“You earned the money. Keep it.” His voice was low and quiet. Determined. “I want you to have it.”
I frowned. And then I paused, taking his face in my hand and inspecting his stubbled jawline. The pad of my thumb ran back and forth over a small pink indentation. “What is this? How did you get this scar?”
“Someone threw a chunky silver ring at me at a festival about six months back. I think it was meant to be a gift.”
“Hell of a gift.”
“Just bad luck.” He reached up and gave my hand a squeeze. “Don’t worry about it.”
“I thought you had security.”
“They can’t be everywhere all the time. Things happen.” A sweet slow smile curled his lips. “Jill, baby, I’m fine. It’s just rock and roll. No need to get angry.”
“I’m not angry.” Mildly outraged he’d been harmed, but not angry.
“Then stop scowling, you’re scaring me to death.”
“Very funny.” With a deep breath, I relaxed my face and channeled some nice calm thoughts. “People shouldn’t be throwing things at you. It’s rude and dangerous.”
“Usually it’s just panties, flowers—soft stuff like that.”
“Ew.”
His smile amped up and he was back to staring. God I liked that way more than I wanted to admit. But he had to know. What with the way I kept meeting his gaze before looking away, acting all nervous and on edge.
Finally, he licked his lips. “You wouldn’t believe how many times I thought about picking up the phone to call you. Wanting to tell you about something that had happened. Then I’d remember…you didn’t want to talk to me.”
“Like you weren’t mad at me too.”
“Oh, I was. For a week or two. Then I just felt like an ass more than anything.”
“So, what? You wrote that whole album during the week or two you were angry at me?”
“Yeah. Basically. Channeled everything into the music. Worked through it all and realized I was wrong, and you were right.” He watched me with a raised brow. “But the songs were good. It wasn’t like I was going to let them go to waste and not play them.”
“Of course not.” I snorted and set down the scissors. “Say it again, the I was right and you were wrong part.”
“I was right, and you were wrong.”
I growled and launched myself at him, putting much energy into messing up his now nice and neat hair, making it fall all over his stupid handsome face, sprinkling tiny snippets of cut hair all over us, like so much confetti. “You’re done, Adam. In all the ways.”
“Wait, wait, wait.” He grabbed my hips, grinning all the while. “I was wrong. You were right. There…I said it.”
“Again.”
All amused-like, he looked skyward. “You’re a demanding woman. You know that?”
“Damn right I am.”
“Damn right you are.”
Impossible not to smile back at him. Lord, I was a weak-willed woman. His fingers flexed, digging into the flesh of my hips just a little, and perhaps Adam still felt a touch possessive about me and my body too.
He slipped a hand behind my ear, gentle as can be. “I like the silver hair.”
“Thanks.” We were whispering for some reason.
For the longest time, he just kept staring at me. It was as if we were both hypnotized by the sight of the other. Neither of us could stop. His hand lingered on the side of my head before slipping around to embrace the back of my neck and urge me forward. Pulling me closer. And I couldn’t not taste him. My mouth watered at just the thought.
“Adam…”
“I’m right here.”
Which was kind of both the good part and the problem.
He ushered my body between his spread legs and our mouths were on exactly the right trajectory for impact. One. Two. Three. Bam. We were kissing. Lips pressing softly together at first before the hunger grew. It was all so familiar and right. Easy, even. With one hand grabbing the back of my neck just how I liked it and the other beneath my tee, sliding over the skin of my back, the man kissed me hard and sure. His tongue slid against mine. His teeth nipped at my bottom lip.
My head spun and my knees went weak. My blood boiled inside my veins. I wanted everything and I wanted it now. So much for not sleeping with him. If this didn’t end in an orgasm, there’d be hell to pay. I needed it so badly. And not just from anyone, it had to be from him.
I’d forgotten how well we fit together. How perfect his mouth was against mine. Way back when we’d been together, he’d made a study of how to please me physically for both the right and wrong reasons. Adam loved working things out in bed, and I had to admit…I didn’t mind it either. Sex to get my mind off the mess he’d made. Sex to distract me from our money situation. Or yes, even sex just to see me smile. And he hadn’t forgotten a damn thing. If only he’d used his powers for good instead of evil, we might still be together.
His firm wet lips fed me kiss after kiss as his hard thighs clamped shut on my hips (as if I were going anywhere). Stepping back from him, pulling away had never even crossed my mind. That’s the honest truth. All of the heat inside of me had roared back to life at his touch. My body had been asleep for so long. Instead of doing the sensible thing, I fisted my hands in his hair and gave as good as I got. Biting and licking and demanding more.
A growl rumbled up from deep in his throat and his hands shifted, changing position to attack the button and zipper of my jeans. It was like the item of clothing personally offended him or something. Had done him wrong.
“Shoes,” I panted.
“Shit.”
Again, his hands moved, cupping my ass cheeks, lifting me off my feet and depositing me on the kitchen counter. Slashes of pink highlighted his cheekbones. With nil preamble, he tore into the laces on my boots, wresting the shoes and socks from my feet. Next came my jeans. This was the benefit of him being bigger and me being smaller. In times of duress, he could just lift and maneuver me as required. It was time effective if nothing else.
The nice thing about screwing around with an ex was the lack of physical angst. He’d seen my body many times before. Knew my ass wobbled a little and that my breasts were small. For certain, there was no performance anxiety or fear of him finding the dimples on my thighs off-putting. So that was a bonus. It should also be noted that guitarists’ hands are mighty swift and sure. A pair of panties went flying over his shoulder and my tee and bra weren’t far behind. I sat bare-assed on the cool stone counter.
Then he paused. “Do I need—?”
“No.” I shook my head. “Not for my sake. What about you?”
“Haven’t done anything unprotected and I was tested recently.”
Truth be told, I kind of wanted to slap him for breaking our unspoken yearlong no-sex ban. Just because he hadn’t known of its existence was no excuse. In all honesty, I felt a little feral right then. A bit violent. Only he made me crazy like this.
A small smile curled his lips at the expression on my face.
“Shut up,” I snapped.
“Let me make it up to you.”
Strong hands gripped my ankles, lifting and parting them, a move necessitating that my back hit the stone surface. But I didn’t protest because I wasn’t an idiot. Instead, excitement had my pulse racing, my ribcage tightening. He bussed the insides of my thighs, stubble tickling and scraping against sensitive skin. I didn’t know where all of the oxygen in the room had gone. Somewhere important, I hoped. To someone who needed it.