Joy Ride (11 page)

“I’m stupid. That’s my only excuse.” She lowered her gaze. “I…um…I mean. Oh, crap.” She sighed. “I’m so stupid I never expected to see you dressed the way you were, and you caught me off guard and…and….”

Marc paused. “Is there some reason you don’t think of musicians as normal people?” he asked in a flat voice.”

“Yes. No.” Her words were so soft he had to lean forward to hear her. “I apologize for my stupidity.” She twisted her hands again. “I’ve…never been to a rock club before. Or any place like it. I…I….”

A whole new perspective opened for him, giving him a better understanding of her. There was no mistaking the sincerity in her words. Threading his fingers through her hair, he tipped her face and kissed her with all the pent-up heat he’d been dealing with since she’d run from his house early Sunday morning. She hesitated just briefly before opening her mouth and accepting the hard thrust of his tongue. When she wound her arms around his neck, he pulled her tight against his body, his rock-hard erection pressing into the soft flesh of her tummy.

He heard the soft gasp as he molded to her to him, and he drank more deeply from her, sliding his tongue across hers, enjoying the soft pressure of her lips touching his. His balls ached and his cock throbbed, and he wanted to strip off her clothes and plunge himself into her right then and there. Reaching for his sanity, he broke the kiss and cupped her cheeks.

Her eyes were filled with unanswered questions: anxiety, hope, desire. The color shifted from grey to smoky green in the haloed light of the parking lot.

“Do you forgive me?” she whispered.

“If you tell me your name.”

Her entire body tightened and she started to pull away. “I shouldn’t have come here. It was a big mistake.”

Big mistake, buddy boy
.

He was going to lose her unless he accepted her on her terms. She had some specific reason for this, whatever it was. Maybe she’s so out of her element. Needs to wait until she feels safe and secure with you. Trusts you.

And she was so ingrained in his system in just a short time he didn’t think he could survive it.

“No. Wait.” He brushed his lips against hers, the kiss a soft breeze against her skin. “It’s okay. I just thought since you brought your friend with you everything would be okay.”

“You mean I’d tell you who I was? Please, Marc.” Her voice was pleading. “Can’t I just be your Music Lady and you can be my Guitar Man?”

Could he move forward under this circumstance? He wanted her so badly and not just to take to bed. Somehow he’d find a way to resolve this problem. Swallowing his misgivings, he brushed his knuckles against her cheek and forced himself to relax.

“Okay. For now.” He glanced back at the club. “Can you come home with me again? What about your friend?”

“She brought her own car.” Music Lady licked her bottom lip, nervously casting her eyes around the parking lot as if expecting someone to jump out at her.

“She did?”

“Uh huh. I just needed her to come in with me for moral support. I drove my own car so she could leave if we…um…if you…you know. Let me apologize.”

He studied her, trying to tamp down his annoyance. She was obviously willing to go home with him but for what? Just sex? This was a new feeling for him and not a pleasant one. He’d never treated sex as casually as his friends. Sure he’d brought ML home impulsively but there was an instant connection he’d never felt before. And he was convinced it hadn’t diminished.

“I get the feeling you weren’t planning to tell anyone about this. Us. Whatever. Pardon me if I’m confused, but you brought your friend to the club and you won’t tell me your name? What’s up with that?”

She nibbled her lower lip. “Annie and I have been friends for years. And I needed someone to keep me from falling apart.” She was trembling. “Marc, listen to me. This is all so new to me. I hardly know you. I might not be your style.”

“Listen to me, babe.” He tilted her chin up so her eyes met his. “Whoever or whatever you are, you are most definitely my style. One of these times I might even get you to believe it.” He touched his mouth to hers briefly.

He wanted her. Badly. And not just her body. He and this woman had the beginning of something very special here. But if she wasn’t ready to tell him her name, they had a long road ahead of them. Right now he was just so damn glad to see her under any circumstances. He’d have to work to get her to trust him as much as she did her friend.

He studied her face as if there was some secret answer written there. “Okay, then, Music Lady. We’ll do things your way. For now.” He smiled. “But one of these days, I’m going to get you to trust me enough to tell me about the real you.”

She rubbed her hands nervously on her jeans and lowered her eyes. “You might not like the real me, Guitar Man.”

“I bet I will.” He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Now. We have one more set to play then we’re done for the night. Will you stay until the end? Come home with me again?”

He held his breath, waiting for her answer. When she nodded wordlessly, he smiled for the first time in days.

“Good. Let’s go back inside. I’ll get you a drink, and I can get ready for the last set. But first….”

He pulled her hard against him and touched his mouth to hers, the feel of her soft lips so arousing, her light floral scent filling his nostrils, her taste intoxicating. When he licked her lower lip with his tongue, she opened for him and he swept inside, gliding over every wet surface. She moaned into his mouth, wound her arms around his neck again, and pressed her body to his. The soft feel of her breasts with their hard little nipples were driving him crazy. He thrust his hips slightly, letting her know how swollen his cock was and knowing he’d need to find a way to hide his gigantic boner when he went back into the club.

Marc broke the kiss before it reached the point of no return and took a step back, reaching for her hand.

“Let’s go back inside. If you stay near where I found you, close to where I stand on the stage, we can slide right out this same door as soon as I’m finished for the night. You good with that?”

“Yes. And I want to tell my friend she can leave.”

“Okay. Good. Come on.” People were jammed everywhere but he got them both inside and handed her off to her friend, who was standing in the same place. Putting his mouth to her ear he whispered, “Later.”

When she nodded and gave him a shy smile, his heart turned over. Forcing himself to focus on what he had to do, he leaped onto the stage and picked up his guitar. He winked at ML before checking the song list for the final set. It couldn’t be over soon enough for him.

***

I must be crazy. Genuinely nuts. I cannot believe I’m doing this
.

She’d been a bundle of nerves wondering if he’d turn her away. But she wanted him—needed him—more than she thought it possible to desire another human being.

Annie had just grinned at her when she came back inside with Marc, gave her a quick hug, and said, “I wouldn’t walk away from him, either. And don’t worry; my lips are sealed. I won’t blab to Andrew or your folks. And you can tell him your name, you know.”

“I can’t explain it,” she said, feeling helpless in her own insecurities. “But when I’m with him, I’m not Emma but someone else. I
feel
like someone else. And right now I need that. You think I’m crazy to act this way, don’t you?” She grimaced. “I probably am.”

Annie shrugged. “It doesn’t much matter what I think. This is your life. You have to do whatever you’re comfortable with. I’m just glad to see you break out of your tight-ass mold.”

“Tight-ass?” Emma stared at her. “Is that how you saw me?”

“Only in the nicest possible way. Now I’m going to slide out of here. You go have a good time.”

So here she was, following Marc again through the quiet, nearly deserted streets. Emma, the quintessential good girl, going home for a second time with a man she wouldn’t even tell her name to.

Well, Toto, we’re not in Kansas anymore.

Shut up! You’re almost at his house. Get your act together
.

Marc pulled into his driveway while Emma parked in front of the house. He waited while she locked her car and came up the walkway, holding out his hand to her. When she took it, she noted his skin was warm against hers and she could feel the callouses on his fingers from years of playing the guitar. She trembled, whether from nerves or anticipation she wasn’t sure. She remembered the last time she’d been here to his house and thought about what was going to happen next. As soon as Marc unlocked the door and tugged her inside, he pulled her around to face him and smiled. God, his smile could melt her panties.

It also took the edge off her nerves.

“Relax.” He brought his free hand up and caressed her cheek, his eyes locked with hers. “Everything’s fine, ML. Just like the other night. There’s nothing to worry about.” He bent his head and brushed his lips against hers. “I promise.”

When he touched her, she couldn’t think about anything except being with him. She inhaled the scent uniquely his—the earthy aroma of a man who’d worked hard on stage blended with his cologne that reminded her of the outdoors. His body felt so good pressed lightly to hers. His lips were firm yet gentle, his taste intoxicating. Their tongues glided against each other in a kiss that speared through her like lightning. He was a pure sexual animal, and she knew she was already addicted to him.

She had one brief moment to give thanks that he’d forgiven her stupidity on Sunday before falling into the sensuous web he was weaving around her. None of the erotic romances she read quite prepared her for how powerful the real thing was.

The kiss was light. Gentle. A brief touching of mouths. Then he lifted his head.

“Are you hungry?” he asked her.

“No.” Her laugh was tremulous. “Annie wanted me to get an early dinner with her at Hot Salsa but I was too nervous to eat.”

“So you like Mexican food.” When she nodded he said, “Me, too. I’ve been to Hot Salsa. Casual place. Quality food.”

“It’s one of our favorite hangouts.”

“Maybe I could take you there sometime.”

Emma hesitated. “Maybe.” She spotted a stack of DVDs on top of his television and went to check them out. The one on top,
The Blind Side
, was one of her favorites. She picked up the case. “This is such a great story. I could watch this movie again and again.”

His eyes lit up. “Me, too. Seems like we have similar taste in movies and food. Good to know.”

Her stomach did a funny little flip.

No old war movies for this guy. And I’ll bet he’d ask me what I like to watch and what kind of pizza I like, too
.

“Maybe some time we could watch a movie together?” he asked.

Do something normal? Something besides share incredible sex?

She just didn’t know where she fit into the scheme of things with him, another reason she hugged her identity so closely—her protection against the moment things turned upside down. At least she’d have a life to go back to without him. A place where she could shut him out of her mind and continue to dwell in a grey world.

She needed to get past her Emma hang-ups and really let herself enjoy this man. Be his Music Lady. See if the connection sizzling between them was really what she hoped. A relationship needed more than just sex. Even spectacular sex. It stunned her he was willing to offer the possibility under the circumstances. Inside she was shaky and excited at the same time.

“Maybe,” she said, wondering if they would really get to that stage.

“Meanwhile I need to shower. Come on, babe. I want us to shower together.”

“Shower?” She blinked. “Together?”

He grinned. “Yeah. You know, like standing under water and using soap? I’ll bet you do it every day, right?”

“Um, yes, but I’ve never….”

“Showered with anyone? What a lot of things you’ve never done. You have no idea what you’ve been missing.” He kissed her cheek, his tongue feathering over her skin. “You’ll love it.” His voice dropped lower. “As long as I’m the only one you ever shower with.”

Ever? Was he implying something here? She kept trying to wrap her mind around the fact she was way out of her comfort zone and actually enjoying herself. Besides, Andrew—like the few other men she’d been with—insisted on his privacy when he showered. He didn’t consider it a couples’ activity.

Exactly what
did
Marc consider a couples’ activity, now that she thought about it? What an alien world she’d walked into, almost as if she’d been living in her closet all these years for as much as she knew about anything. Sexual and otherwise.

“Come on.” He led her down the little hallway to his bedroom and into the bathroom connected to it, flicking on lights as he moved.

Emma was surprised at what she saw. The floor and walls were covered in matte finish tiles in two colors arranged in a diamond-shaped pattern. A gleaming stall shower stood next to a deep Jacuzzi tub. The vanity counter was a pebbled chocolate and everything on it was amazingly neat. She couldn’t help staring as she looked around.

Marc laughed, a deep, warm rich sound. “Cleaner than you expected, right? I straightened up in the hope I’d have special company tonight.”

She gaped at him wondering just who he meant.

“You, Music Lady. I was hoping for you.”

The tiny knot of apprehension gripping her unwound and disappeared. She ran her fingers over the vanity. “This is just beautiful.”

He waved his hand at the room. “The bathroom was in pretty bad shape when I bought the house. My dad and brothers helped me do all the improvements.”

“I can’t get over the fact you actually own a house. I guess I expected…I don’t know
what
I expected.”

“An apartment filled with beer cans and dirty underwear?” He laughed again and cupped her cheeks, brushing his thumbs across her cheekbones. “I want roots. The music business is unsettling enough. I needed someplace to really call my own. Maybe tonight you’ll actually get to see more of it.” He paused. “After.”

And there was a wealth of meaning in that word.