me?”
“I thought I just did.”
Fuck. “Jared—” He held out a placating hand even though part of him wanted to tell
the other man to screw off. That what was between him and Jamison was nobody’s business
but theirs. But that wasn’t fair, either, not when he knew Jared was just looking
out for his sister.
“You told me you were going to stay away from her.”
“I thought I was. I’d planned to.”
“Shit.” Jared looked like he’d been run over by the tour bus. “So you really are fucking
around with Jamison?”
Ryder’s back went up immediately. “Don’t talk about her like that. Jamison doesn’t
fuck around.”
“I was talking about
you
.” But some of the angry shock had faded. “So it is serious?”
He didn’t have a fucking clue what to say to that, knew that he’d be damned whatever
came out of his mouth. But he couldn’t just stand there with his thumb up his ass
all night either. He needed to tell Jared something and the best he could come up
with was, “Jamison’s special.”
Jared didn’t look impressed. “I’m well aware of that. It’s why I warned you to stay
the hell away from her.”
“I tried! Sleeping with my best friend’s little sister wasn’t exactly on my agenda,
you know.”
Jared winced. “I could have gone my whole fucking life without hearing those words
come out of your mouth.”
“Seems fair, considering I could have gone my whole life without saying them.”
Jared didn’t respond right away and silence stretched, taut and dangerous, between
them. “Why her?” Jared finally asked. “You could have picked anyone. Why’d you go
after Jamison?”
“First of all, I didn’t go after her. I kind of got broadsided by this whole thing.
And secondly, why not Jamison? She’s smart, funny, beautiful, caring. Plus she listens,
you know? She understands things that other people don’t.”
With Jamison, what he liked best was holding her after they had sex. Not that the
sex wasn’t good—it was amazing, incredible, absolutely mind-blowing. But at the same
time he really enjoyed talking to her. She had a wicked sense of humor that only came
out after a couple of orgasms and he loved seeing it. Just like he loved being the
only one who did see that side of her.
“Holy shit. You’re in love with her.”
Panic assailed him. “I didn’t say that.”
“You don’t have to. You think I don’t recognize the stupid look on your face? It’s
the same one I get when I talk about Vicki.”
“How would you know?”
“Wyatt took a picture once. He takes great delight in tormenting me with it. Telling
me how whipped I am.”
Ryder snorted. “You are whipped.”
“I am. And it’s a good feeling, my friend.” He turned serious again. “You and Jamison—”
“Are new. We’re really new, so if you want to take a shot at me, I’ll give you one
free one. But after that I’m fighting back.”
“Dude, I’m not going to hit you.”
Ryder relaxed a little. “Thanks, I—”
“Then again…” Jared’s fist plowed into his jaw without any warning, sent Ryder flying
back into the wall.
“Shit!” he yelled, clutching his injured jaw. “What the fuck? I have to sing in a
couple hours.”
“Yeah. I figure that should make it nice and painful.”
“I thought you said you weren’t going to hit me.”
“I wasn’t. Then I remembered you slept with my baby sister. You should be grateful
a sore jaw is all you’ve got.” He was grinning when he said the last.
Ryder glared at him, but didn’t argue. Jared had a point.
But then Jared’s smile faded, was replaced by a seriousness that was rare for his
friend. “Don’t hurt her. I know you’ve got some really bad shit in your past, but
Jamison’s isn’t all sunshine and roses. You know that.”
“Just like you have to know that the absolute last thing I want to do is hurt Jamison.”
“That’s not a promise.”
Ryder shook his head. How could it be when he knew how very likely it was that he
would screw things up? It was the one guarantee in his life, the one thing he was
exceptionally good at.
Jared wasn’t his best friend for nothing. He could see from the look on his guitarist’s
face that the other man knew exactly what he was thinking. “Shit, Ryder.” He sighed.
“Then be prepared for a lot worse than a punch in the jaw if you do hurt her.”
“That sounds fair.”
“You think?” Jared asked with a roll of his eyes.
Ignoring his friend’s sarcasm, Ryder stopped him as he went to open the dressing room
door. “Don’t tell anyone about Jamison and me, okay? I’m not ready for it to go public.”
For some reason that made Jared smile all over again. “Tell who what? I know nothing.”
Ryder snorted. “Let’s keep it that way.”
…
As the dressing room door closed behind Ryder and her brother, Jamison let out a low,
shaky breath and tried to pretend she hadn’t walked up in time to hear the very last
part of their conversation. After all, it was none of her business if Ryder wanted
to keep their “arrangement” a secret.
And what were they now, anyway? An item? A couple? Fuck friends? Or were they not
even that? If Ryder didn’t want anyone to know they were sleeping together, there
had to be a good reason. And if it wasn’t worry over Jared finding out, the only other
explanation she could come up with was he was afraid the press would get ahold of
her. Nothing like a few rabid paparazzi to break a relationship wide open.
But he had to know she was used to the paps. She was around Jared enough when the
group wasn’t touring that she’d dealt with her fair share of them—and pretty well,
if she did say so herself. So if he wasn’t worried about protecting her from the invasive
questions and photos, why all the secrecy? Why the need to keep their relationship
away from public consumption?
In her head, there was only one answer and it was the one she wanted least to believe.
Not after the hours they’d spent in bed together that morning and certainly not after
the way Ryder had made love to her in the bathroom. For the first time in her adult
life, she’d felt like she really was beautiful. That her man saw her in a way she’d
never been able to see herself.
Only now she was finding out that man didn’t want anyone else to know he was with
her. She’d been around the block enough to know that most men were pretty territorial
when it came to the women they were with, so if Ryder wasn’t being like that, it was
because he really didn’t think of her as his. He didn’t want her, not the way she
wanted him.
It was stupid to be upset by that now—she was the one who’d set the rules, after all.
But how could she have known that her feelings for Ryder would deepen, would become
so overwhelming, so quickly? She’d wanted him forever, had grabbed on to him with
both hands when she got the chance. And to hell with the consequences.
Getting angry at Ryder, being hurt, wasn’t fair. Not when all he’d done was abide
by the rules she had set. But knowing that in her head and understanding it in her
heart were two different things, especially when each day she fell deeper and deeper
in love with him. How could she not when he was
so kind and considerate and sweet to her when they were alone? Of course it had been
easy to be blinded by the affection, and the sex. Was still easy, because even as
she died inside at this new knowledge that he didn’t love her, not like she loved
him,, she also knew that she wasn’t going to do anything drastic. It wasn’t like she
had any intention of putting a stop to their relationship. Not when she so desperately
wanted to hold, and be held by him.
Shoving the pain down deep inside of herself, she crossed the hall to Shaken Dirty’s
dressing room. She’d come to find out if they wanted her to cook this afternoon or
if they were just planning on eating the buffet that was currently being laid out
in the green room.
Determined not to let what the hurt she felt affect the way she did her job—or anything
else—Jamison shoved the dressing room door wide open. And walked straight into hell.