Love Struck (Miss Match #2) (21 page)

She needed to hear he was in the same place she was. Careful to make sure her wording wouldn’t alert the moderators, she typed,
Hey, Folx, Christmas Eve is still on, right?

I’m more on than I’ve ever been.

A wave of relief washed through her. Still, she wanted him to say more. Needed to hear more.
What’s that mean exactly?

She drummed her fingers across her knee as she watched the dots on the screen that indicated he was typing.

It means I think about it all the time. I think about you all the time. If I didn’t have commitments right now, I’d beg for your address and show up on your doorstep tomorrow, forum moderators be damned. What about you?

Until that moment, Lacy had loved the tour and the opportunity it gave her. Now she wished with all her heart that neither of them had any obligations. Wished that she could wrap herself up in a world filled only with Folx and her and their music. It wouldn’t last—she knew that—but that didn’t matter since it was only a fantasy anyway.

In this space, in this forum, she could let that fantasy live. She was filled with such conviction that she didn’t even care if the moderators slapped her with a warning when she typed her next entry.
To say I think about you all the time is an understatement. As soon as you ask, my address is yours. Just send an email to the other address, no begging necessary.

Thank God. Begging is so unmanly.

She giggled. She also disagreed. She’d seen the puppy dog eyes that Jax used in performance.
I don’t know. I bet you could pull it off without losing any man points.

I’ll let you keep thinking that. In the meantime, I’m still stuck in the dirty thoughts from earlier. I should get off-line. Very bad pun intended.

You do that.
And she’d be a good girl and try not to think about exactly what it was he was doing. Though she wouldn’t try that hard.
Goodnight, Folx.

Goodnight, Love.

Honestly, Lacy was still feeling a bit horny herself, though she wasn’t sure if it was from the flirting or the memories of Eli she’d focused on earlier. Whatever the source, she was aroused. And she still hadn’t gotten a chance to test her orgasm-equals-lyrics theory. She debated going back to her room and sneaking into the shower for alone time. Except, if inspiration struck, it would be a bitch to write anything down in the steamy bathroom and she really didn’t want to wake Andy. What other options did she have?

Lacy looked around the lounge. She’d told Folx she wasn’t alone, but in truth there was no one in sight. The desk clerk was out of her line of vision and no one had been by the entire time she’d been there.

No, no, no. You need to stop thinking what you’re thinking right this minute, Lacy Rae Dawson.

Except, she didn’t stop. What would it really hurt? She could be quiet. And she’d keep all her clothes on. So why not?

Her hand had already slipped past the drawstring of her night shorts and inside the elastic band of her panties. She was even slick with arousal when her finger settled on her clit. A quiet sigh escaped her mouth as she began to circle her nub. Eyes closed, she hummed the tune of the song she’d started writing as she focused on the flirty words delivered by Folx. Then she tried to imagine him—Jax—above her, on her. Inside her. But she couldn’t hold his face in her fantasy.

Her thoughts flew naturally to Eli instead. Earlier that afternoon. The way he’d been with her. How charged their connection had been. His hands on her. His mouth on her nipple. His eyes piercing into hers while his expression showed the effort he exerted. She hummed her tune louder. Then sang it, using whatever came out as a placeholder for lyrics.

“Eli, Eli, Eeeeliii,” she crooned, as the memory overtook her. It was so real she could practically feel his cock thrusting inside her. Could very nearly see his face in front of hers. Could almost hear him calling her name …

Actually, she could clearly hear him calling her name. As if he were standing right there with her. She peeked out of her clenched lids.

And then she wanted to die.

*   *   *

“Lacy?” After he got her name out, Eli was speechless. He was shocked he’d managed even that. The sight of her there … like that … was …
whoa
.

Hand down her pants, her face flushed, her breathing heavy as she sang an unfamiliar melody—and was that his name she was singing? It was a miracle he didn’t take her right there. Not surprising, he had an instant hard-on that was unmistakable beneath his sweatpants.

“Oh, my God!” Lacy’s face reddened as she jumped up from the chair she’d been, uh, lounging in. Her hand flew from her shorts to cover her mouth. Then, realizing where her hand had just been, she gasped again and hid it behind her back. “It’s not … I’m not … this isn’t what it looks like.”

“Huh. I’d love to hear what it really is.” Actually, he really shouldn’t hear it. He’d only come downstairs after his talk with LoveCoda because he’d been so worked up about her that he couldn’t sleep. The idea of her pleasuring herself to his comments made him hot and anxious. How ironic to walk in on another woman doing exactly what he’d been trying to get away from picturing.

How ironic that Lacy was the face he often gave LoveCoda, especially when he pictured her in any sexual way.

Of course, Love was exactly the opposite of Lacy—Love hadn’t gotten any action in almost a year, and Lacy was obviously a sex addict. Too bad.

Also, was it a problem that at the moment he couldn’t think of any reason that sex addiction was a bad thing?

Yes, it was a bad thing. A very bad thing. He’d just committed himself to Love. Again. This thing with Lacy had to end.

“It’s … I’m…” Lacy was still trying to come up with an excuse for her actions. “You know what? This doesn’t really need explaining.” She crossed her arms over her chest—but not before he noticed her nipples were beaded under her tank top. “What the hell are you doing here anyway?”

“In the hotel? Or in this lobby?” So being horny made him a little bit of a dick. Could anyone really blame him?

Lacy rolled her eyes. “In this lobby.”

He couldn’t keep the smile off his lips. She was adorable when she was frustrated. “That’s the only vending machine that has corn nuts,” he said nodding toward the vending machine tucked in the corner behind her.

She followed his nod, her brows knit in confusion or maybe agitation. “Corn nuts?”

“I was feeling a bit hungry and I like corn nuts. Though I seemed to have lost my appetite. For food anyway.”
Watch it, horndog.
“Now back to you—what the hell are
you
doing here?”

She tightened her jaw and raised a challenging brow. “In this hotel or in this lobby?”

“Funny.” It really was kind of funny. He had to hand it to her.

Lacy kept her lips pursed for another beat. Then she sighed. “I don’t know. I wasn’t ready to sleep. And my sister’s passed out in my room. I came down here so I wouldn’t disturb her.”

“I see how you think your actions might have been disturbing. They’d be disturbing to me. In a good way, of course.”
What the hell are you doing? Stop flirting!

“Just…” She covered her face with her hands and shook her head. When she lowered them, he could see her cheeks had brightened again. “Can we just forget this ever happened?”

He laughed. “I don’t think I can ever forget this, Lacy Dawson.” Not in a hundred million years. “But I can try to pretend if you’d like me to.” Because they did have to work together, and that wasn’t really nice to keep hanging the situation over her head.

“I would like you to. Very, very much.”

Eli had never thought of himself as one of those alpha types. He was all man, yeah, but more the artsy sensitive type. It worked for him. No woman had ever complained. But, hell, if he didn’t like the sound of Lacy’s pleading. It crossed to a beg and suddenly he began to see the appeal of a submissive chick.

Or maybe he just liked messing with this one.

“Can I just add one more remark first?” Nice or not, he had to get at least another word in on the subject before he left it alone.

“Do I have a choice?” she asked through clenched teeth.

“You know where my room is. You could have just knocked.” He winked and hated himself even as he did it. This was wrong. So wrong. Only five minutes ago he’d been about to talk dirty to LoveCoda, and now he was down here propositioning Lacy. He was seriously an asshole.

An asshole who couldn’t help himself. Despite his hasty exit after their last tryst. “Standing offer. Right here.”

Lacy studied the carpet, her mood suddenly somber. “About that…”

Yeah, about that. What the hell, Eli? Even if Love wasn’t around, this girl wants Jax.

“We should talk.” They said it together, which made them both chuckle in that weird, awkward, we’re-expected-to-laugh-now way.

“Anyway.” Lacy took a breath then gestured to the chair next to hers. “Have a seat?”

His chest tightened as he sat down. It was a necessary conversation, but this type of talk was never fun. At least that’s the reason he told himself that he was dreading her words.

They could be
his
words, he told himself. He could take the lead and be the one to say what needed to be said. That was a helluva lot easier than hearing it.

That it was the harder part to listen was what made him let Lacy speak. Sometimes he wasn’t an asshole.

“So.” She cleared her throat. “I wanted to say I was sorry for earlier. I realize that I wasn’t fair to you. I used you—”

“It was kind of my pleasure.” He didn’t know if he cut her off because he hated where she was going or if it was because he needed her to know that he’d had a good time. Maybe a bit of both.

“Well. Thank you. It was my pleasure too.” She tucked a stray hair behind her ear, but it immediately fell right down again.

His fingers itched to push it back. Then to circle his touch back around her lobe and down across her jaw. “But…”

“But. I, uh.” She bit her lip, and the memory of the nip of her teeth on his skin burned like a splash of hot oil. “I still want to get to know Jax. There’s a connection I have with him that I don’t know how to explain to you.”

That statement burned even more. He lowered his eyes to study a callous on his fingertip as she went on.

“Even if there’s nothing there. Not because he’s the singer in the band—”

“I know.” This time he cut her off because he didn’t need to hear that from her. “That was shitty of me to accuse you of that. I know that’s not why you’re into him.” Women were just into Jax.
People
were into Jax. He was
that
guy. The one you wanted to hang with. The one you wanted to be friends with. The one you wanted to be important to. He’d felt the same way when he’d met the guy too.

It certainly wasn’t a flaw of Lacy’s to notice Jax’s magnetic awesomeness.

She smiled, and Eli suspected she’d gotten out the worst of her speech. “Thank you. I know I’m being sort of cryptic, and it might seem really ridiculous to you, but we sort of—”

“You really don’t need to explain.” He might understand her attraction, but he didn’t have to hear her break it down for him. Besides, he had his own special connection. With someone who deserved a lot more of his faithfulness. “The truth is, Lacy, I sort of have someone else too.” Eli cringed at his need to say
sort of.
But at least he’d gotten it out there.

Lacy sat up slightly. “Someone back home?”

It made him happier than it should to detect the jealousy in her tone.

“Yeah. Yeah, back home.” In many ways, LoveCoda was his home. And it was easier than explaining the whole thing.

She nodded slowly, and he wondered if she thought he was making it up. Or if she was disappointed. Then he realized she was probably just judging him. “I mean, it’s not a committed relationship—I don’t want you to think I’m an out-and-out cheater or anything.” Why her opinion mattered that much, he didn’t know. “But I think about her a lot. And I feel pretty lousy about us. About what you and I did. It’s not just unfair to her but to you as well.”

She nodded again, and this time he sensed it was a nod of understanding. She confirmed it with her next words. “So we’re both in the same situation, it seems.”

“Seems so.” This was good. Really good. Damn if it didn’t feel more like really not that good.

They sat silently for a few seconds. Right as it bordered on becoming uncomfortable, Eli stood and held out his hand. “Friends?”

Lacy took his hand, her warm fingers wrapping around his before she pulled up to a standing position. She held it for a moment before agreeing. “Friends.”

“Come on. We can at least be friends who hug.” He tugged her into him before she could argue. He needed this. Needed a final embrace. Needed the closure. And the artsy sensitive Eli was back.

Lacy let him hold her, turning her face to lie on his shoulder as she moved more fully against him.

And more fully against his hard-on.

She pulled away instantly. “Friends don’t usually have that, though.” Her eyes shifted down to his crotch then back to his eyes.

“That’s still from earlier.” The attention she was giving it didn’t make him any softer, however. “A guy walks in on a girl with her hand in her pants and that’s what happens.”

Her eyes widened in dismay. “We said we were going to forget that.”

“We said we were going to
pretend
to forget that.”

“Jerk.” But she was smiling, so he knew things were good between them.

“On that note”—it was his turn for his eyes to fall to her crotch—“I’ll let you get back to what you were doing.”

“Stop it!” Her expression softened. “And thank you. Seriously, thank you. And good night!”

“Good night, Songbird.” His chest ached as he walked across the lounge, away from her. Hurt more than he thought it should over a girl he barely knew. Against his better judgment, he turned back to say one last thing. “I have to admit, Lacy, that it’s easy to forget about her when I’m near you. I don’t know what it is, but you really get me going.”