GIO (Interracial Rockstar Romance)
“Whoa.”
“Do you like it?” he asked.
“I love this. I’m going to have flowers filling up my studio too.”
“Good. I got them for you. I’ll make sure the staff keeps fresh ones around.”
“You’re...you’re fucking awesome, Gio.”
He sat down at the piano and his long hair fell along the side of his face again, only showing me half of him. Not even thinking, I took a step toward him, unable to stop myself from reaching to move his hair.
“Thank you.” He didn’t move, and I couldn’t seem to form any words with him so close.
“Sit with me, please,” he said. “Play with me.”
Once again that deep, sensual voice had me. I was at his command.
“Sure.” The word came out breathy, and it took every muscle in my body to stop myself from leaning into him as I sat right next to him. I wanted to rub against him like a cat in heat, but I got control of my hormones.
Still trapped in his hot gaze, I asked, “What should we play?”
Gio’s eyes darkened even more, exuding strong sensuality and masculinity. When he spoke, his words were husky, sexy, and clear. “I want you, Simone.”
It wasn’t what he said, but how said it, and how he looked at me while he did. Then to top things off, without warning, the most devastating smile caught the corners of his mouth and extended deep into his eyes. His gaze told me he was as serious as a heart attack and just as lethal. The four words he had spoken suddenly changed the rhythm of my heartbeat and sent a jolt of desire through my body.
His gaze was like an intimate caress. “Any response?”
I was glad I was sitting down because my knees felt like rubber.
He leaned toward me. Twin dimples indented his features as a slow smile spread across his lips.
Why hadn’t I noticed those before?
“We can keep it all business,” he said softly. “No pressure. Sex has nothing to do with our contract. I just had to tell you how bad I needed you.”
Unexpected warmth rode up my legs, beginning at my toes, and settled in my center. I inhaled deeply and had to pull myself together. Gio was almost too much to handle. The soft huskiness of his voice and the determined intensity in his eyes stirred something to life deep within me.
“Not now.” I cleared my throat. “Not until after we’ve done what I came here to do.”
“Make music?”
“Yes.”
“So...” He licked his lips. “So, you’re not saying yes or no?”
“Exactly,” I whispered. “I’m saying maybe.”
“Maybe?”
“Yes.”
He nodded, pierced me with a heated gaze, and then sang so low and slow the notes vibrated through me. “Maybe.”
He placed his hands on the piano and played around with the keys, going higher and then lower. I curved my lips into a smile, loving his voice and the way he controlled the notes with pure perfection.
The piano and he found a melody that was a slow groove. It filled the room, yanking me out of the studio and into a dark nightclub with a low, red light glowing crimson rays in the center.
“Maybe.” His voice transported me.
In my mind, he stood on stage with his shirt off as everyone swayed in the audience. The earthy aroma of weed smoke and warm sex swarmed around me. Heat spread across my flesh. My breathing shifted to panting. I licked my lips, needing, craving, yearning to taste the notes dancing under his fingertips.
He raised his voice with each word as he played. “Maybe. Maybe, she’ll always be mine. Maybe, I’ve finally found forever. Maybe, our love would shine.”
My heart hummed with the groove.
“Oh, maybe.” The piano climbed with him. “Maybe, I can be on her team. Maybe, she’ll never love another. Maybe, I’m the man of her dreams.”
Delicious shivers ran up my spine. My panties were wet. My body was melting.
And then he took it to church. He blew me away as his voice climbed higher and higher, bouncing up and down like a gospel singer bellowing about their love for Jesus on the altar. “Oh yes! Oh yes, maybe! Maybe, I can give her the crown. Maybe, she’ll be my queen. Lick her body up and down.”
His fingers danced on the keys. Silent, he let the piano speak for him as he licked his lips and continued to play and stare at me, undressing and caressing me with his gaze.
My nipples stiffened. Desire pulsed in my blood, but it wasn’t all sexual. I went wild. A lioness appeared in my core, raising her head, getting into position to pounce, and tracking her prey to hear more.
He played.
And I began to play too, catching his melody in a higher key and letting my fingers dance on the piano.
“Damn,” he whispered. “You’re a fast learner.”
“I try.”
“You’re only making me want you more, princess.”