GIO (Interracial Rockstar Romance) - Page 28

“Most of his acts are rappers from the streets. I can’t see him bringing Killer Ray flowers.”

“Well, I bet he brings Killer Ray something. He did hit platinum last year.”

“Hmmm.” He took the plastic pillows over to the tub and stuck them into the water.

“Ru has never come onto me if that’s what you’re getting at. I think he just sees me as a little sister.”

“I doubt that.” He changed the discussion. “What’s your heritage? Sometimes when you talk, I hear an island accent.”

“I try to push it away.”

“It peeks out now and then.”

“I’m Geechee. Most call us Gullah people.”

“I don’t know much about them, but I keep thinking of Charleston.”

“Good guess. There are a lot of Gullah that live in Charleston since it’s so close to the islands.”

It was weird to be talking to Gio with this much comfort as if we were longtime friends. For god’s sake, I was naked in his bathroom and this was our first real conversation. Yet, there was an ease about him, a soothing energy that made me want to be around him more.

He must’ve wondered why I’d gone silent. “On Ru, I won’t push the topic any further. I just want to make sure you’re protected and not left on your own. This industry is filled with monsters.”

I nodded.

“If I ever ask too many questions just tell me to mind my business. I have thick skin.”

“You’re fine.”

In more ways than one.

It was hard not to want to taste him as he moved around the space, setting up a lovely bath for me, spoiling and waiting on me like a queen. Did he do this often? I didn’t want to think about the other women that had probably gotten this treatment. Instead, I focused on the moment and enjoyed his doting while I could.

He walked over to me. “Okay. I’m going to help you in.”

My heartbeat sped up.

“I’ll close my eyes.” He did and held his hands out.

I rose from the tub and placed my hands on his chest, using him to keep my balance, my legs still wobbly. As my hands pressed on his pecs, his chest stiffened, and a soft noise left his lips.

I undid the blanket and it dropped to the floor, leaning against his legs. I saw him inhale deeply and my breathing shifted to panting.

The room had been warm due to the hot water and the fireplace in his bedroom, yet my nipples stiffened like it was freezing cold, hungry, and wanting Gio’s attention.

How could my body not react to this moment? He was gorgeous, talented, and standing right next to me willing to do my bidding. Unable to help myself, I leaned into him, pressing the tips of my nipples against his chest, and drinking in that expensive cologne with hints of pine and Jupiter.

He whispered, “Do you need any help into the tub?”

Do I?

No, but I needed his hands on me.

“If you don’t mind...I just need you to guide me in.”

“Can I open my eyes?” he asked. “Trust me, I won’t look. I just want to make sure we both don’t fall in.”

“That’s fine.” My voice lowered. “I’m sure you saw something already.”

He licked his lips, telling me I’d been correct. “Not as much as I wanted to see, but I’m not that type of guy.”

“I didn’t think you were.”

He opened his eyes, hitting me with heat. Lust pooled within them. My whole body lit up with fire. Steam filled the space and rose around us, dampening our skin. His hands went to my hips while that heated gaze remained locked to me.

“I never told you Merry Christmas.” He directed his attention to my mouth. “This moment just made me think of that. I hadn’t been excited to celebrate anything since Jason.” He licked his lips again and his grip on my hips tightened. “Thank you for spending the day with me.”

His overwhelming presence demanded my attention, those blue eyes focused on me, piercing and compelling. My breasts tingled. I took a deep breath, trying not to get lost in his eyes. As handsome and alluring as he was, he had one flaw I couldn’t overlook.

He was a celebrity musician. To take one seriously would be to set up my heart for failure. I didn’t know any celebrity male singer that didn’t have a side woman in every state. They were like football and basketball players, always with a different chick on their arm whether they were married or engaged.

And these guys’ wives, fiancées, and girlfriends dealt with it, happy to be with a star, so happy to shine with them in the limelight and count their money. However, the diamonds, cars, mansions, and fame weren’t enough for me. I needed commitment, loyalty, and honesty.

“What’s on your mind?” he asked.

“Nothing.” I exhaled and looked away, cutting off the trance he’d trapped me in.

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