Intrigued By You, page 13
The weight on my chest pressed a little heavier. I never had managed to shake off the guilt, and after all this time I accepted I never would. It was as much a part of me as a limb. Most days, I was too busy to notice it was there. Nighttime was different when darkness closed in, allowing the voices in my mind to take over.
Murderer.
On a logical level, I knew that wasn’t true. I hadn’t even been there when Caroline injected that needle full of smack into her arm, but I might as well have been. I should have seen how desperate she was, how fragile. I’d chosen the worst possible moment to tell her it was over, and then I’d hung up on her when she called me and threatened to kill herself.
I should’ve called the emergency services and had them go over to her place. Instead, I’d blissed out on my own dose of heroin.
Shaking the intrusive, painful thoughts from my mind, I left the control room and ambled along the corridor to Studio A to see if Aspen was still there. Empty. I did a one-eighty, beelining for the communal areas, and it didn’t take long to find her chatting with Presley. He was grinning and standing too close for my liking. He touched her elbow as though he had the right, sending a flush of jealousy surging through me. Aspen laughed at something he said, easy, non-flirtatious, but it got to me, anyway.
My jaw flexed. I stalked over, slow and deliberate. No rush, no drama. When I reached them, I didn’t ask for permission. I slid my arm across her shoulders and pulled her to me like she belonged there.
Because she did.
“I’m leaving shortly.” Tone low, I let my lips brush her temple, my gaze traveling to Presley, a clear message in my gaze. Stupid, really. This kid was wet behind the ears, no match for me. But there was something in his expression that set my instincts alight. A cockiness that hadn’t been there on that wet London afternoon in a dive bar. Then he’d been tongue-tied, grateful for a chance to follow his dreams. Even at his first concert I attended with Aspen at The Crimson Vault, he’d been the same, yet a few short weeks later, something was off with the lad. There was a steeliness in the way he looked at me, almost challenging.
Seven years between him and Aspen, and seven years between Aspen and me. She wouldn’t be interested in a twenty-one-year-old guy, though. Would she?
“Good session?” she asked, oblivious to the tension I’d created.
“Yeah. We’re on track.”
“Fabulous. Well, I’ll leave you two to chat. Presley’s had an awesome session, too. I’m sure he can’t wait to tell you all about it.” She slid from underneath my arm. “See you at eight.”
“You will.” I tracked her until she vanished from sight, then returned my attention to Presley. “So, kid, good session, huh?”
A flicker of annoyance darkened his features. “I’m not a kid.”
What was happening right now was exactly what I’d feared. I’d hoped by signing with a smaller label, his ego wouldn’t take over. I should’ve seen this coming. I’d seen it many times before. Having his first single hit number one on both sides of the Atlantic had made him think he was invincible, that he could do and say anything. That he could have anyone he chose. Time to take him down a peg or two.
“A bit of friendly advice, mate.” I clapped him on the shoulder, noting the way he stiffened. “She’s not available.”
He flashed me a brilliant grin, the earlier irritation sliding off his face. Or maybe he masked it. “Aspen? You’re warning me off the CEO of the company that gave me a break?” He threw back his head and laughed. “Buddy, you’re fucking way off base. I’m grateful to her, and I like her, but that’s it.”
His words stank of bullshit. I had fourteen years’ worth of life experience on this kid, and I’d seen it all, done it all. He didn’t fool me. “I discovered you. I brought you to Aspen’s attention. Don’t fucking disappoint me. Keep your feet on the ground and your head out of the fucking clouds, or you risk losing everything.”
His eyes flew wide. “Are you threatening me?”
“No. Like I said, just giving you some friendly advice.”
“Doesn’t sound all that friendly, Joz. And to think, I used to like you.”
He whipped around and strode away, his spine erect, and a definite swagger that hadn’t been there before.
I narrowed my eyes, watching him go. If the timing was right, I’d bring up my concerns to Aspen tonight. Having Presley Knox intrude on our date didn’t fucking thrill me, but she needed to know if trouble was brewing so she could nip his shitty attitude in the bud before it became a real problem.
Aspen opened the door wearing a black dress that could be described as demure if it weren’t clinging to every inch of her curves.
“Jesus, Spitfire.” I let out a low whistle. “You trying to kill me before the appetizers?”
She gave me that smirk—the one that made my dick far too excited for this early in the evening. “You’re late.”
“Ah, but I had a good reason.” I pulled the bunch of flowers from behind my back. “For you.”
Her brilliant smile sent a flush of heat to my groin. “You’re forgiven.”
Reaching for the flowers, she took them from me and stepped back to let me in. Her place could not be further removed from my sparse loft in London. Warm, inviting, homely, with an abundance of comfy seating, and a bank of windows overlooking Manhattan. “I’ll put these in water, then grab my jacket, and we can go.” She gestured to the nearest couch. “Make yourself comfortable. Won’t be long.”
She disappeared through an archway. Ignoring the offer of a seat, I crossed the room and checked out the view. London would always be my home, but Manhattan had a certain appeal. Not that I could ever move here. Leaving Arthur was not even a question. Being two hours away was bad enough, let alone putting an entire ocean between us.
“They’re gorgeous, Joz.” I turned in time to watch her bury her nose in the blooms and breathe deeply. She set them on the coffee table. “Won’t be a second.”
“Take your time.” My gaze followed her as she moved away once more. Damn, that woman’s arse should be illegal. And the way she swung those hips. Criminal. I glanced at my groin, the thick outline of my dick visible.
“Down boy,” I murmured. “You’re thirty-five. Time to do as you’re fucking told.”
“Ready?”
I looked up, spent a precious two seconds drinking in the fucking beauty before me, then grinned. “For you, I was born ready.”
She rolled her eyes, but a soft smile tugged at the corners of her lips. “You’re what historical romance calls ‘a rake’.”
“And what does contemporary romance call me?”
“A walking red flag.”
“Hmm. Sounds like fun. Red is one of my favorite colors.” I sauntered over to her, taking my time. “Let’s go, Spitfire.” I held out my hand, and she immediately took it. Not a moment of hesitation. I called that a good sign.
“Where are you taking me?”
“Somewhere quiet.” I pulled up the collar on my jacket and tugged the peak of my cap down low.
As we rode the lift down to the lobby, Aspen studied me, thoughtful. “You’re good at that.”
“At what?”
“Being invisible.”
I nodded. “I’ve had a lot of practice.”
“Do you ever wish you were a private citizen who could wander the streets without the risk of getting spotted?”
“All the time, but this is the next best thing. It’s been a while since anyone recognized me if I didn’t want them to.”
The driver of the car service I’d hired for the evening spotted us exiting the building and immediately jumped out of the driver’s side to open the rear door. I waited for Aspen to get situated, then strode around the boot to the other side. Ten minutes later, the car stopped in front of a cozy bistro in downtown Manhattan.
I’d visited here before. Not only did it have the right vibe, but the owner was extraordinarily discreet. He greeted us at the entrance and swept us to a table tucked away in a corner. Candles flickered against dark walls and crisp white tablecloths, and the music was at the right volume to allow conversation while also affording privacy from the next table overhearing our conversation.
Aspen slid along the booth, her complexion radiant. A server brought over a bottle of mineral water and two ice-filled glasses. I declined his offer to pour it for us. As Aspen perused the menu, I twisted the cap off the water and filled her glass, then my own. I couldn’t stop looking at her.
“You’re staring,” she said without looking up.
“Observing,” I corrected. “Making sure I take in all the important details.”
“Such as?”
“The way you nibble your lip when you’re concentrating and tuck your hair behind your ear, only to immediately release it. And how you’re trying not to smile because I noticed.”
She did smile then. “Are you always this smooth?”
“Just warming up, Spitfire.”
“I don’t think that nickname works any longer.”
“How so?”
“You doused the flames with your abundance of charm.”
Fuck, I liked this woman. “I’m sure those flames can surge back to life at a moment’s notice.”
Her sexy grin made me want to do things to her that would get me barred from ever visiting this restaurant again. “Oh, they can.”
“Then, we’ll keep the nickname.”
The evening swept by in a flash. Over her mushroom risotto and my steak frites, I realized I hadn’t felt this comfortable around anyone in a long time. As our plates were cleared away, and she declined the offer of dessert, I refilled our water glasses, took a deep breath, and went for it.
“I want to talk to you about Presley.”
She leaned back in her chair, sipping her water. “What about him?”
“He’ll tell you his version, I’m sure, but I had a little word in his shell-like after you left us earlier.”
“Shell-like?”
“Sorry. British slang for ear.”
“Ah. Every day is a school day. What did you say?”
“I told him you weren’t available.”
She blinked once, twice, a third time, each sweep of her lids slower than the last. “Excuse me?”
“He’s got a crush on you.”
Disbelief, or maybe incredulity, crossed her face. “He’s twenty-one.”
“So?”
“I’m twenty-eight. That’s seven years between us.”
“And I’m thirty-five, which is seven years between us.”
“That’s not the same thing.”
“Why, because I’m the man and I’m older?”
“No. If I was thirty-five and you were twenty-eight, that wouldn’t be a problem. Presley is…” She shook her head. “He’s so… young.”
“He’s a grown man who’s got the hots for a beautiful woman who is smart and kind and funny and engaging. And mine.”
Her head jerked back a couple of inches. “Yours?”
“Yes, mine. And that’s what I told him.”
“We’ve kissed twice, this is our first proper date, and you’re claiming me?”
“I’m setting boundaries.”
“You’re stomping all over boundaries. I belong to myself.”
This was not going well. “I don’t mean mine in the sense that I own you. Just that…” I ran a hand down the back of my head. “I needed to draw a line in the sand for Presley. That kid’s ego is ballooning, and it’s concerning me.”
“He’s finding his feet, that’s all. Let him grow, Joz. Stifling him isn’t the way to deal with a young, over-excited guy who’s living out dreams he probably wished for but never truly thought he would achieve.”
“If this were about anything other than you, I’d agree. You may not be concerned, but I am.”
“Why?”
“I’m territorial.” I wasn’t. Or rather, I hadn’t been. Until her. Maybe it wasn’t Presley’s behavior I should be worried about. It was mine.
“You don’t say.” She put down her water. “Even if what you’re saying is true, I can handle Presley. If he does have a crush on me, so what? My interest in him begins and ends with our professional relationship.”
“Ours began as a professional relationship.”
“Okay, now I know you’re losing it. You’re comparing yourself to Presley.” She chuckled. “This is probably going to inflate your ego, but other than the fact you can both play the guitar and sing, you are nothing alike. I’m not attracted to boys, I’m attracted to men. One man in particular. You.”
Slightly appeased, I dropped the subject of Presley Knox, but despite him being my find, I would be keeping a fucking close eye on that guy. Aspen might think him harmless, but I didn’t. Call it intuition, one guy reading another guy’s intentions, whatever.
I settled the bill, and we returned to the car. Conversation flowed easily, but as the driver stopped outside Aspen’s apartment building, tension stretched between us. Our banter had been borderline heavy flirting the entire evening, but what happened next was up to her. Did I want her to invite me in when we both knew what that meant? Too fucking right I did. Though if she didn’t, I wouldn’t pressure her. I wasn’t that guy. I never had been that guy, even in my early twenties, when women had thrown their underwear at me and stuffed their phone numbers into my pockets.
I kept my seat belt fastened and waited to follow her lead. Although her breathing was steady, there was a definite hitch on each inhale.
“I had a great time.”
I gave her a crooked smile. “So did I.”
Silence.
“Another big day tomorrow.”
This was painful. It was pretty evident she was trying to find a way to end the evening, and not with me buried balls deep inside her. “Yeah.”
“There isn’t going to be any awkwardness between you and Presley is there?”
“Not from my side.” As long as he kept his fucking advances, and his hands, to himself.
“Okay. Good. That’s good.” She unclipped her seat belt. “Um… I don’t suppose… would you like to come up?”
“For coffee?” I was joking. I didn’t want coffee.
A flicker of a smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. “No, for sex.”
My dick twitched as though to say finally. “Thought you were never gonna ask.”
“You clearly weren’t going to.”
“Not my place. You’re the boss, Aspen, and I’m not talking about professionally. I’m following your lead.”
“That may be the greenest flag and greatest way to get into my panties I’ve ever heard.”
“It’s not a line.”
“Then, what are you waiting for?” She opened the car door, then cocked her head, beckoning me. “Come on, stud. Let’s see what you’ve got.”
Heart thudding like a teenager’s, I unclipped my belt and got out of the car. We made it as far as the lift. As soon as the doors closed, she grabbed a fistful of my shirt, yanked me to her, and kissed me. Fast, hard, impulsive.
“You’re not at all what I expected.”
I trailed my fingertips up and down her sides. “Oh, yeah? Good or bad?”
“Good. Definitely good.”
The lift jolted as it stopped, but neither of us moved. She bit her lip, eyes blazing. The doors slid open, and still, we stood there. “You coming?”
“Oh, Spitfire.” I growled, low and rough. “I’m coming everywhere.”
She grabbed my hand and led me into her apartment like she owned me, because in that moment she absolutely fucking did.
And I was happy to let her.
Chapter 19
Aspen
If I’d known it was this good, I’d have
given in weeks ago.
The second Joz entered my apartment, I shoved him against the wall and kissed him like I wanted to swallow him whole. No build-up, no soft, breathless kisses, just tongue, teeth, and blazing need.
It’d been far too long since I’d had sex, and the last time I’d done it had left me feeling empty inside. A one-night stand where the guy did not like being dominated, but had no fucking clue how to dominate. Joz would know, yet he was happy to let me take the lead, and I was feral for it.
He gripped my ass in both hands, grinding me against the hard length of him. “You been thinking about this all night?”
“All night? How about for weeks.”
“You ached for me, Spitfire?” He nibbled my earlobe.
I tore at his shirt, buttons popping. “Yes. Christ, yes.” I fumbled with his pants. “Take these off.”
A low groan echoed through his chest. “You fucking turn me on when you boss me around.”
“That’s lucky, because I don’t intend to stop.”
He released me, but only to yank down his pants and boxers. He kicked them off and shrugged out of his shirt. I lowered my gaze, and my entire midsection flipped over and over like a slinky careening down the stairs.
“Jacob’s Ladder,” I husked.
“Yeah. Worried?”
“No.” I reached out, tracing each individual bar and reveling in the way his cock jumped with each brush of my fingers. “So fucking hard.”
His fingers threaded into my hair, tugging just enough to make my breath catch. “I’ve been hard for you since that first day in London. The way your nipples poked through your wet dress, yet I couldn’t tongue them and bite them, and it—you—haunted my fucking dreams for weeks.”
God, that cocky tone, that filthy mouth. I wrapped my hand around the base of him, the cool steel of his piercings digging into my palm. He groaned, dropping his forehead to mine.
“Get naked.”
“Ah, ah. I’m in charge. I’ll strip when I’m good and ready.” I moved my hand up to the next rung, squeezing lightly.
“You’re killing me,” he whispered, cords protruding in his neck as he fought for control. “Keep teasing me, Spitfire, and I’m going to fuck you so hard you’ll forget your own name.”
