Текст книги "Strings Attached"

Автор книги: Stephanie Julian

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Текущая страница: 3 (всего у книги 17 страниц)

“You coming?”

His tone clearly indicated he didn’t think she had the balls to follow him into this place because it so wasn’t her type of place. Which was probably why he’d chosen it. He expected her to balk.

Fuck that.

She merely raised an eyebrow at him. And waited for him to open the door for her.

He grabbed the door, yanked it open, and ushered her through.

*   *   *

Fuck, yes.

The music hit Baz instantly. The beat of the drum in his gut. The screaming guitars making his fingers twitch to play. The throb of the bass in the back of his head felt like getting hit with a bat.

He wanted to wade into the crowd and get lost in the sound. Let it wash out everything in his head until he only heard the music.

Which, he realized belatedly, he recognized. The band onstage had played one of the festivals Baseline Sins had headlined a couple of years ago. Which meant there were people in the audience who’d recognize him.

Fuck.

He almost turned around and walked back out the door. Then he remembered Tru. Stuck to his side and staring around like she’d never seen anything like this place. And maybe she hadn’t.

“Dude, you staying or going? If you’re staying, pay the girl.”

Baz glanced at the bouncer but Tru had already stepped forward, purse open. He snapped his hand around her wrist before she could whip out her card.

“No fucking way.”

Her eyes widened, then narrowed, but he ignored the daggers she was metaphorically stabbing into his back as he stepped up to the ticket window.

The girl behind the window took his card, barely glancing at his face. She ran it, gave him the slip to sign, and it wasn’t until she’d passed his card back that she did the double take.

He was used to it, especially at places like this, places in his world. He got recognized. It typically didn’t bother him. Tonight, he knew it was gonna be a problem.

Fucking hell.

He wanted to wrap his arm around Tru’s shoulders and march her out the front door before people started to realize he was here and wanted to talk to him. He didn’t want to talk to anyone. And yet here he was.

How much more fucked up could he get?

The panic attack had hit him out of nowhere midway through dinner. All because a woman had come on to him.

And that was the absolute most fucked-up part of this whole shit. JoJo with the bountiful bouncing boobs had made it absolutely clear that if he wanted to get laid tonight, she was more than willing to oblige.

Hell, she’d practically told him that if he drove her home, she’d blow him in the car and let him fuck her wherever he wanted.

“Hey, Valenti? How goes it? Haven’t seen you in a hell of a long time. How the fuck are you, man?”

Turning toward the booming voice coming from behind him, Sebastian felt a little of the tension making him grind his teeth lift.

At six-five and two-hundred-fifty pounds of pure muscle, Xander Tucci looked like he should be on the back of a Harley dressed in black leather. His beard had gotten longer since the last time Sebastian had seen him and was streaked with more gray. But his head was still perfectly bald and ringed with a black bandanna.

He enfolded Sebastian in a bear hug that Sebastian returned without hesitation.

“Xander. Nice to see you.”

“Jesus, boy, you sound like a fucking pussy. Heard you been working on some film music or some such shit. You going soft in your old age or what? Let me buy you a drink. You here to listen or hang?”

By the time Xander had finished, Sebastian was smiling. Now this was more like it. This felt comfortable. Where he belonged.

“Listen.” Because Xander was right. He was a pussy. If they were here to listen to the band, he wouldn’t be able to talk to anyone. “This is Tru.” He grabbed her hand and pulled her forward. “Tru, Xander Tucci. This is his place. It’s one of the first places Baseline Sins played in Philly when we were a bunch of idiot kids with no real idea what we were doing. Xander set us straight on a lot of things.”

Xander took one look at Tru and straightened like someone had shoved a pole up his ass. Then he stuck out one huge hand and smiled at her like a choirboy.

“Hey, Tru. Nice to meet you.”

Tru’s lips curved in a genuine grin that made Sebastian’s dick throb and his balls tighten.

“Nice to meet you, too.” She had to raise her voice to be heard over the music coming from the stage in the next room but she didn’t shout.

“You two come on back and I’ll set you up in the balcony.”

Leading them through the door into a private office, Xander struck up a conversation that allowed Sebastian a little breathing room.

“Was hoping you’d stop in sometime. Wanted to see for myself how you been. Talked to your dad right after your breakdown last year. Just wanted to make sure you were okay. I like your dad. Seems like a good guy.”

Yep, same old Xander. No filter on his mouth and no problem saying anything that came to his mind.

“Yeah, my dad’s been great. Sorry I didn’t contact you myself. It’s been . . . a weird fucking year.”

Taking the stairs to the second floor and the private viewing rooms, Xander shook his head. “You’re not gonna hear any pussy-ass complaints from me, kid. I knew you’d come around when you figured shit out. I’m just glad to see you looking like yourself again. Even if you are wearing a fucking suit.”

Xander pushed open a door at the end of a short hall at the top of the stairs and waved them through. “Let me send up some drinks. You want beer or soda?”

“Soda’s fine for me,” Tru piped up as she slipped onto the plush leather seat overlooking the stage and the pit at the back of the small room. “Thank you.”

“Soda for me, too, man. And thanks.”

“Anything, kid. You know that. Glad to see you.” Xander nodded, and then knocked on the doorjamb. “Oh, hey. You want me to tell Gina and the guys you’re here?”

Sebastian stiffened and immediately shook his head. “Shit. I thought . . . No. Not . . . yet.”

Xander nodded like that’s exactly what he’d expected. “Figured. No problem. But you know Gina’s gonna be pissed as hell if she finds out you were here and she didn’t get to see you.”

“I know. I’ll . . . If we’re still here after their set, I’ll stop backstage.”

“Your call. I’ll send those drinks up.”

Then he left and they were alone.

Alone with Tru in a semidark room.

Maybe this had been a really bad idea.

Chapter Three

Sebastian showed no sign of speaking, though the room they were in was somewhat insulated from the full brunt of the music.

Tru knew they’d still have to yell at each other to be heard, but since they weren’t talking that probably wasn’t going to be a problem.

Their server flashed him a huge smile and a great shot of her breasts when she bent over to set the glasses on the table in front of him but he barely acknowledged her when she arrived with their drinks.

Tru might not have been in the room for all the attention the server paid her.

Then again, Sebastian was ignoring her, too. She tried not to let it get to her, knew he had issues. It still bothered her. As Greg’s former PA, she was used to being ignored. It came with the territory. No one paid any attention to her when Greg was in the vicinity.

So she turned her attention to the music. It was nothing she’d ever have chosen to listen to, but she knew it was the same genre as Sebastian’s band’s music.

Hard rock. That’s how Sebastian characterized his music. And she’d listened to enough of his music to know this band wasn’t in the same league. They weren’t bad. They just weren’t . . . as good. She didn’t know how to explain it¸ but when she listened to Sebastian’s music, she heard the emotion and the message his band was trying to get across.

These musicians were younger than Sebastian, and they certainly seemed . . . energetic. The singer threw himself into the performance as if he had something to prove and the guitarists bounced around so much she couldn’t believe they still managed to play their instruments. Even the drummer couldn’t stay in his seat, always looking as if he wanted to jump down and join the guys at the front of the stage.

The audience loved it, though, writhing in the pit as a solid mass.

She’d been to a few concerts before. Okay, she’d been to exactly four, if you didn’t count the annual high school band performances she’d attended because her best friend had played clarinet. But none had been a full-on, aural assault like this.

She’d never seen Sebastian’s band live, had only ever seen him play the piano or the guitar in the confines of the studio. But she had seen his band’s music videos and she’d watched some live concert footage as well.

For research, of course. When Greg had hired him, she’d done what she always did when faced with an unknown factor, be it an actor or a director or a reporter. She researched and looked for the reasons why they shouldn’t work with someone. Not why they should. Usually that was the easy answer.

Why Greg had wanted Sebastian hadn’t been as cut and dried. The guy had issues. Serious issues that made Tru nervous as hell about hiring him. But then she’d watched him perform. And she’d heard the music he’d created for Greg’s film.

And she understood why Greg had demanded only Sebastian.

The band played its last note and then the crowd erupted in cheers. As the house lights came on and much softer music filtered through the speakers, she found Sebastian watching her.

His mouth curved in a wry grin. “Ears bleeding yet?”

Shaking her head, she turned her entire body in his direction so she wasn’t twisted on the couch. “I didn’t completely hate it. But they’re not as good as Baseline Sins, are they?”

She saw the shock he tried to hide before his gaze slipped away to stare out at the stage. She thought he’d brush her off with some smart-ass remark.

“High praise coming from you. Thanks. Sometimes . . . Yeah, thanks. You’ll probably like the next band better. We’ve toured with them a few times. Their lead singer’s female, got a beautiful voice, more Amy Lee than Lzzy Hale.”

She knew who Amy Lee was, but the other name was a mystery so she merely nodded. “Is that the Gina Xander mentioned?”

Sebastian nodded. “She’s a good friend. At least she was before I fell off the face of the earth.”

“I’m sure she’d be happy to see you.”

He huffed out an unamused laugh. “Yeah, well, I’m not so sure about that.”

Leaning forward, he laced his fingers together, putting his elbows on his knees and letting his head drop.

The tension in his shoulders actually made hers hurt in sympathy.

“What happened?”

His head popped up, and she could tell he was about to tell her to mind her own business when she held up one hand to stave him off. “And before you bite my head off, I’m not asking for any reason other than you look like you need to get something off your chest.” She paused. “I know I’m not your most favorite person in the world,” huge understatement, “but . . . you’re part of ManDown now and this is what I do. I fix things for our people.”

His eyes narrowed. “Our people?”

“The people we work with. Creative people. I’m good at fixing things.”

She wanted him to let her help. Because she knew the tension between them was contributing to his agitation. And she absolutely hated that.

It made her feel like she was failing. And she hated to fail.

He shook his head. “You can’t fix me, Tru. I’m not a prop you can track down or a situation you can make disappear.”

She managed to not roll her eyes but only barely. “I understand that. But if you need to talk, I’m a good listener.”

He fell silent for several seconds, his gaze glued to hers. In the hazy light filtering in from the performance area and the low lighting in their secluded space, she could see that his eyes appeared more green now than they had earlier. His hair stood up in spikes from running his fingers through it and his mouth was compressed into a line.

Amazingly, her gaze fixed on his mouth. She’d been noticing it a lot lately and had even found herself watching him talk more often than actually listening to what he said. She’d told herself it was because she was trying to ignore his actual words, which were pissing her off.

Liar.

She liked his mouth. She found it sexy.

Oh, crap.

She blinked and dragged her gaze back to his eyes but found his gaze focused on her mouth.

That strange sensation returned to the pit of her stomach. The one she kept telling herself was not attraction.

Liar, liar, pants on fire.

Then he shook his head and looked toward the stage again.

“I don’t think you want to hear what I have to say.”

She almost didn’t hear him and considered acting like she hadn’t. But she wasn’t a coward.

“Yes, I do. Talk to me.”

He turned back toward her.

“It’s not that—”

A wailing guitar cut through the silence she hadn’t realized had fallen, followed by the booming beats of a drum.

Then a woman began to sing, her voice melodic and beautiful and completely badass.

And still, she couldn’t look away from Sebastian.

So she saw the exact moment he made the decision to come at her.

She could’ve pulled away. She could’ve gotten up and walked out the door.

Instead, she sat there and watched him as he closed the distance separating them during the space between one second and the next.

Part of the reason she didn’t move was out of shock.

She froze as he wrapped one hand around her nape and wove the other into her hair. He sucked in a breath just before he crushed his lips against hers.

Hard. Like he’d been dying to kiss her after months of frustration and longing. As if he couldn’t breathe until he’d kissed her.

And she let it happen.

Let him slant his mouth over hers and part her lips and slip his tongue into her mouth so he could taste her.

Oh, god, the heat that slammed through her body when his tongue touched hers was just this side of volcanic. It rocked her foundation so hard she didn’t realize he’d dragged her across the cushion that had separated them until he had her chest plastered against his.

She reached for him then. Put her hands on his shoulders, but she didn’t know if it was to push him away or pull him closer.

She certainly didn’t push him away. While her brain came to a grinding halt, her body came to life with a jolt.

Her nipples peaked and her pussy clenched with a force that made her suck in air through her nose. She probably made some kind of sound, but neither of them could hear it over the music.

Or the beating of her heart.

She could barely breathe or move, and couldn’t think as his lips pressed on hers with a purpose that intensified with every second. His tongue licked at hers, coaxed her to play with his, to participate. But it was more than coaxing. It wasn’t force, but he wasn’t exactly asking for permission, either.

No, he was taking what she hadn’t known she’d wanted to give him. But now that’s all she could think about. Letting him kiss her and make her feel more alive than she had in . . . God, she didn’t know how long.

Her fingers flexed, then slid down his arms to clench at his biceps. The thick muscles bunched beneath her palms. He’d removed his jacket shortly after they’d sat down and the heat of his skin burned her through the silky cotton of his shirt.

Her lungs burned and she drew in more air so she wouldn’t have to break away from this kiss. This amazing, shocking, panty-wetting kiss.

Yes, her panties were wet. Simply from his mouth on hers.

Her heartbeat, mixed with the loud music, pounded in her ears.

Oh, god, was she moaning?

Her fingers clenched, digging into Baz’s firm muscles as his hand in her hair tugged her head back so he could get a different angle on her mouth. His lips demanded that she give in and let him have what he wanted. And what he seemed to want was her.

The hand on her neck released, moving to her shoulder, then beginning to slide down her arm.

Her nipples tightened in anticipation of his touch, but he bypassed her breasts completely and went straight for her hip.

As his hand cupped her curves, she shifted toward him, her head tilting farther to encourage him to kiss her deeper, harder.

Oh my god, he kissed like he’d taken a master class in it. Like she imagined a man who was dying for her would kiss. She hadn’t allowed herself to dream about being kissed like this.

And now, with Sebastian . . .

Her brain short-circuited as his hand on her hip dragged her even closer. She went without a fight, her body overriding her brain’s sudden warning that this was getting out of hand.

Her arms stiffened, ready to push him away, but his next move wiped everything but her lust out of her mind.

He dragged her over his lap, her knees falling on either side of his hips and his hands pressing her down until the sensitive and throbbing flesh between her thighs came into contact with the ridge behind his zipper.

Hard. Hot. Huge.

Her hips moved of their own volition, pressing her pussy against his cock, seeking relief from the burning ache.

Sebastian moaned, a low, deep sound she heard over the music. She released him then, her hands moving to his shoulders before sinking into his hair. She secretly loved his hair, and had wondered, more than once, if it was as silky soft as it looked. It was long enough for his bangs to hang in his eyes and brush the collar of his shirt. Long enough for her fingers to wind in the strands, making it clear that he wasn’t going to get away unless she allowed it.

And she didn’t want to let him go. Her fingers tightened at the mere thought.

He moaned again and pulled away to suck in a breath. She drew in air as well, her eyes barely fluttering open before he sealed their lips together again.

And now she did feel like she was drowning, her body sinking under the force of his desire.

Cupping her ass in both hands, he dragged her even closer.

She moaned as the pressure of her clit on his zipper both alleviated the ache and intensified it. Her body shook as lust burned through every nerve ending. She didn’t orgasm but she came damn close. And if she allowed him to continue, she would.

She couldn’t let him. She needed to get up and put some distance between them.

Her body had other plans, though. Her hips began a slow grind against his erection, finding a rhythm she had no context for.

No other man she’d slept with had had this effect on her. They hadn’t made her want to grab their pants and rip them off so she could take their cocks in hand and make them harder. To stroke them until they came all over. Or have them throw her on her back and fuck her right here, right now.

If she and Baz spread out on this couch, no one would be able to see them—

Oh my god.

She froze, went so still Sebastian noticed almost immediately.

Pulling back just far enough to see her eyes, Sebastian stared at her, sexual intent clear in his gaze. A heat so fierce, she shivered in the face of it. Her pussy clenched, the ache spreading outward until she was practically consumed by it.

She felt like she couldn’t breathe. The heat rolling off him enticed her to wrap herself around him again. To throw the rest of her sanity and caution to the wind and let him continue to seduce her right out of her dress.

Why not? What could it hurt? The man certainly has sex down to an art.

And just the fact that she was considering it made her shake her head.

No. God, no. She couldn’t. He didn’t fit into her plan. The plan where she made her first million by the time she was thirty and established a name for herself in the film business and showed everyone back home that she wasn’t crazy for leaving Nebraska to work in Hollywood.

“Jesus, Tru, I can practically see the gears working in your brain. Shut it down. For five fucking minutes, shut it down.”

Then he shoved his one hand through her hair again and tugged her back against him.

This time, she should’ve been ready for him. She should’ve put her hands on his shoulders and held him at arm’s length.

Did she?

His mouth sealed over hers again and she felt a momentary relief that he hadn’t let her half-hearted attempt to stop him work.

This time though, his kiss was less devouring and way more enticing.

He took his time now, explored her lips with less aggression and more finesse. If he hadn’t managed to seduce her before, he certainly was now.

His tongue didn’t lash at hers. He caressed. Played. Enticed.

And she fell for it. For him. All rational thought fled as he slipped the hand still on her ass around to her thigh. He petted her through her dress. Slow strokes that lulled her into leaning farther into him. And then his hand moved beneath the hem of her skirt.

His fingers landed on top of her thigh. At first he made non-threatening glides with his palm from midthigh to her knee.

But then he went back up. And each time, he moved a little higher, until his fingertips brushed against her underwear.

Now she froze but for only a moment because he kissed her deeper, harder, stealing her breath as he slid his fingers beneath the silk.

Yes, please. More.

She wanted him to touch her, and yet she knew he shouldn’t. They’d crossed a line and were about to fall over the cliff.

She stilled, the rational part of her brain trying to gain the upper hand.

He pressed on. And she let him. Because she didn’t want him to stop.

His fingers brushed her mound and arrowed straight for her clit. She almost cried out when he finally touched the tiny bundle of nerves. Moving his finger in circles against the already sensitized bud, he caused shafts of heat to spike through her body. Her back bowed as she pressed her mound harder against his hand, blindly wanting more from him.

He gave it to her, increasing his speed and twisting his hand until the heel of his palm pressed against her clit and his fingers pushed between her folds and inside.

She instinctively stiffened.

And he pressed farther into her, stroking his fingers against her inner walls, making her whimper.

Her body responded with a renewed surge of desire. Sebastian groaned low in his chest as her moisture spilled over his fingers.

Gasping as he abruptly ended their kiss, she had a moment to blink up at him before he lowered his mouth to press hot kisses along her jaw to her ear, where he bit her lobe hard enough to make her flinch. Which only added to the pleasure of his fingers pumping into her and his thumb circling her clit.

Her building orgasm remained just out of reach, probably because of her confusion over how she’d ended up here. If she could just stop and think about this for a minute, she’d realize—

His mouth paused to suck at the sensitive skin at her collar bared by her dress just as his fingers stroked high inside her.

She came, her body jerking with the force of it. Burying her face in his neck, she moaned, the sound swallowed by the music. But Sebastian obviously felt the contractions around his fingers and worked her until she could barely breathe.

Her body yearned toward another release.

No. She couldn’t. Not again.

The first time had been bad enough. Which meant it had been too good.

And would he expect her to reciprocate now?

Panic reared up.

She had to leave. Now. She had to get out of here. She’d totally ruined their professional relationship. Not him. She didn’t blame him for any of this. He was a guy. Guys were horny and always looking to score.

She was the one who should’ve put a stop to this immediately.

“Tru. Hey. Are you okay?”

She barely heard him as his fingers slipped from her body, making her shudder. His arm wrapped around her shoulders as if he realized she was about to bolt.

She was. She had to. She had to get out of there.

He nuzzled her, his nose rubbing against her cheek. The gesture so sweet she wanted to melt right back into his arms.

“No.”

He stilled, his breath warm against her cheek.

“No, I . . . can’t. I have to go.”

She pushed away from him, taking him off guard enough that he released her. Scrambling to her feet, she found her purse on the cushion next to him and grabbed it.

“Tru, wait—”

“I’ve got to go. Now. Right now.”

Or she knew she’d stay and let him fuck her right there on the couch.

“Tru. Goddamn it—”

She was already out the door and fleeing down the steps by the time he got to the top of the stairs.

And she knew that only because she’d stopped and turned just as she reached the door at the bottom of the stairs marked EXIT.

As she pushed through and onto the sidewalk, she heard him calling out to her and the thump of his footsteps.

She knew she had to get away.

Luck was with her. A taxi was dropping off a fare right in front of the building, and she slid into the back seat just as Sebastian crashed through the door.

She felt like a bank robber making a clean escape.

Only the wetness of her panties reminded her that tomorrow, there’d be hell to pay.