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She shrugged her shoulders in an attempt to dislodge the yearning invading her. Despite the fact that his smile made her blaze inside, he was nothing more than a warm body to her as well. But he was a warm body who could play the keyboard for her tonight.
She cleared her throat again. “I’m really sorry I interrupted. I just stopped by to finalize the plans for tonight.”
“Tonight?”
She let out a huff. “Yes, tonight. You’re playing keyboard for my band, remember?”
He smirked. Damn him, he was still gorgeous when he smirked!
“I don’t recall agreeing to that.”
“I don’t recall giving you choice. You owe me, remember?”
He stood and rolled his clear green eyes upward. “Baby, if there’s one thing I’m certain of, it’s that I don’t owe you, or anyone like you, a goddamn thing.”
Jane’s skin prickled as anger surged through her. “You’re not letting me down, damn it. Play for me tonight, I get an agent, and I’m out of your hair forever.”
He inched toward her. She trembled, nearly dropping the glass coffee pot.
“What if I don’t want you out of my hair, Jane Rock? What if I want to fuck your brains out right on top of my Steinway?”
She widened her eyes. Her heart riveted. “What?”
“You heard me.”
Oh she’d heard him all right. Though she longed to fling herself into his muscular arms, words emerged on her lips. “Are you crazy? That Steinway must have cost a hundred grand!”
His lips curved into a lopsided grin. “Closer to two hundred, but it’s a little plain, don’t you think? Could use some ornamentation. Your naked body would look rather nice draped over
it.”
Flutters raced through her tummy and settled between her legs. Why did he do this? Act like he hated her one minute and then come on to her the next? And why didn’t she possess more strength against his charms? Which really weren’t charms at all. He wasn’t a nice man. “I…”
“At a loss for words, Janie?” He inched forward again, slowly, until only a foot separated him. Heat radiated from him.
Or was it from her own body? “No…it’s just…” She shook her head to clear it. “You know I need a keyboardist tonight—”
“Pianist.”
“Yes, pianist. Whatever. Fuck.” She sighed. Maybe it was better not to keep telling him he owed her, even though he did. That seemed to piss him off. “I don’t just need a keyboardist. Or a pianist. I need you, Chandler. The audience loved you. You’re amazing. Please?”
He closed the gap between them, took the empty coffee pot from her hands, and set it on the floor. “Maybe we can make a deal.”
“What do you want?”
His eyes blazed. “I thought I already made that clear. I want to fuck you on my Steinway.”
Red heat scorched through her. Was she angry? Or turned-on? Both, it seemed. “I’m not a whore,” she said, willing her voice not to crack. “I won’t barter my sexual favors for your time tonight.”
His grin broadened. “Don’t think of it as any kind of payment. It’s more like you scratch my back and I scratch yours. It’ll be an enjoyable little interlude for both of us. And you will enjoy it, trust me.”
Of that she had no doubt. He was clearly a master of seduction. She’d learned that yesterday.
“The fact is, I want you,” he continued. “I don’t want to want you, but I do. I haven’t stopped thinking about you.” One long finger slowly trailed up her forearm. “You’re not my type at all0”—he shook his head—“but damned if I can get you out of my head.”
His soft touch in the crease of her elbow made her shudder. Just a graze, yet wetness dripped into her panties. “So if I…sleep with you—”
He let out a harsh sigh. “I hate euphemisms, baby. This isn’t sleeping together. This isn’t making love. This is a fuck, pure and simple. You’re hot. I want to fuck you.”
