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Finally, terrifyingly, the three of them were truly alone.
The recording studio was small and cave-like with its dim lighting and padded walls. There was so little space to spread out, forcing the three of them into a tight area together. By now, night had fallen. They were all frazzled from hours of concentration, but none of them wanted to tap out yet. Inside the insulated studio, time was of little consequence anyway. A strange, thick tension filled the air.
He glanced over at Giselle. She was sitting on the edge of his desk, her guitar balanced in her lap. She strummed it and sang softly, her voice so whisper-light he couldn’t detect the words. Vibrato thrummed through her body. He could feel it through the desk. She had shed her hoodie to reveal the simple black tank top underneath. Her breasts were so full and unrestrained, her nipples poking through the thin fabric. Her black hair fell over her face and Asher couldn’t stop himself from reaching out to push it behind her ear.
She stopped singing and looked at him, her pupils dilating at his touch.
“Sorry,” he whispered. “Reflex.”
“It’s… it’s okay,” she murmured. Her cheeks flushed pink and she suddenly yanked away, groaning with frustration.
“What’s wrong now?” Blaze asked, looking up from his notepad.
“Nothing. I’m fine. Shut up,” she snapped.
“Jeez. You’re so damn prickly all the time,” he replied.
She threw up her hands. “How can I focus with you two hanging around?”
“Whoa, what did we do? Asher’s just sitting there. I’m just sitting here,” he said.
She looked over at Asher, her eyes bright with meaning.
“Don’t act like you don’t feel it,” she confessed bitterly.
“Feel what?” Asher pressed in a soft voice.
“Come on. Don’t make me say it,” Giselle lamented. “I’m not crazy.”
“You keep saying that, but I haven’t believed you yet,” Blaze teased.
“You can’t talk to me that way.” She rounded on him. “You two have been driving me up the damn wall and making my thoughts all confused, not to mention my crazy-ass dreams—”
“Dreams?” questioned Asher.
“About us?” added Blaze.
Giselle’s pretty face was red. “Oh, like you guys haven’t been thinking about me, too!”
Blaze looked slightly panicked for a second, then regained his swagger and claimed, “Nope. Nothing unprofessional. We were hired to do a job, and you’re the job.”
She paused for a second, then the distress on her face melted into a sly, seductive smile. Giselle stood up and set her guitar down. She slowly walked backward, away from them. Like she was enticing them to come after her. She slipped one strap of her tank top off her shoulder.
In a voice that felt like velvet, Giselle murmured, “So do it, then. Come do me.”
