AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“You need to go,” he managed as she dripped a few drops of champagne around his nipple and let out a husky laugh. “I’m not kidding, Tabitha. I don’t know how you got in here, but it’s breaking and entering. I was asleep, goddammit.”
“Aw, sugar, I hate when you throw around accusations. Especially when we both know you gave me this key,” she lifted a long necklace hidden by her towel, “a couple weeks ago and told me to use it. Actually, you begged me.” She circled her bright pink fingernail around the sensitive peak she’d just drizzled with bubbly and he barely restrained a hiss. “You said how you get so lonely out on the road. That you hate sleeping alone on the bus but it would make you feel so much better to have a girl waiting for you in your bed. One who would keep the home fires burning.” She let go of the key and reached for the knot in her towel. The terrycloth parted and her luscious body came into full, glorious view. And fuck it all, his balls clenched. “Wanna see how warm I can get for you?”
It was just a line, and a cheesy one at that. Christ, he didn’t remember telling her any of that, but she had a key. She was in the apartment. He did get lonely on the road, especially on the nights where his bandmates had company and he didn’t. Besides, sex wasn’t enough. Sure, it filled the hole now and then, but he was just as hungry a couple of hours later.
The worst part was he didn’t know what he wanted. He loved sex, and he had friends. He even had friends he’d had sex with, which should have been the best of both worlds. But it just wasn’t. And now Lila wanted him to stop doing even that. Not his bandmates. They had it all under control, according to her. He was the tabloid bait. The one who was getting known for all the wrong reasons.
The one who had a gorgeous girl in his bed who he couldn’t fuck because he was thinking about his stepmom being displeased with his choices, and wasn’t that frigging rich.
“I must’ve been drunk.” He swallowed hard, allowing himself only the briefest glance at Tabitha’s perfectly rounded tits and large brown nipples before he met her gaze. “I don’t remember telling you any of that. I definitely don’t remember giving you a key. I wouldn’t have done that if I’d been in my right mind. The last thing I want is for you to—”
“To what? Get the wrong idea? To think that maybe you want me to climb on top of you and ride this big dick until we both come our brains out?”
The fact that she was practically screaming those questions near his ear in her raspy voice should’ve turned down the arousal factor. Instead, his cock was starting to throb. Of course the soft, warm breast pushing into his upper arm wasn’t helping matters.
Jesus.
“You’re almost married.” He pushed himself up to a sitting position and twitched the sheet back over his jutting erection. “You shouldn’t be here. Did anyone see you come in?” He shoved a hand through his spiky hair and shut his eyes at the sticky shit he couldn’t move his fingers through. Damn gel. He’d meant to take a shower when he came in last night, but nope, he’d collapsed on the bed facedown and hadn’t moved until morning.
He glanced at the clock on the bedside. Make that afternoon. Past two. Shit, he had rehearsal today, and they were supposed to be taking off for Vegas first thing tomorrow.
His head hurt like a bitch too. Tension headache. Band tension, Tabitha tension, Lila tension—God, who even knew what was causing most of the pressure that had descended on his life all of a sudden?
It was all too much too fast, when this was everything he’d ever wanted.
Minus Tabitha shooting death rays at him while he tried to remember in which room he’d dropped his pants.
“You don’t need to worry about my marriage. I’m not looking for a counselor.”
“No, you want a sugar daddy on the side, to go with the one who gave you that ring.” He inclined his chin at the huge honking rock on her left hand. A sapphire surrounded by diamonds.
His dad had given his mother a sapphire engagement ring. If that didn’t prove they were bad omens, then nothing did.
She snatched back her hand. “Oh, and is that supposed to be you? You’re a struggling artist. You can barely take care of yourself, never mind me.” She rolled her eyes and threw out a hand to encompass his master suite. “Look at this place.”
He glanced from the snowy white linens on the California King size bed to the heavy Queen Anne-style furniture that dominated the room. The French doors off the room went to a balcony that gave a gorgeous view of the ocean in the distance. The apartment wasn’t quite up to penthouse-level, but considering rents in the area, he was doing okay.
And fuck it all, it was his. Paid for on his dime, not his father’s. He was no longer a kept son, meant to sit down and shut up. Most of all, he’d been expected to pretend he agreed with everything his dictator of a dad had to say. He was making his own way now.
That also meant he didn’t have to prove himself to anyone. If Tabitha thought his standards were below her, well, then that was just fine, since he doubted they could even be friendly after this mess.
“Yes, look at it. To you, it may not be much. Senator’s wife-to-be and all. To me, it’s everything. I got here on my own, and I’m going to continue to build.” He threw his legs over the side of the bed and grabbed the sheet, wrapping it around himself toga-style.
She spluttered, apparently not liking being left sheetless although she’d been so damn intent on getting naked. “You’re going to regret tossing me out. I don’t give second chances.”
Michael crossed his arms over his chest. The champagne was still drying on his skin. “Yeah, well, let’s hope your fiancé does, after you’ve dragged his name through the dirt with all your chasing after me and God knows who else.”
She had the decency to direct her gaze at her left hand, now clutching her towel—his towel—to her chest. “Is it so hard to believe I thought we had a connection?”
“Even if we did, what kind of guy would I be to get with you while you’re hooked up with another man? You know what they say—how she did the last guy is how she’ll do you next time.”
“You know what? Forget it. If you want to pretend you’re no longer into me, that’s fine. I don’t have to beg for scraps.” She rose from the bed, still holding the champagne bottle. At least she’d brought that, since he rarely drank the stuff and definitely didn’t stock it. “You’ll regret treated me so harshly the next time you’re on that bus and w
ishing you weren’t all by your miserable self.” She yanked off the key necklace around her neck and tossed it in the middle of his bed before flouncing out the door.
A moment later, he heard the front door slam in her wake.
He rubbed his forehead and stumbled into the bathroom. Yep, he looked as bad as he thought. He needed a piss, a shave and a shower, in that order.
