Turn It Up (13 page)

“Welcome back, sugar. The night is upon us and filled with the sleepy sounds of the world at rest. If you’re joining me, it’s because you too are a being of the night. We live and work while others sleep, an echo to their daily grind. Night grinding is always more fun, don’t you think? So do your business and grind with me. Let me take you to my Eden, my nighttime paradise. Bask in the rhythms of the classics, let them soothe your worries away. Let’s work on some ‘Night Moves’ with Mr. Bob Seger.”

The music keyed up and filled the room, Charlie swaying in her chair. An unfamiliar creak tickled the hair on her neck and she spun to the door. After Justine had left, she’d engaged the alarm. No one could have gotten in without a card key. Only a few people had them but none were due in for hours. Her eyes flew to the wooden baseball bat Bastian insisted she keep behind the door. Too far. In her purse was a can of pepper spray, but her purse was in the break room.
Shit.
Well, the hot wax might come in handy after all.

A single daisy held in a masculine hand reached around the doorway. “I come bearing gifts.”

A smile fought the stiffness she forced into her mouth as Bastian stepped around the door frame. How adorable he looked when sheepish. Those toffee eyes darkened to caramel and his strong shoulders slumped. He held the daisy out to her but she ignored it, not ready to forgive just yet.

“Is there a diamond clause in accepting a flower?”

“No. Just a ‘forgive me for being a dick’ clause.”

The bright pink Gerber daisy had been plucked from the potted urn outside the station but the gesture was sweet. By allowing her smile and taking the stem from his fingers, she transformed his face. Gone was the hound dog frown, and the gentle grin she loved appeared.

“I’m sorry. Can we chalk it up to blue balls talking?”

“Wow, your balls sound just like you.” She twirled the flower under her nose once before laying it aside, a splash of color in the dim room. “You meant it or you wouldn’t have said it, even in anger.”

“Okay, I meant it.” He shrugged. “I think you’re hiding behind sex to not face your feelings. But I didn’t have to say it like that so, I’m sorry.”

Silk and chocolate were the two most decadent things she knew, but they couldn’t compete with his voice. If he could carry a tune in a two-handled bucket, he’d give Caz a run for his money. Instead, he simply thrilled her daily by saying her name.

“I’m pushing too hard, I guess. I never meant to make you feel cheap. Far from it, you’re worth waiting for. For a night or a month or a year, whatever it takes, I’m here forever. When you’re ready to say yes, the offer stands. Cold showers never killed anyone, I guess.”

Her throat ached and her eyes stung. No one knew her like Bastian. Somehow, he always knew exactly what she meant and what she wanted, even when she was confused herself. “So still no sex without a yes?”

His normal chair sat empty and he eased into it with a sigh. She felt his restraint like an invisible wall. Walls that shouldn’t be breached because they grew out of the thing she loved most about him, his steady, unwavering integrity. It also irritated her to no end.

Pushing the hair out of his face, he leaned forward. The familiar concentrated stance tugged at her heart. “Forget the show and the race or contest or whatever you want to call it. Go back to the lake, what I told you there. I want to show you love outside the bedroom before I show you inside. I’m not dangling a carrot and, despite the Honeypot, I know you’re not that free with your body. I want to show you forever is real.”

One finger held up, she swiveled and punched in another song selection. The move gave her time to digest his words and phrase her own. Talking with Bastian had always been easy but sometimes she simply didn’t have the words to give him. Somehow, even then, he seemed to know her heart.

She faced the console, unable to face him. “Love isn’t easy for me, you know that. My track record sucks. I just don’t know if I can be what you need me to be.”

“I need you to be yourself. Why would I want you to change?”

His sweetness made her teeth ache. People didn’t really talk like this, did they? Her eyes dropped to his hands and she curved hers around them. He echoed the move, lacing his fingers in hers. Drawing strength from his touch, one fear spilled out in a whisper.

“And what happens if, for whatever reason, I can’t say yes? If I can’t marry you, then what happens? Do I lose everything?”

There was no hesitation in his words, not the smallest flicker of doubt. “I’m not going anywhere. Part of believing in forever is believing in your partner. I’ve always believed in you. I know you believe in me. You just have to get used to the idea of believing in
us.
”

“Pretty tall order.”

“Nah, you already believe it inside. Come on, you’ve let me drive your Firebird, haven’t you? That takes a lot of believing.”

The tease worked like a magic spell, calling forth a smile where she thought none existed. Tugging on his hands, she pulled him closer and smacked his lips with hers. He pulled her back and pressed a firmer kiss to her mouth before releasing her. He winked.

“I brought you another present. Want it?”

A laugh shot through her, pure unfiltered joy. “Are you trying to bribe me into forgiving you?”

“I’m not above it.” He shrugged.

“Where is it?”

“Change the music, I’ll be right back.”

He was gone only a minute but it was enough time for her to intone a few steamy words over the air and cue up a commercial block. The next three songs waited a simple finger touch.

“Close your eyes.”

She clamped her eyes shut until a slight chill passed her face and then she popped them open without permission. Ben and Jerry’s Cherry Garcia tempted her, opened, spoon at the ready, in all its rich pink ooey-gooeyness. She had the spoon in her mouth before she took the carton from his hand. Luscious chocolate and cherry exploded on her tongue, her eyes closing in bliss. Bastian knew her well. Nothing soothed a bitch like Ben and Jerry’s.

His soft laugh broke through her solitary delight as he sat back into his chair. “Watching you eat ice cream is like pornography. No one else I know enjoys it like you do.”

Licking one escaped smear off the spoon, Charlie grinned at him. “That’s why I ration myself. I like to prolong the anticipation between treats. You should understand the theory.”

Sensual tension flared as their eyes locked. With slow, measured movements, she dipped the spoon and brought it to her lips. The frozen cream was scooped by a teasing tongue. His indrawn breath stroked her inner diva. Three more sensual bites had him fisting his hands. When he licked his lips, she spooned out a bite and held it to him.

“Come and get it.”

She pulled the spoon back, drawing him near, before allowing him to taste the ice cream, millimeters from her mouth. He took the bite, smiling at her in lusty patience before whispering, “Dead air.”

Her touch sparked more music to life. While her head was turned, his chilled lips fell on the curve of her neck. Freezer-cold and fiery-hot, his mouth scored a line up her jaw to lick the cherry from her mouth.

“I hate Cherry Garcia.” His words were chocolate-flavored. “But I love you.”

Charlie ignored the last half of his sentence. “It just means more ice cream for me.”

He leaned back, removed the carton from her hands and fed her a small bite. “I learned something about you today.”

“Oh? What?” A full cherry found its way onto her tongue.

“You’re a noisy lover.”

She shrugged. “I don’t hold back. Sure you can handle that when the time’s right?”

“Absolutely.” He fed her another bite. “No way you faked that.”

“No way.”

He blew out a breath. “You’re going to keep tormenting me, aren’t you? Teasing me until I think about nothing else but making love to you?”

“Absolutely.”

Ice cream melted in the carton as she pressed her lips to his. She slid from her chair to his lap, legs straddling his hips. Cold fingers skimmed her hips before stroking her back, pulling her tight. Charlie loved the feel of him beneath her. In tune with her every move, he echoed her mouth with abandonment. Sex with him would be fantastic.

The selected songs played through and the ice cream softened while they kissed, never once parting. Just before the last chords of Led Zeppelin faded, Bastian released her mouth and allowed her to turn.

Nuzzling her hair as she cued up more songs, he cupped her breasts, circling hardened nipples through her blouse. Her hips rocking back into his forced an anguished groan past his lips.

“I have to go. My shift starts in a few hours. And I’m going to try to be here when Nathan comes in.”

A discontented purr escaped but she eased back to her own chair.
Prolong the anticipation.
“See you tomorrow.”

“Yeah. I wonder if there’s a world record for cold showers in one day.”

Her laugh made him smile, and his smile warmed her soul. Cherry Garcia couldn’t hold a roman candle to the sweetness in Bastian Talbot.

At the threshold, he stopped, hand on the frame. His eyes snagged hers and held them.

“Charlie, about what you said while I was in the shower…I’m well aware that you don’t need me for certain things. But I’d like to think you want me. Just in case, I got you another present.”

He drew a small white bag from his pocket and tossed it to her. She caught it awkwardly in one hand, juggling the carton in the other. Then he was gone. She set the ice cream on the console ledge and opened the bag. The outer door latched as her laughter burst out.

Bastian had bought her batteries.

Pain throbbed at the back of her skull. Charlie rubbed the knot of exhausted tension out of the base of her neck and dared a glance at Bastian. A tic jumped in his jawline. The hard glower lasering from his eyes should have made Nathan wet his pants but the geeky little station manager ignored it, all puffed up with his self-importance.

“You think I’m joking? I’ll cancel that fucking show faster than you can slap a flea.”

“So do it,” Bastian snapped. Charlie jerked her head toward him and her jaw dropped. What was he doing? Bastian knew she needed this job.

Nathan pointed his skinny finger in Bastian’s face. “Don’t tempt me. Do you have any idea the cost of one FCC fine? That little smut show of yours costs this station a pret—”

“Bullshit!” Bastian spat. “The delay works fine and Justine does her job. That little smut show has doubled your listener numbers and tripled the advertising income of this spit-dot station. Charlie and her shows are your prime draw. So you got one fine. Big fucking deal. She’s brought in more than three times that in revenue and you know it. Lay off the big-man shit and pay her what she’s worth before she finds a better offer.”

Nathan pinned his greedy, beady eyes on her. “You leaving?”

A sickening churn in her stomach, Charlie dropped her eyes to her knees. “I told you I sent résumés out. Haven’t heard anything positive on them, though.”

“Then you need to listen up. I approve all show topics and contests, not you. Stop going off on this half-cocked bullshit.” A sneer twisted his thin lips as Nathan settled back in his chair. He speared Bastian with what Charlie assumed was supposed to be a fierce look but it came across as constipated. “And speaking of half-cocked, you keep your dick in your pants until the Summer Kickoff.”

“Pardon me?” Bastian gaped.

A squeak shrilled through the room as Nathan shifted forward on the rickety office chair. “Actually, I don’t care who you bang. Fuck her raw if it makes you happy, but on air, you play it all virginal and you—” he snapped his face toward Charlie, “—can run off to Atlantic City or Vegas with Elvis himself. But
on air,
Honeypot and Dr. Hot keep this shit flowing. The numbers are up and this little stunt is working, so milk it. One of you can cop to caving at the Kickoff, not until.”

“You are such a fucking hypocrite,” Bastian snarled.

Nathan grinned an oily grin. “Whatever. It’s my name on your paycheck so you do what I say.”

Bastian opened his mouth but Charlie clamped her hand on his knee and squeezed. “Right, we got it. Come on, Bastian. You have to get to the hospital or you’ll be late.”

Bastian fumed until they hit the parking lot. Bright sunshine blinded her and Charlie dug in her bag for her sunglasses. The throb in her skull intensified in the light, and she gritted her teeth against the stabbing pain.

“I hate that bastard.” Bastian leaned against her car door and blew out a harsh breath. “He uses you and pays you shit then makes you listen while he plays lord asshole. Someone needs to turn him in for harassment.” He scuffed his sneaker toe into the gravel. “You know, Charlie, I hated the idea you started looking elsewhere for a job but, damn it, I hope you get an offer soon just so you can tell him to kiss your ass. If it wasn’t for you, I’d tell him to pucker up and kiss mine right now.”

“Ignore him.” Even behind the darkened lenses of her sunglasses, bright lights popped and flashed. The mother of migraines was brewing and she did not need Sir Bastian the Belligerent shouting his annoyance in her ringing ears. “His father owns the station and he’s got this mistaken idea that gives him leeway to act all dickish. I just nod my head and do my own shit. It works and he knows it. Let him crow.”

Bastian tugged her close and rested his forehead against hers. “I don’t need this job, but you do. Sorry I lost my temper in there.”

“’Sokay.” She dropped a quick kiss across his mouth. “I like it when Dr. Hot gets all worked up. Turns me on.”

Bastian chuckled and wrapped his arms around her waist. “Nathan told me to behave, remember? I have to listen to the boss so certain parts of my anatomy are off-limits to you. Unless you want to answer a certain nuptial question…”

“Go to work. I need to go to bed and for once, I mean to sleep. See you tonight. You’re buying the pizza.”

“Time to wake up, sleepyhead.”

Charlie attempted to burrow back under the covers, but they were too heavy to move. She tugged but they wouldn’t budge.