“Name?”
“Ro—Um, Katie. Katie Williams. I’m staying with Steven Aimes.”
An eyelash did bat at that name. “You’re his third girlfriend today,” the clerk said.
Roux’s jaw dropped. “What?”
“Fortunately, you’re actually expected. I have your name right here, but I will need to see identification.”
Roux released a relieved breath, wondering about those other two girlfriends of Steve’s. Did they know him, or was that just their story to try to get into his hotel room?
Roux produced her passport and driver’s license, both which had her given name, Katherine R. Williams. “I go by Katie,” she told the clerk as she carefully inspected her ID.
She apparently passed the test, because without additional questions she was given a keycard and assigned a security guard to see her up to the room. She couldn’t help but notice the muscled hunk was not only tall and dark but definitely handsome, and also claimed in excess; he wore not one but two wedding bands on his left ring finger. He also looked familiar. She stared at him rather rudely while she tried to place him.
“The tabloids,” he said on the elevator.
“What?”
“That’s where you’ve seen me before.”
Roux’s cheeks went hot, and she lowered her gaze. “Sorry for staring.”
“Hey, at least you didn’t call me an asshole for destroying Trey and Reagan’s relationship.”
“Oh!” Roux said. He was that guy. Reagan Elliot’s bodyguard. Steve had mentioned the couple’s unusual yet perfect commitment ceremony which had taken place only days ago. Or would that be the threesome’s ceremony? How did one refer to an illegitimate marriage between three people?
“I’ve been entrusted with your secret identity,” he said. “Steve told me your plan, so you can relax, Katie. I’ll keep the sharks at bay.” Under his breath he said, “Even if I couldn’t manage to do that for Reagan.”
“Thanks, uh . . . Sorry, I don’t recall your name.”
“Ethan.”
“Thanks, Ethan.” She wondered how much of those tabloid stories were true. Probably little, she decided, but refused to pry. It was none of her business.
When they reached the proper floor, Ethan escorted her to Steve’s room. There were several additional security members on this floor—all wearing matching orange shirts—and none of them questioned her presence, presumably because Ethan was with her.
Ethan entered the room ahead of her and checked the bathroom and closets. “All clear,” he said. “Have a good time. He must be crazy about you.”
Roux smiled. “The feeling is mutual.” Ethan closed the door behind him and left her to fend for herself. She hoped she didn’t have to wait too long for Steve to arrive. She wasn’t sure how much time they had before she’d be required to prepare for tomorrow evening’s show. She would like to check out the venue and meet the other musicians—all while in costume, of course. But that meant she’d have to keep her hands to herself around Steve, and seeing as it had been an eternity since she’d last touched him, chances were slim that she’d be able to keep her distance.
Roux glanced around the room, smiling at the king-size bed she hoped would get excessive use in the near future, and noticed three colorful boxes sitting in a neat row across the dresser. More gifts? She hated to presume anything, so she checked for a card. Her heart fluttered when she found one addressed to Katie sitting in front of the presents. It read Pick your fantasy from one of these boxes, and make all of mine come true. With love and anticipation, Steve.
She lifted the lid off the first shiny box—midsized and white—and found a gauzy pink negligee with faux fur trim and obscenely tiny matching panties. Also inside were fur-lined handcuffs, vanilla-scented candles, pink rose petals, and one of Steve’s signature cards. If you’re feeling nice and need a little convincing to be naughty, pick me.
She scrambled for the second box—the enormous black one—lifting the lid and peering inside. Her jaw dropped at the crotchless leotard, the thigh-high black leather boots, and the restraints. There were no scented candles or rose petals, but there were several wicked-looking implements that made her quiver with both excitement and anxiety. The enclosed card read If you’re feeling extra naughty and think I need a little convincing to behave, pick me.
Fingers shaking, she opened the smallest box—red—and found it empty except for a card. Answer the door in this if you’d rather improvise. Answer the door in what? She checked inside the lid in case she missed something. There was nothing in there. Oh. She grinned. Nothing. Answer the door in nothing.
While she was feeling nice and extra naughty—and would insist they shouldn’t let his other gifts go to waste—something told her to choose the red box. Red was her color, after all.
She heard voices coming up the hall, and though the sound was muffled, she recognized that one of those voices belonged to Steve. She didn’t have much time. She kicked her shoes off and yanked her top off over her head. Bra, jeans, panties, and socks soon found the floor. She checked her appearance in the mirror and cringed. Damn, she definitely looked like she’d spent the better part of a day on an airplane. She combed her fingers through her hair to give the flat locks a bit of volume. While she kicked her discarded clothes under a nearby chair, she licked her teeth, wishing she had time to brush them before . . .
There was a knock at the door. “I hope you’re indecent in there,” Steve said from the hall.
She hurried to the door and said, “And if I’m not?”
“I’ll still love you.”
She was flying higher than any aircraft in existence when she reached for the handle and opened the door. Struck immobile at the sight of him, she just stared. She’d forgotten how gorgeous he was. That sexy little smile of his. The strength in the lines of his handsome face and strong jaw. The lump of his Adam’s apple. The way the light caught mahogany highlights in his silky brown hair. The admiration in his exotic dark eyes. He’d been working out, she decided, fingers lifting toward the hard contours of his upper arms, and he’d gotten some sun since she’d last seen him. His complexion was a shade darker. And while she loved the beard he wore while off tour, she preferred his face smooth as it was now. There was no hiding his expression when he was clean shaven.
“Looking good, Katie Roux!” Logan called from behind Steve.
That was when she remembered she was naked. Before she could cover herself, Steve stepped into the room and closed the door. She expected a moment of awkwardness after their separation, but the second he touched her, there had been no lost time between them, no distance. Physically, yes, they hadn’t touched, but their soul-deep connection had never severed or even thinned.
“I missed you,” he said, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her securely against his chest. His hands slid up to cradle the back of her head as he leaned his face close and kissed her hair. She could feel his heart thudding beneath her cheek. Hers answered in a hard, almost uncomfortable rhythm.
“I missed you too.”
“You chose the red box,” he murmured.
“I didn’t really have time to choose anything else,” she said, her hand flattening on his belly. She could feel the definition of his world-famous abs under his T-shirt. She wanted to nibble and lick every one of those eight ridges.
“If you want, I can wait.”
“I can’t,” she said breathlessly, sliding her hand up under his shirt. Her fingertips rubbed the smooth skin of his belly, bumping over the contours, circling his navel.
“Can we make this last forever?” he murmured.
Their reunion? The inevitable sex? Their feelings? What did he mean? She needed him to be more specific. “This?”
“All of this. You. Me. Together. Never to part.”
“Yes,” she said with confidence. She could do forever with him. “I never would have guessed you wer
e so romantic, Mr. Aimes.” But she was so glad that he was.
“I love being in love,” he said with a soft laugh. He drew her back slightly and smoothed her hair from her face with one hand as he gazed into her eyes. “With you in particular.”
She fleetingly wondered if he’d been like this with Bianca, and then decided she didn’t want to know. She wanted to believe that his love for her was special. Needed that to be true.
“I love being in love with you too.”
“Have I told you that I missed you yet?”
Smiling, she nodded.
“God, I missed you.” He lowered his head and captured her mouth in a searing kiss. Heat and emotion flooded her, swirling feelings of love and lust, of want and need, into one indecipherable mess. She was drowning in him and didn’t care if she ever drew a sound breath again. She tugged his shirt up, needing to feel his bare chest against her hardened nipples. She wanted every inch of him melded against every inch of her. And once they were one, she didn’t want to move. Just be. With him.
He helped her pull his shirt off over his head and then drew her against him quickly, as if they were of one mind and the thought of any space between them was unbearable after their time apart. She struggled to find air as she kissed him, but somehow his lips against hers were far more important than getting enough oxygen. She shivered as his hands stroked her back and slid lower over her butt, pulling her against the hard ridge of his cock. Groaning against his lips, she unfastened his jeans, and pushed them down his thighs. His answering groan sent fire coursing through her veins. She needed him inside her. She really couldn’t wait.
“Steve,” she pleaded.
It was enough to send him shuffling toward the bed, kicking his shoes and the nuisance of his jeans off as he dragged her along with him.
“I’ve been mentally coaching myself all day to take my time with you,” he said.
She tumbled back onto the bed and he followed. She opened for him, not wanting him to take his time.
“My coaching skills apparently need more work.”
He reached between their bodies and rubbed the tip of his cock against her clit. She gasped, her back arching off the mattress. “Steve,” she pleaded again.