Staged (Exodus End 3)

He laughed, the rich, deep sound making her heart pound. “I hope I can live up to your wildest expectations.”

He already had, but he wasn’t exactly what she’d expected. He was so much more. Once the plane lifted off and reached altitude, she anticipated him jumping her eager bones, but they got to talking about high school. Surprisingly, he’d been a football, basketball, and baseball jock even though he’d been several years younger than his classmates; not so surprisingly, she’d been involved in multiple animal welfare projects, many of which she continued to champion when she wasn’t following Iona toward stardom.

“If I wasn’t your bigge

st fan, I’d encourage you to go to college to become a veterinarian or a zoologist or something,” he said, stroking the hand he held on the armrest between them.

“I thought about it,” she admitted. “But I’m content. Inspired even. And even though I’ll never make much money helping animals at a shelter, I do feel like I make a difference. That’s what’s important to me.”

“You won’t need to worry about money. Your music is going to make you a very wealthy woman.”

She tried to cling to his confidence in her, and the self-assuredness that Iona tried to instill in the entire band, but she couldn’t quite believe their tragic little songs would ever catch on well enough for Baroquen to have true success.

“I hate to admit that Sam Baily is right about anything,” Steve said, “but he was right about Baroquen. The band is going to be a music sensation. And it’s going to happen quickly. That’s why I had to swoop in and claim you for myself before every man on the planet notices you and wants what I have.”

She swallowed, trying not to let his words cloud her judgment, searching for a way to lessen the heaviness of his claims over her. She wanted to be his—she couldn’t deny that. But this relationship—if that was where this was truly headed—was moving far too fast for her sensibilities.

“I think we—you—need to slow down a little,” she said, even as her heart cried out that it didn’t want him to slow down in the slightest.

“I’ve hardly touched you since we got on this plane,” he said, squeezing her hand as if he refused to break that final contact.

“I’m not talking about the physical part being too fast. If anything, I wish that part was going faster. It’s the emotional entanglement that’s making me anxious.”

“I thought nice girls wanted all the feelings before focusing on the physical.”

She grinned at him. “You think I came with you for feelings?”

“I assumed they’d be a requirement.”

“More of a nuisance. I just want a quick and dirty affair.” She knew she was saying that to try to keep him at a distance because he was already much too close. He leaned across her seat and kissed her, stealing all rational thought with the sweep of his tongue against her lips.

He pulled away slowly, his eyes searching hers. “That’s just too fucking bad, Red. I always get what I want, and our affair can be dirty, but it will not end quickly. It won’t end at all.”

“We can’t continue this in Europe.” While they’d been at Pops’s farm, she’d started imagining how much fun they could have exploring all the sites in Europe, but she had to think rationally. The next three months would make or break her band, and she couldn’t let herself be distracted, no matter how much she wanted this man.

“And that’s the only thing making you hesitate?”

She stared into his eyes, thinking of all the reasons she should be cautious. The fact that he was the most famous rock drummer in the world was a major consideration, but his party-boy reputation held a close second, and his womanizing ways were straight at the top of her precautionary list. But the longer she stared at him, the less any of those things mattered, and yes, the tour was the only barrier that truly made her hesitate to toss her heart at his feet and give the uncommon connection between them a chance to grow.

“Yes,” she said. “The only thing.”

“I’m tempted to call off the entire tour,” he said.

Her heart leapt into her throat. That was the exact opposite of what she wanted. Her hand flew out to grasp his forearm, but before she could beg him to reconsider, he added, “But I wouldn’t do that to you.”

She released her breath, her head swimming from lack of air. Iona wouldn’t hesitate to murder her for destroying their big opportunity over some guy. Even if that guy was Steve Aimes.

“So the next few days will have to be spectacular enough to tide me over for three months,” he said.

“That’s a lot of pressure to put on a woman,” she said, her voice wavering slightly. Jeez, until a couple of hours ago, she had never even had an orgasm while with a man. Did he expect her to suddenly become some sex kitten? Because he was going to be entirely disappointed.

“Don’t worry,” he said, brushing his fingers lightly over her cheek as he continued to stare into her eyes. She couldn’t look away or even blink. “I’m already completely hooked.”

“Me too.”

“I’m glad. I was starting to think this infatuation was one-sided.”

She shook her head. “I’ve always been very cautious about matters of the heart.” She instinctually reached for the bullet on her bracelet and squeezed it into her palm. “Maybe because I came so close to losing it for real.”

“Just thinking about that makes me ache,” he whispered. He closed his eyes and pressed his forehead against hers. “The world would be a much darker place without you in it.”

She cupped his jaw in her hands and tilted her head to claim his mouth. His words were so sweet that they made her ache with emotion, yet the moment their lips met, that ache shifted into something entirely physical. God, she wanted him. She hoped he’d ravish her soon.

He kissed her so deeply and so thoroughly that she moaned. Her trembling hands slid down his neck to his chest, exploring hard muscles concealed beneath soft cotton. Her fingers bumped over the ridges of his abs, and she silently cursed the armrest between them. Still, the barrier didn’t stop her hand from sliding up under his shirt to touch the warm, smooth skin beneath the fabric. When she discovered a narrow strip of coarse hair just beneath his navel, she followed it down to the waistband of his jeans. Dare she? She peeked at his face from under her lashes and found his eyes closed, his face twisted in an agonized expression. Did he like being touched or . . . She pressed a hand against the hard ridge in his pants, and his breath caught. He pushed his head back against the seat but didn’t encourage or discourage her exploration. She wasn’t used to initiating sexual encounters. It was a little intimidating, but also liberating and arousing.

“Would it be okay if I . . .”

“You don’t have to ask,” he said, pressing her hand against his hard-on. “I’m completely at your mercy. Do as you please.”

She glanced up at the lit fasten-seat-belt sign and resisted the urge to stick her tongue out at it. Still, there was plenty she could do to his gorgeous body before they reached altitude and she could free herself from her seat.

“Put your hands on the armrest and don’t move,” she said, half expecting him to refuse her request. When he did exactly as instructed, a thrill of empowerment raced through her. He clung to the armrests as she pushed his shirt up his belly and stroked his skin in slow, teasing motions. He squirmed but didn’t protest further as she took her time getting to know the rock-hard abs he was famous for. Lord, this man had a body that should be thoroughly appreciated. The strong and well-defined muscles quivered beneath her fingertips, drawing a satisfied smile to her lips. She enjoyed building his anticipation as well as her own.

She unfastened the top button of his jeans, and an excited hiss escaped him. Hiding a wicked grin by tilting her chin down, she moved her attention back to his belly.

“I could stroke your abs all day,” she said, her typically husky voice even scratchier than usual.

“There are other parts of me that would enjoy a good stroke,” he said tightly.

“Let’s see if I can figure out which parts you’re referring to.”

“You know damn well what I’m referring to.”

“Maybe I should use my mouth instead of my hands,” she said.

“Yes. Yes, you should.”

Arching over the seat put strain on her lower back, but she managed to lock a sucking kiss to his side. His belly tightened, and he huffed out a breath, but he didn’t release his white-knuckled grip on the armrests. She kissed a trail down his side, one hand resting flat against his stomach. Her lips continued their journey as far as she could reach, but until she could take off her seat belt,

her exploration remained limited.

“We have a problem,” she said, shifting her gaze up to his face to find him watching her. “I can’t reach.”

He grinned crookedly. “Just how small do you think it is?”

She remembered well that he was the opposite of small. Maybe she could reach his cock with her mouth. Well, the tip at the very least. Her hand slid down his belly to his fly, and he groaned as she slowly unbuttoned the remaining buttons there. The look of heated longing on his face made her squeeze her thighs together against a rush of achy needed. She forced her attention to where her hand was fumbling to release him from the confines of his pants, and when his cock sprang free, fully erect and straining, her breath caught. Every inch of this man’s body was exquisite. Her fingertips skimmed up the smooth skin of his cock and then trailed back down, slowly, gently, over and over again, until he was panting, his muscles went taut, and his cock twitched. She hadn’t realized they could do that.

Feeling a bit uncertain about her skill level—he must have gotten blow jobs from women far more experienced than she was—she bent over his lap and tentatively licked his cockhead. He gasped excitedly, encouraging her boldness. She sucked his tip into her mouth, rubbing her lips over the rim and swirling her tongue over the glans as she sucked softly. He strained toward her, attempting to lift his hips, but his seat belt held him snuggly in place. Further encouraged, she slid a hand into his open fly and cupped his balls, loving the way they slid beneath the loose skin of his sac as she fondled them gently.

His hand shifted to her head, but he didn’t try to force it down to take him deeper into her mouth. He merely stroked her hair from her face with tenderness.

“That feels amazing,” he said huskily.

Her original intention was to tease him for as long as he could stand it, but now she just wanted to make him come. To give him the intense pleasure he’d given her earlier. Her touch became bolder, caressing his balls, stroking his shaft. Her mouth took him deeper, suction tightening, tongue dancing against his most sensitive skin.