Bound to Please(82)

He watched her face as she came. Her eyes closed, her mouth spread in a wide smile. It was so beautiful he followed quickly, jerking her to him so he could pump into her body, letting the little contractions of her inner walls milk every last drop from him.

She collapsed on top of him and he held her like that, until both of their breathing returned to normal.

He had to convince her that they could make this work. Suddenly his career, the band, seemed so much less important than keeping this connection with the girl in his arms.

“Listen, Ruby. We have to talk.”

She said against his chest, “I’m exhausted, I can’t think.”

“But there are things—”

She yawned. “It’s been a tiring night. Can we just go home?” She snuggled deeper against him. “I know we need to talk. After tonight, I can’t ignore my feelings for you any longer…”

She went quiet, and after a minute he realized she’d dozed off. He kissed her forehead and picked her up. They could talk later, in the morning. Really, he just needed to assure her that he could balance his career and a relationship with her. And he needed to reassure her that she was a strong enough person to deal with it.

She was barely conscious as he got her clothes, dressed her, led her to the limo and took her home. And she was still asleep when they arrived, so he dug the keys out of her bag and carried her into the apartment. In her room, he stripped off her clothes and laid her under the covers. She murmured a thank-you but was snoring softly within seconds.

He stifled a laugh. He’d just discovered one of her imperfections.

Pulling off his clothes, he undressed and climbed in beside her, pulled her into his arms. Soon he joined her in a deep, dreamless sleep. But when the bright rays of the sun woke him in the morning, Ruby was gone.





Chapter

Twenty-Four

This place looks amazing.”

Ruby looked up from where she’d been arranging a bunch of twigs. She wore one of her typical prim dresses—this time in a soft blue—and her hair was pulled back. The only thing that gave away her sensual side was the sexy shoes on her dainty feet.

Hugging the clipboard to her chest, she beamed at him.

It was the day of the Spring Fling, and Mark had stopped by to check the stage. That, and he wanted an excuse to see Ruby. She’d been out the door before he’d dragged his ass out of bed, so this was the first time he’d seen her since last night.

The event was being held in an old theater, a building originally built as a movie theater in the 1930s. There was a small stage, behind which red velvet draped from the floor to the ceiling. Round tables had been set up on the floor, and each table had been decorated with gold twigs and leaves. With the brightly colored linens and china, the place looked like something out of a movie.

She placed her clipboard on the stage and began arranging a vase of iridescent feathers. “So. Are you ready for tonight?” she asked as she played with the feathers.

“Yeah.” He was ready for the show; it was afterward he was having trouble wrapping his head around. “Listen, I have some bad news.”

She glanced over her shoulder. “What is it?”

He ran a hand over his face. This was even harder than he’d thought. “You know the band January Blues?”

She rolled her eyes. “Um, yeah. Even I’ve heard of them. They’re huge.”

“Yeah. They just dropped out of a European tour they’re doing with two other bands, and we’ve been asked to replace them.”

Her smile faltered but only for a second. “That’s wonderful.” She turned back to her arrangement. “When do you leave?”

“Tomorrow.”

She froze but didn’t look up. “Wow. Tomorrow. That’s so… soon.”

He put his hand on her shoulder. “I know.” He squeezed her shoulder and felt how small she was, how fragile. “We can talk on the phone. E-mail. We can make it work.”

Her body went tight under his hand. “Okay, sure.”

He turned her around and met her watery gaze. “You remember how much you trusted me last night?”

She nodded.

“You need to do that now. You need to trust me. I won’t let you down.”

“Mr. St. Crow?”

It took him a minute to drag his gaze from hers. A man was jogging toward them. He looked a few years older than Mark. His brown hair was cut neatly, and he wore khaki pants and a blue button-down shirt. When he reached them, he held out his hand. “I’m James Cleaver.”

Mark shook it. “Nice to meet you.”

The man bounced on the balls of his feet. “My employees are ecstatic about tonight! We can’t wait.”