AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Look who else arrived for our celebration,” he said hoarsely, hoping like hell he wasn’t giving himself away. He was so grateful she’d showed it was a freaking miracle he hadn’t tossed his phone aside and rushed forward to haul her into his arms. “Lila Shawcross, our esteemed rep from Ripper Records. Say hello to twenty million of our best friends.”
She slid into PR mode effortlessly. “Hello, Oblivion family.” Her voice was butter-smooth, and she smiled as if she didn’t have a single care. But her eyes were troubled, and the shadows beneath them too dark. Had she not been sleeping? That stupid VIP concert had taken a toll on more than just the band and their personal relationship with each other. It appeared to have caused damage to Lila too.
He didn’t know if he wanted to fuck her brainless or tuck her into his bed and watch over her to make sure she got some rest.
Actually, yes, he did know. He wantedbothof those things. He wanted to be by her side tonight and all the nights that came after, and to walk in the daylight with her without fear of who might see. He didn’t want to fucking hide, not when he’d never felt like this before.
And that wouldn’t—couldn’t—happen.
So he wouldn’t press. Wouldn’t demand more than she was ready to give. They would have tonight and tomorrow morning, and if that was all they could have, he would try to accept it. Maybe one day he might even understand.
Though he seriously fucking doubted it.
“So there you have it, Oblivionites, we’re about to all chow down on some serious turkey and rock out with our cocks out.” In his case, he hoped that was a literal translation. “Happy holidays to all of you, and thank you for supporting us this year. You’re the rhythm that keeps us going. Rock on.” He uploaded the clip, tossed his phone on the island, then pointed at the mistletoe above Lila’s head. He didn’t know where it had come from, and he didn’t much care. It served his purposes all too well.
“Well, look at that. Can’t break with holiday tradition, can we?” he asked, already advancing on Lila.
She took a step back. “Nicholas—”
“It’s Christmas Eve,” he murmured, not stopping until their toes bumped. Bare feet for him and white ankle boots for her, slouchy leather things that probably cost a mint. “Let’s eat, drink and be merry.”
She cast a look up at the mistletoe before giving him a jerky nod. “Just a quick one.”
He nodded and gripped her elbows, drawing her up to her toes so his mouth hovered over hers, barely a breath apart. He stared into her bluer-than-blue eyes, recording their exact shade in his mind, before slicking his tongue along the seam of her lips. She trembled and he curled his fingers around her arms, pulling her against him as he dove in deep.
There was no taking his time, no patience and no being careful. His mouth raced over hers and one hand skated up her back to grip her head. His fingers jabbed through her updo, loosening pins and curls, and he explored her as thoroughly as if he’d never kissed her before.
Because he hadn’t. Not like this. He’d had her and lost her and had somehow gotten her back again for one shining, perfect moment.
He was scarcely aware of turning her toward the island and pressing her back to it, of reaching down to pull her hips sharply into his own. The feel of her warm softness closing around the steel of his cock through his jeans tore a groan from his throat and she absorbed it, curling her tongue around his, her kiss every bit as hungry. She clutched his shirt and dragged him even closer, rising up to grind her breasts into his chest. This time she was the one who made a sound, though he wasn’t sure if it was from pleasure or pain. Perhaps both. And relief. Sheer, fucking relief that neither of them had to go without for one more second.
Then he heard the clapping.
Eyes still closed, he drew back and hauled in a breath. Lila’s mumbled, “oh shit,” made him finally turn his head and open his eyes.
Although he wished he hadn’t.
His entire band was clustered in the doorway, and they were all laughing or pumping their fists or in the case of Jazz, giggling and clapping.
“Nowthat’show you kiss under the mistletoe,” Simon said to Margo, whipping out a sprig to hold over her head. “I intend to invoke this often, by the way.”
Right after Simon and Margo started their so-not-innocent peck, Gray decided to go for it as well. He tugged on Jazz’s arm, and she leaped onto his hips before he spun her into a laughing kiss under the actual mistletoe.
That left Deacon to approach Harper, who brandished her long-handled fork to hold him off. “Uh uh, mister, I’m not into public displays—” Then she grinned and tossed down her fork. “Who am I kidding? I so am.”
“Cop car,” Nick reminded her over his shoulder. She scowled before Deacon hoisted her right off her feet and into his arms. Then she wasn’t scowling anymore.
Nick glanced at Lila, who was watching the display around her with wide eyes and flushed cheeks. “Ready for some turkey?” He slipped a hand in her back pocket and spoke softly against her cheek. “Unless you’re in the mood for something else…”
PARTII
PARTII
LILA
Lila wasn’t in the mood for something else.
Liar, liar. She so was.
