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And everything to do with needing to kiss him again more than she needed to take her next breath.
The security guard stationed outside Drew's dressing room knew her on sight and smiled. "Go on in. He's expecting you."
This world of backstage bodyguards that had once seemed so foreign to her was now practically normal. When she'd joined Drew's tour, she'd had no idea just how far and wide her education would go--on all fronts, both business and personal.
She'd barely opened the dressing room door when she was yanked inside. Her breath went as Drew simultaneously pulled her into his arms and locked the door behind her. His mouth crashed into hers a beat later, his kiss ravenous. Desperate.
Perfect.
His hands roving greedily over her body aroused her just as much as his lips did. God, she loved stroking her tongue across his. Loved, too, the rough, raw, seriously yummy sound of his groan as she kissed him back just as greedily.
"There were too many hours without you today, Ash." His hands gripped her hips tightly, holding her flush against him as if he didn't want any space there at all. "I missed you."
"I missed you, too." She wanted to kiss him again, but first she needed to know, "How was your recording session?"
"Really good. But it would have been better if you were there. Everything is better when you're there."
The next thing she knew, he was lifting her up, then placing her on the table in front of the mirror. He was so much bigger than she was, and so strong, that he was able to pick her up as if she weighed nothing at all. He slid off her jean jacket so that he could run hot kisses over every inch of the bare skin of her shoulders and arms that he'd just revealed.
She only had two dresses--the simple white one she'd been wearing when she fell into the pool and the fancier pink one Valentina had given her. When he began to run his hands slowly up from her bare calves, she was really glad she'd decided to wear the white dress tonight. There truly was nothing as good as Drew's hands on her skin. Only his mouth could trump it.
"You taste so good," he murmured against her lips as he slid his hands up to her thighs. "I need to taste more of you. Now."
There was nothing she wanted more than for Drew to do just that. But the good girl still hovering inside of her couldn't help but remind him, "You're on in five minutes."
"I know," he said as he knelt on the ground in front of her and slipped his fingers beneath the sides of her panties, "but I won't be able to make it through my show tonight if I don't get to at least taste you now."
She helped him lift her hips so that he could draw the fabric down her legs and off over her feet. Yes, the clock was ticking, but so was her body--a sensual bomb that was on the verge of detonation. Just as soon as Drew--
Oh God.
His mouth.
His tongue.
His hands.
Her head fell back against the mirror behind her as she tried to remember that there were people outside the dressing room who would hear her if she moaned too loudly. But as Drew's tongue and fingers played over her sex like the maestro that he was, it was nearly impossible to keep her pleasure to herself.
"Gorgeous." He whispered the word against her overheated skin. "Mine."
That final word--along with the perfect flick of his tongue--was all it took for her to start breaking apart. She threaded her hands into his hair and, through her lashes, stared in wonder at the beautiful man kneeling between her legs.
"Yours," she gasped as he drew her orgasm out with both his mouth and fingers.
After the last blissful aftershock had finally rumbled through her, Drew looked up at her with eyes so dark with heat and full of intense desire that she lost her breath all over again. She searched her pleasure-drenched brain for something to say that would let him know just how good he made her feel.
But just then, a loud knock sounded on the door. "It's James. They're ready for you out there, Drew."
Drew didn't rush to head to the stage. Instead, he threaded his hands into her hair and kissed her again. His kiss was still hungry, but alongside desire was so much emotion it overwhelmed her. Or maybe it was tasting herself on his lips, his tongue, that pushed her into overload territory.
All she knew was that, for a moment, she felt as though she were drowning. She simply didn't have enough experience with things like this to know what to think or how to feel about everything that was happening. Especially not when it was all happening so darn fast.
Drew helped her down from the table and gently smoothed her skirt over her bare skin. When she walked out of the dressing room, would people be able to guess what had happened just from looking at her? Or would she still look like the good girl she'd been up until approximately twenty-four hours ago?
"Do you have any idea how happy you make me, Ash?"
Louder knocks sounded. "Drew," James called, "you've got sixty seconds to get your ass out there before the audience starts to lose it."
He gave her one last kiss, and the last thing she saw was his huge grin before he headed out the door to go and be a rock star.
Without his arms around her, her legs felt wobbly. The truth was, her insides did, too. Not because Drew had made her feel anything other than special and precious...but exactly for that reason. He seemed to care about her so much on all fronts--not only when they were making love, but when they were talking about business or family, too. And she'd never felt this good, or this happy, before.
But she remembered hearing her mother saying to her father once how happy she was. That happiness had quickly spun toward hatred because her parents were so different.
Standing in the dressing room, Ashley knew she should be heeding those memories. She shouldn't be forgetting the hard-learned lessons of her childhood and giving herself so wholly, so completely to someone so very different from herself. But letting down her guard for a couple of days--or weeks--wouldn't destroy her, would it? Their connection was intense and wonderful, and of course she hoped they'd remain friends even after the tour was over. And at least she wasn't foolish enough to think that what was between them now would last forever.
With a now that was this utterly, blissfully, mind-blowingly incredible, couldn't she let herself enjoy every second of it without letting her worries and concerns get the best of her? Especially since it had been only twenty-four hours since making love with Drew for the first time.
She heard the screams of the crowd amp up and knew he must have just taken the stage. Not wanting to miss a second of his show, she looked for her underwear so that she could put it back on and head out of the room. But she couldn't find them anywhere. Had Drew taken her panties with him when he left to go play his show?
Between knowing she was bare beneath her skirt as she headed toward the stage with the security guard silently accompanying her--and wondering if Drew actually was on stage with her panties in his pocket--her arousal immediately ramped back up.
Throughout the show, one that was so spellbinding she felt as if she were watching him perform for the very first time, Drew's gaze kept returning to her again and again, just the way it had during his interviews that morning. She blushed even more tonight than she had then. Blushed and fantasized about all the ways she wanted to give Drew pleasure, just as he'd given her so much pleasure again and again.
She'd known she was pretty darn innocent before she and Drew had made love, but every time they'd come together had only proven it more. Every delicious moment in Drew's arms was an epiphany.
"He's on fire tonight, isn't he?" James asked in the space between songs.
His question broke through her naughty thoughts, and her cheeks flamed at the way she was standing backstage mentally stripping off Drew's clothes. Just because she knew every other woman in the audience was doing the same thing didn't make her any less cool-headed about it.
"He really is." Drew's show tonight was truly spectacular, as if he had unearthed a new and even bigger well of creativity on stage in the same way that he seemed
to have found his writing mojo.
"Like I said before, you're good for him, Ashley. He hasn't been happy in a long time. Not until you showed up."
Ashley wasn't egotistical--or delusional--enough to think that Drew's huge breakthrough had come about entirely because of her. But she was beyond happy that she might have played at least a small part in helping him feel better about everything. "He deserves to be happy."
"So do you," James said as the next song started up.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Two hours later, she was about to head back toward the meet-and-greet rooms when James told her, "They're a little behind on setting up for the fans tonight. Can you let Drew know he's got fifteen minutes before he needs to head back?"
Drew's guitar was still slung around his neck when he walked over to Ashley, the hunger in his eyes barely banked. She wanted to reach for him, wanted to kiss him, but she couldn't do any of that and still keep what they were doing a secret.
"You have fifteen minutes before they'll be ready for you to meet your fans." She'd never been the aggressor before, but just as he'd said he'd never make it through the show if he didn't get at least a taste of her, she suddenly knew she'd never make it through the meet and greet if she didn't get a taste of him.
Thank God they seemed to be of one mind as they headed toward his dressing room. Ashley could barely keep herself from sprinting.
