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I soaped the other leg, turned her around, and soaped her flat stomach. Her hair was still in an updo, so I unpinned it, and it tumbled over her shoulders and down to her waist. “I hadn’t realized it was so long,” I said in awe. “Why don’t you ever wear it loose?”
“Gets in the way. I prefer to braid it.”
I squirted shampoo into the palm of my hand and rubbed it into her scalp. Rinsed it off with the hand-held nozzle then applied conditioner and rinsed again.
“Your turn, Limey.” She retrieved the sponge and bodywash, then started to soap me, and it took every ounce of my willpower not to stiffen like a fucking rod.
“Jesus, Yankee Girl. You’re testing my resilience.” I grabbed the sponge off her, quickly soaped myself, and then stood under the shower head.
“Bedtime,” I said, turning off the tap. “Why don’t you stay in my room for a change?”
“Our hair is soaking wet. Do you have a dryer?”
I shook my head.
“I’ll go get mine.” She stepped out of the shower, reached for a towel and wrapped it around herself.
Back in my room, I picked up the discarded clothes from the carpet and slung them on the back of a chair. Then I rummaged for a pair of sleep shorts in my chest of drawers, mulling over what just happened. No one would believe that I, Pierce Fox, had showered with a woman without fucking her. If this got out, I’d never live it down.
Hayley returned, looking so fucking cute in her pajamas. Pink bottoms with a peach motif and a white top with the slogan ‘Peachy’. I could eat her up she was so ripe for plucking, but I kept my hands by my sides.
After she’d blow dried my hair, she got on with drying hers and then braided it in a loose plait. One day, she’d sleep with me and leave it unbraided, I swore to myself, and I’d revel in the sight of it spread over my pillow.
I took in a deep breath, coming to a snap decision. We needed to take things one step further.
“I wanna sleep with you skin to skin tonight. Nothing more. I promise…”
Her expression turned pensive and she tapped a finger against her lip. “Why?”
“I need to feel you.” Pretend indifference. “Doesn’t matter if you’re not up for it.”
Her amber eyes glowed. “I think I’d like that.”
“Cool.”
Gently, I lifted her top off and I had to restrain myself from cupping her beautiful breasts. One thing I’d learned about Hayley…she couldn’t be rushed. She was like a fine Bourbon that I would savor. Sip after intoxicating sip.
I pulled back the duvet on my king-sized bed and the mattress dipped as we both got in. She rolled toward me and we lay face to face.
“Did you enjoy the gig tonight?” I slid my hands over her bare shoulders.
“It was awesome.” She paused, fixed her gaze on mine. “Why haven’t you told the band that you’re writing?”
“My songs are too dark for ChiMera.” Like my past. “And they’re still too rough.”
I spread my arms and she came into them, pressing herself against me. “I miss my Dad,” she sighed.
“I know.” And I did know. I knew only too well.
But the feel of her warm skin against mine consoled me, and I hoped she too felt some consolation from being up close. My fingers toyed with the band of her pajama bottoms, my pulse quickening when she didn’t resist. I slid my hands up the sides of her lovely body. I almost stroked her tits but stopped myself and pulled her tight against me.
“Good night, Hayley,” I whispered.
“Good night, Pierce,” she whispered back.
Skin on skin, we drifted off together. It felt right. Beautifully right. My last thought, before sleep took me, was that weirdly I hadn’t craved alcohol once tonight.Chapter 15HayleyBack to living out of a suitcase, I groaned as I packed my shit for the tour. Only, this time, it would be different. This time, I’d be staying with Pierce in luxurious suites instead of my usual single room. My stomach fluttered. Not only would I be ‘taking care’ of him, but, in the eyes of the world, we would be a couple.
I chewed at my lip, doubt overwhelming me. How could I have let him persuade me into this charade? I’d always considered myself to be level-headed. But the truth was, this past week, Pierce had turned my heart to freaking mush. And, when he kissed me, I wanted him with a razor-sharp urgency. Nothing had ever felt as good as his big warm hands gliding over my skin. I wanted his thrusting tongue, wanted his chest pushed hard against my breasts, wanted the feel of his thick, long wavy hair rippling around my fingers. Our kisses could have short-circuited a power plant, yet the thought of going any further still made me wanna run for the hills.
