“But—”
He gave her hair a gentle tug, and fuck it, her sex clenched from the sharp pain. Like a puppet, she responded to his every touch.
“Listen, Ruby. I want you.”
“Here I am. Take me!” She wiggled a bit against his body as a prompt.
His eyes searched hers, darting back and forth. “I want more than a quickie against a wall. I want the night with you. And I have a feeling you want more, too.”
Everything in her froze. “Like what? What do you think I could possibly want?”
Leaning in, he kissed her earlobe. “I think you want to give yourself over to me. I think you want to feel my hand on your ass. I think you want to know what it would be like to be owned by me. Just for one night.”
Speechless, she stared over his shoulder at the jasmine growing in a pot in the corner. She bit the inside of her cheek. He was wrong, so wrong. She so did not want those things.
So why was she trembling? Why was her pussy throbbing just from those simple words? Why were her nipples tingling beneath her satin bra?
And, most important, why were her insides melting into a puddle of lust with each passing second he breathed against her ear?
This was such a bad idea.
But the alternative was going home to her vibrator, which sounded much less appealing.
“Fine. I’ll go,” she said.
Her reward was another kiss that blew away any reasonable thoughts left in her head.
He slid her down his body and put her on her feet. Then he straightened her skirt and fastened one button between her breasts. How could he look so controlled when she felt anything but?
And then, with his hand, he encircled her throat, his palm pressing against her clavicle, and something calmed inside her. His eyes were dark as they drilled into hers. “I’ll leave a pass at the door. There will be a spot reserved for you near the stage. Where I can see you.”
“Yes,” she breathed, loving the way his hand enclosed her neck. Loving everything.
“I’ll tell the bartender to have a drink waiting for you. If any men approach you tonight, I want you to ignore them. Do you understand?”
She nodded. She couldn’t help herself. She liked the feelings Mark had set off inside her too much to say anything at all, especially the word no.
Pinned to the wall, his large hand on her throat, she sank into him as he kissed her again. His mouth gently belied the rough grip he had on her body, and the juxtaposition of sensation nearly killed her.
How could she deny herself this? After all, it was just one night.
Chapter
Three
You scared her,” Mark said.
From across the limo, Yvette grinned. “Did not.”
“You did. I’m a big boy, you know. I can take care of myself.”
She shrugged and shook back her hair. “I just don’t trust all these girls coming out of the woodwork. It gets worse every day.”
Mark ignored the bite of irritation he felt at Yvette’s words. “Ruby isn’t like that. She’s an event planner. She was just doing her job.”
Yvette barked a laugh. “Fucking you is part of her job description? Nice work if you can get it.”
“You always get testy before a big show. Don’t take it out on me.”
Pulling a bottle of wine out of a built-in chiller, she poured herself a glass. “Isn’t she a bit old for you?”
“I didn’t notice.”
“At least she seems to be aging well.”
“Fuck off.”
If Ruby was older, it didn’t bother him at all. In fact, as he approached thirty, he was starting to look for more mature women, women who knew what they wanted and didn’t play games.
“I would if I could,” Yvette said. It was just the two of them in the limo. Their third band member, Jake, had to get to every show early to double-check that his drums hadn’t been fucked with. Jake got a bit OCD when it came to his drums, which was funny because the guy was so relaxed about pretty much everything else.
Yvette took a deep swallow of wine. After a minute she said in a softer tone, “You’re right. I’m sorry. This effing stage fright is killing me.”
“You know the more freaked out you are, the better you perform.”
She grunted and drained the rest of her wine.
Mark was the opposite. He got off on the crowd, and the bigger the better. The only other time he felt such a rush was when he was giving a woman pleasure through domination. Which was what he wanted to do to Ruby. Later. If she’d let him.
She would.
Adrenaline raced through his veins, releasing a rush that hit him like a drug. She’d done this to him, riled him up. He tapped his booted foot on the floor of the limo, unable to keep still. Between Ruby’s response to him and the upcoming gig, he was pumped. Ready.