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hips moving, reaching out for more. He felt the head of his cock bump against her entrance and for a moment, he swore it felt as if the devil himself was prodding him in the ass, daring him to just push it inside her a little. Just a little.
She whimpered beneath him and the sound awakened his senses. He pulled away quickly for fear her thrusting motion would send his cock inside her whether they wanted it or not.
“Hold still,” he murmured, running his hand along his flesh, trying to find relief.
He missed the hot clasp of her thighs the second he moved and felt his body overruling his mind once more. “Just let me fuck your legs. Let me pretend I’m inside that hot cunt of yours.”
“Too good,” she whispered. “I don’t think I can take this, Sky. Not without wanting more. Wanting it all.”
He closed his eyes and gritted his teeth, trying to remind himself of all the reasons why he shouldn’t fuck her for real. Virgin. Casual sex. “God, gypsy. Please don’t say that.”
She closed her eyes and he could sense the effort it was taking for her to pull herself together. Her breathing was harsh, heavy, labored. “This is too hard. Too hard.” A tear slid down her cheek.
Fuck. He’d been a fool to think he could start something like this and expect it to end innocently. What the hell was he doing? Maybe subconsciously he’d been hoping to tempt her. Hoping to drive her beyond her limits so she’d surrender her body, her virginity to him.
He took a deep, painful breath and pushed himself off her, moving to the side.
Lying on his back, he covered his eyes with his arm and forced himself to breathe naturally. “I’m sorry,” he said when he felt able to speak.
She didn’t reply and he opened his eyes. She’d covered herself with the blanket and he read the regret in her face.
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“You don’t have to be sorry, Sky. I seemed to have misplaced my ‘no’ there for a minute.”
“I shouldn’t have initiated that. I was tempting fate.”
“Do you want to know why I’ve never slept with a man?” she asked.
He turned toward her, amazed by her sudden composure, her grace in light of the awkwardness of their situation. He’d been an asshole, but rather than being furious and telling him to get the hell out, she was giving him a reason, a rationale for her choices.
She owed him nothing and yet, as always, she offered everything. “I assumed you were saving yourself for marriage.”
She shook her head. “No, I’m not waiting for marriage.” He was surprised by her admission. “Then what?”
“Love, Sky. I’m waiting for love.”
“There are all kinds of love, gypsy.”
She smiled, her face serene, beautiful. She was a woman who knew what she wanted, who wouldn’t compromise, regardless of his attempts to lead her astray. “I know that. I’m also old enough to know there are all kinds of things that disguise themselves as love. Infatuation, passion, fascination, lust. I’ve seen them all. Hell, I’ve felt them all, but they aren’t what I want. What I deserve.” She was wrong. She deserved all those things…and love.
“So what do you want?” he asked, clearing his throat against the lump that had lodged there. He felt like a heel, an ass. She’d told him her limits and he’d pushed them, pushed
her
.
“Someone kind and thoughtful. Someone with a sense of humor who loves music.
Someone who looks at my crazy clothes and doesn’t seek to change my wardrobe but likes my silly style. Someone who thinks about me when he leaves and can’t wait to come home to me each night. Someone who accepts me for who I am, freckles and all.” He nodded. “That doesn’t seem too demanding.”
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She rolled her eyes. “Is that right? Then how come I’m twenty-six years old and I’ve never had sex? Apparently my sights are set way too high.”
“No, they aren’t. I’m going to let you in on a little secret. Men are idiots.” She laughed. “That’s not exactly a secret, Sky.” He swatted her ass playfully. “You just haven’t met the right guy yet, Ruby. When you do, you’ll know, and he’ll be the luckiest bastard on earth.” Her smile dimmed and he suspected he’d hurt her with his words. Dammit. She didn’t think
he
could give her what she was looking for, did she? He was a fucked-up, driven rock star with too many aspirations and too much baggage. He wanted too much. Platinum albums, sold-out shows. He wanted to break every record a musician could break. He was too busy to fool around with an emotion as tricky, as complicated as true love.
He looked at her for a moment before closing his eyes against her beauty. So if all of that was right, then why did his heart ache with the thought that one day she would find the love she was looking for…with someone else? Was he jealous? Jealous of her?
Or was he jealous of her dream? While Teagan knew exactly what she was looking for, what she deserved, he was sitting inside one lonely hotel room after another, hiding from the paparazzi, hiding from real life, content to drift in a sort of rock star Neverland.
“I think we should try to get some sleep,” he said at last. “It’s been a long day.” She leaned forward and kissed him lightly on the cheek. The touch was platonic, friendly, comforting.
“Good night, rock star.”
“Night, gypsy.”
* * * * *
Several days passed as Teagan and Sky continued to work on their music. The paparazzi hadn’t found them and for the first time in a long time, Sky was one-101
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hundred-percent relaxed…and if he admitted it to himself, happy. As evening fell, they decided to call it a night on the songwriting. The days had begun to grow chillier, so he rose to throw some wood onto the fire he’d built earlier.
“I’m going to make some hot chocolate,” she said. “You want some?” Sky resumed his seat, toying with the guitar. “Yeah, that sounds pretty good.
Marshmallows?”
She laughed. “Is there any other way to drink hot chocolate?” He wiggled his eyebrows. “A woman after my own heart.” He strummed a few chords of one of The Universe’s songs, the action relaxing after the long day spent working on their music. He listened as Teagan puttered around in the kitchen making their hot chocolate and he grinned at how comfortable their shacking-up together felt. She was easy to be around…when she wasn’t driving him crazy over the songwriting. He chuckled and shook his head. Even fighting over lyrics and chords with her was fun.
He glanced up when she returned to the living room, startled when she cried out and spilled some of the steaming liquid on her hand.
“Ouch, dammit!” she said, turning to set the cups down so she could rub her wrist.
He rose quickly. “Are you okay? Here, let me see it.” He grasped her hand in his, leading her back to the kitchen where he ran cold water from the faucet over the red skin.
“I-I saw a face,” she stammered and he realized she was shaking—not from pain, but from fear.
“A face?”
“In the window, behind where you were sitting in the living room.” Sky felt the hair on the back of his neck prickle. Had they been found?
“I’ll go look,” he said, picking up a flashlight he’d noticed on the kitchen counter earlier. Teagan nodded as he left.
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For several minutes he circled the cabin, but if someone really had been there, they weren’t now. When he came back inside, Teagan had cleaned up the hot chocolate and was sitting on the couch, calmer.
“Anything?” she asked.
He shook his head and she shrugged.
“I’m trying to figure out if I just imagined it,” she said ruefully. “I’m a city girl through and through. I can’t begin to tell you how much the silence of this place freaks me out sometimes.”
He laughed at her admission as he locked the front door and joined her. He took her hand and looked at the small burn. The redness was already fading.
“We’ll only be here for a couple weeks more and then you can go home to your incessant car horns, smoggy air and treeless existence.”
“Thank God,” she said with fake relief. “Sorry,” she added sheepishly.
He leaned over and kissed her lightly. “No problem. It’s been a damn long day. I think we should try to get some sleep.”
She nodded as he led them to the bedroom. They changed into their pajamas, falling asleep within moments of lying down.
* * * * *
The first week passed with a lazy, quiet sort of contentment. He and Teagan quickly fell into a comfortable pattern, working on their songs, eating, talking, taking long walks by the river. They’d continued to share the bed, but he hadn’t initiated any more playing. Touching her, kissing her had ceased to be a game to him and he found it impossible to think of their relationship as anything even remotely resembling a casual affair, so instead they’d become friends. Teagan seemed to take the newfound platonic nature of their relationship in stride. She was an amazing woman and he knew she would never pressure him for something he couldn’t give.
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He’d called Natalie and Rod a couple times to check in. His friends were relieved to know he’d escaped the paparazzi again and Natalie had expressed some jealousy over his vacation spot. She’d tried to invite herself to the cabin for a visit, but Sky had shot her down. He was barely able to sort out his confused feelings for Teagan. Natalie would take one look at him and realize he was a man on the edge. He’d expected his attraction to Teagan to wane or at the very least abate with the removal of their sex games. Unfortunately that plan had yet to pan out.
He’d also endured another rather painful conversation with Marty regarding his decision to leave the band. To say Marty wasn’t taking the news well was the understatement of the century. Sky wasn’t sure, but he thought the man had cried a bit at the end of the phone call.
By the end of their first week together, Sky realized his musical partnership with Teagan, the songs they were writing, could very well shoot him into another sphere professionally. He’d never been more proud of anything he’d done as a musician.
Of course, that point would be moot if he couldn’t get his computer working. He tapped a few more keys on the laptop, frustrated by the blue screen of death that stared at him.
“Fuck,” he said, slamming his hand down on the worthless hunk of metal.
“Still not working?” she asked. He’d been trying to open a file for the last hour.
“No, the damn thing says I’ve got a virus. Christ, Teagan, all our songs are on this computer.”
She shrugged, unconcerned, reaching for her notebook. “Guess you’re just going to have to admit that sometimes the old ways really are better.” He laughed when she opened her beloved book, all the pages filled with their notes, their lyrics, their songs. He’d teased her relentlessly about writing out their music longhand when he had a software program that would make it easy.
He bowed to her. “Okay, I stand corrected on this one small point.” 104
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She shook her head. “You’ll have to do a helluva lot better than that.”
“I was wrong and you were right,” he muttered, certain the grin on his face was giving away the fact that he didn’t mind conceding the argument. She had their songs.
The sheer relief of that fact pretty much ensured he’d say anything, do anything for her.
“That’s better. I knew it was just a matter of time before I wore you down,” she said, standing up and stretching. He was treated to a glimpse of her breasts outlined by her T-shirt and he felt his traitorous cock rise to the surface. Damn thing had been residing at half-mast for a week.
“I suppose we should get some sleep. I can barely keep my eyes open.” She gestured to his computer. “You can keep beating on that piece of junk in the morning.” Sky nodded and yawned.
“The thing is toast,” he agreed. He watched her walk to their bedroom, just as she had every night for a week—and he was struck by the realization that he wanted to make love to her.
Make love. Their bedroom.
Jesus.
She turned, confused when he failed to follow her. “Is something wrong?” she asked.
“No, I—I just want to make sure the door is locked. Go on. I’ll be there in a minute.” She continued on and he walked to the mantel of the fireplace, gripping the wood tightly. He wanted to make love to Teagan. Sky Mitchell, king of the casual fuck, wanted to make love to her. He didn’t do that. Hell, he wasn’t sure he’d ever made love to Holly and they’d actually discussed marriage. Their sex life had been as volatile and heated as their romance. Love hadn’t really figured into the equation.
This was wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong. His head yelled at him to get a grip. He only
thought
he was in love with her. It was Teagan who was messing with his mind.
She was a virgin. She was presenting a challenge he thought he’d been resisting. It was 105
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the old “wanting what you can’t have” game. That had to be it. He wanted her because he couldn’t have her. Teagan was saving herself for love, so he’d convinced himself he was in love with her.
Time to snap out of it, boy. You take her now, you’re locking the ball and chain on your
ankle and tossing away the key.
He took a couple deep breaths and walked to the front door. It was locked, just as he’d known it was. He reached over and pulled a blanket off the back of the couch, lying down on the lumpy cushions. He could resist her. He had to. He had his solo career, his future to think of.
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Chapter Eight
Teagan woke up as the bright sun shone across the bed, blinding her for a moment.
She glanced at the empty spot next to her. She and Sky had been at the cabin for over two weeks. Every night for the past week he’d elected to sleep on the couch and he hadn’t touched her—not even a brushing glance—since then. She rubbed her eyes and yawned. She was tired of tossing and turning all night and confused as hell.
She’d assumed they’d continue their casual sex games at the cabin, but she sensed some part of Sky had shut down against her. She’d tried to fit into the role he seemed determined to place her in—that of a friend, a writing partner—hoping it would help to bring back the closeness they’d enjoyed in Baltimore. Despite her efforts to put him at ease, she felt like an outsider trying to peek into the windows of his soul. Problem was the blinds were drawn. He didn’t want to pursue a long-term relationship—that much was clear. Sky was only interested in casual sex and as soon as she’d made it clear that wasn’t her style, he’d backed away. She could respect the honesty of his actions, even if they did slice through her like a knife.