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“Don’t flatter yourself.”
He dragged her back, curling his arm across her belly. “You’re not the only one who wants to make it go away. But it’s not going to. It would be easier if we could just walk away with the itch scratched.”
She stiffened. “You are not part of my five year plan, Logan.”
“Plans change.” He turned her around to face him. “Five years is a long time. Let’s start with five days and see where things go.”
She searched his face. Direct eyes—tired eyes. But there was an openness there that she hadn’t been expecting. He hauled her into his chest and laced his hands at the base of her spine.
The corner of her mouth kicked up. “Five days, huh?”
He nuzzled her nose. “At least give me until the end of the festival. Then we can see what’s what.”
“Okay.” She sighed into him, melted against him, because it felt too good not to. The music was still playing around them even though she’d blanked out on any song after he’d kissed her, and especially after he’d touched her. Blake Shelton’s honeyed voice urged her to lay her head against his chest and let him hold her. “You surprise me.”
“Why?”
“Super pop rock star listening to so much country.”
“Ouch. Pop?”
She grinned up at him. “You know you’re pop. I miss your old stuff, to be honest.” She winced. “Probably not smart to say.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. ‘Tipping Point’ was the song that got me.”
“God. A lifetime ago.” He laughed and the sound rumbled under her cheek.
She settled against him again, easier now. Her body still felt deliciously abused, but her jumpy nerves had calmed. “All that angst-laden music in your twenties. And me in my teens.”
He groaned. “Don’t remind me. I was an angry kid with no sense. All I cared about was getting away from that boyband image.”
“Then why are you going back to it?” When he said nothing, she wanted to saw her tongue off with her own teeth. Like she knew anything about him. Cripes, Bella. Way to go. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”
“No, you’re fine. You’re right. Probably why I’ve been playing every other song but my own for this festival.” He rested his chin on the top of her head. “Zeke and I keep getting invited to work with younger and younger people. And that’s where the sound is going.”
“So, worry about your own sound.”
He dragged his palm up her back then made a return trip with the tips of his fingers. “Easier said than done.”
She pressed her nose into the center of his chest and dragged in his vanilla spice scent one last time before she took a step back. “You’re Logan fucking King. You can do whatever the hell you want.”
He grinned down at her, the tip of his tongue bumping against the back of his teeth. “Damn right.”
That image wasn’t going to leave her anytime soon. Easy and genuine, the man was nothing but smiles now. Good sex did that, obviously, because she was smiling right back at him. “You, my friend, need to bring me home. I have a long day tomorrow. Sharon will be knocking on my door first thing in the morning.”
“Can I stay?”
“Nope. I need to sleep. And if I bring you up to my room, there will be no sleeping.”
His eyebrow rose, giving him a rakish look. “And the problem is?”
She pushed him back another step. “The problem is, I need to be functioning and not stuck in Orgasmlandia for another six hours.”
“Six hours? Try eight.”
