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Recklessness pulsed through her veins. Made her skin flush hot, then cold.
She licked her lips and swallowed past the dryness in her throat. “You’re always in control,” she said. “Of your emotions. Your music. Do you ever let go, Zac?” She didn’t recognize the breathy, seductive tone of her voice. “Everyone needs to lose control sometimes.” She reached out and trailed her fingers down the side of his face.
He stared up at her, his eyes flaring, hands clenching where they rested on his thighs. She dropped to her knees between his legs.
“What are you doing?” he repeated, but his voice rasped.
“I’m helping you to let go. Just for a few minutes. Let me do this for you.” Her hands went to the button of his jeans, and she flipped it open. He inhaled sharply as she eased the fly down slowly. He gripped her wrist, and she thought he was going to tell her no. But he surprised her. “It shouldn’t be here.”
“Why not? Don’t tell me there haven’t been plenty of women down on their knees in front of you right where I am.” She steeled herself against the stab of jealousy in her chest. She knew the reality of the rock star lifestyle.
Zac’s jaw hardened. “It’s not the same.”
“It’s exactly the same. I’m offering this to you.”
He shook his head, a short, sharp jerk. “Those were just transactions. I got something, they got something.”
“And?”
“And you’re not looking for bragging rights, are you?”
“I want something all the same.”
His fingers flexed around her wrist. “What do you want?”
“I want to see you let go again. I want to be the one to give you that.”
“You give too much of yourself.” Even as he said it, his hand loosened.
Cassie kept her eyes fixed on his as she hooked her fingers in the waistband of his jeans and tugged. Excitement thrilled through her when he gave in and lifted his hips. She dragged the jeans down over his thighs until he was sitting there in only his black boxer briefs.
Even though she’d been the one to push the issue, her skin prickled with heat at what she was doing. The others were only a few feet away in the sleeping area. Maggie was up in the front, driving. And yet, she couldn’t have stopped for anything right then. The craving was too strong. The need to have her hands on him again, to give him pleasure, to see him lost to her touch, the way she’d been lost to his. He was so wrong if he thought she wouldn’t get something out of this.
“Take your shirt off,” she said. A surge of satisfaction flowed through her when he reached over his back, gripped his T-shirt, and pulled it over his head.
Cassie sat back on her heels to take him in. He was beautiful. The most beautiful man she’d ever seen, with his sculpted muscles and smooth, tanned skin. The enticing happy trail leading down toward the swell of his erection now only confined by his underwear.
The anticipation of what she wanted to do made Cassie’s mouth water. Zac’s breathing deepened as she took her time looking at him. She met his gaze again, wanting to see the same need filling her reflected in his eyes.
Her heart stuttered in her chest. There was more than need there. There was longing, frustration, anger—not at her. Maybe at himself. But it was need that was winning.
She peeled his briefs down, releasing his impressive length. It had been days since they’d been together, but she hadn’t forgotten how perfect he was. She definitely hadn’t forgotten that piercing.
She eyed it hungrily, and Zac’s hands rose to her face, sweeping some strands of hair off her cheeks and tucking them behind her ears. Her blood whooshed loudly through her veins as his fingers pushed further back, tangling in the loose tendrils, tightening almost to the point of pain. It sent a bolt of lust through her. “Don’t tease me, angel.” His voice was tense.
It made her want to push him. It made her want to push herself.
She leaned forward until her lips hovered just above his piercing and let the heat of her breath wash over it. His cock jerked in response, and she smiled to herself, a thrill coursing through her.
She gripped him firmly at the base of his shaft and flicked her tongue over the bead of wetness at his tip, then over the metal barbell just below. A stuttered groan was his only reaction. She leaned down further, took the smooth, swollen crown into her mouth, then sank down until it nudged the back of her throat.
He swore violently as his hips tilted and his fingers flexed against her scalp. Arousal coiled in her belly.
She pulled back, swirled her tongue around the tip, flicked his piercing again, then sank down even farther this time.
“Fuck,” he hissed. She raised her gaze to find him watching her, mouth slightly parted, eyes hungry. The frustration, the anger, it was all gone. The only thing there now was white-hot need.
She let her lips rub over the satin-smooth skin of the tip, then glided her mouth back down, pulling a low rumble from his chest.
