You Really Got Me (Rock Star Romance #1) (22 page)

No, no, no
. She would not let this bitch get the better of her. “You bet.”

But Piper had already turned back, arms linked with Slater on one side and Derek on the other as they headed toward the press area. Emmie walked several paces behind.

Her chest hurt as she stewed over Piper’s behavior. Because no matter what the guys thought of Emmie, they’d leave her at midnight. They’d be alone on a bus with Piper Lee for two and a half months. And Piper was charming and gorgeous.

She was also the “Next Big Thing,” the wildly talented songwriter and singer, and Emmie was—as the bitch had so nastily pointed out—a personal assistant. A damn good one, but still. She worked on the sidelines.

Oh, dammit all to hell. She hated feeling like an outsider. Hated it.

Slater glanced over his shoulder, gave her a look that reminded her exactly what he wanted to do to her, and the ache in her chest eased a little.

No, she wasn’t a musician. She’d never be an artist, but she was damn good at getting shit done. Maybe that would go on her headstone: Emmie Valencia. Got shit done.

Slater turned fully around, giving her his full attention. “Hey, is that Chase Lansford?” he asked, gesturing at someone in the crowd.

Emmie’s heart expanded, appreciating the way he put her back in control. “It is. He’s waiting for an interview.”

“Let’s do it,” Derek said.

The guys headed off, but Slater held back. Leaning close to her ear, he said, “She only thinks she can play us ’cause she doesn’t know us yet.” He kissed her neck. “But she will.”

Twenty minutes turned into hours as Slater and the guys had to endure interview after interview and then listen to other bands throughout the park at the insistence of Piper’s A&R guy. Then, they had to have a business dinner with all of Piper’s people to discuss more tour details. Slater’d kept Emmie by his side, kept a hand on her the whole time, but really, all he wanted was to get her alone.

By the time they finally pulled up to the house, a whole crew had gathered to celebrate their success at ACL and their departure. As the band piled out of the van, Slater held on to Emmie’s hand, not letting her out. He dug into his pocket and slapped the car keys in her hand. “Enjoy your wheels.”

Where she should’ve thrown herself at him, she held back, looking worried. “I’ll only use it to get groceries—”

He shut her up with a quick, hard kiss. “Em, it’s a car. I want you to use it. What’s mine is yours. Do you understand?”

Her features softened, her lips tipped up at the corners, and she scraped her fingers into his hair “Slater.”

Car doors slammed around them, laughter and voices filled the air, and he brought her hand to his mouth, kissing her palm. “Slater’s the guy onstage. Right here, right now, with you, I’m Jonny. Okay?”

“Okay.” She breathed it into his mouth, right before she tilted her head and kissed him. And just like that he was gone, lost in the soft, wet heat of her mouth, the tangle of her tongue, and the press of her fingers into the muscles at the back of his neck.

“Keep it in your pants, asshole.” Derek leaned into the window. “That’s my sister.”

She laughed, holding Slater close.

“Come on.” He slid out, caught her hand in his when she met him in front of the car, and rushed her into the house. Somebody had turned the stereo on too loudly, so he went to lower the volume. Emmie broke away and headed toward the kitchen. He yanked her back to him. “What’re you doing?”

“Shouldn’t we put out some food? Drinks? I mean, they want to be with you on your last night.”

He drew her in close, wrapped his arms around her. “It’s my last few hours with
you
. That’s all that matters. Now either get up those stairs of your own free will, or I’m carrying you.”

She let out an exaggerated sigh, rolling her eyes. “Fine. I suppose I could be alone with you.” She looked wistfully at the crowd already spilling into the kitchen, already with drinks in their hands, already dancing and rubbing up against each other. “I was hoping to rub against some sexy rockers, get my ass groped, but—”

Was she referring to the night she’d come home from her date with Hector? Grasping her ass, he pressed her to him. He didn’t stop there, letting his hands inch lower. “I was drunk, Em. I was jealous and angry.” He tongued her earlobe. “But I’ve got you now, and I’m taking you upstairs.”

Her knees buckled, and she leaned against him. “Mm. You should probably carry me.”

He lunged for her, leaning in and tossing her over his shoulder in a fireman’s hold.

“I was kidding. Let me down.”

Not a chance in hell he’d put her down, not when he could take full advantage of her position and fondle her gorgeous ass.

At her bedroom she started to set her legs down, but he shook his head. “Shower first.”

“What is it with you and showers?”

“Do you have any idea how many chicks touched me today?” He made out like it was just exhausting.

“Oh, that’s nice.” She swatted him, pretending to look offended.

“Hey. Hot sun, ninety-minute set. I’m showering.” He set her down, kicking the bathroom door shut and locking it. “Naked. Now.” Reaching in, he turned the water on, making it hot, just as she liked it. He toed off his boots, ripped off his socks, then stripped out of his jeans and T-shirt.

“No underpants?”

He shrugged. “I just did my laundry. Everything was clean, so I didn’t want to use any of it.”

“I wish I’d known that.”

He smiled, painfully aroused. It only got worse when her breasts jiggled as she pulled off her blouse. “So you could fantasize about my package?”

She didn’t even crack a smile. “So I could’ve reached down your pants and touched you.” She gripped him in her hand, and electricity raced along his nerves. “I would’ve liked that.”

He couldn’t take it anymore. He unbuttoned the top of her jeans, unzipped them, and then tore them off her body. He pulled back, taking in her black-lace thong. “What the fuck is this?”

“A going-away present.”

“But you hate these things.”

“Yeah, but you don’t.”

Hooking a finger in either side, he knelt as he eased them down her legs, licking her inner thighs. She shuddered, her legs trembling. He balled the thong in his fist and stuffed it in the wastebasket. “I don’t need to see you in shit like that unless they make
you
feel good. I just want you.”

Hands on her hips, he buried his face between her legs and kissed her, his tongue licking into the curls, delving into her juicy folds. He fucking loved the way her hips bucked wildly. The sounds she made drove him out of his mind.

He stood up in a rush, crushing her to him, taking her in a bone-melting kiss, as steam swirled around them and her hands moved restlessly down his arms and around to his back.

“Get in.” He backed her into the shower stall, walking them both under the hot spray. He loved when she tipped her head back, closed her eyes, and let the water cascade down her beautiful body. He loved the water coursing over her breasts, and he couldn’t stop himself from filling his hands with all that plump, soft flesh. Her eyes popped open, blazing with need.

He sucked a nipple into his mouth, came alive when her hands grabbed his hair, pulling him closer. His mouth moved from one breast to the other, knowing exactly how wild it made her. His fingers rubbed over one nipple while his tongue licked the other.

He moved them out of the spray, backed her to the corner, and then got to his knees. He licked into her, felt her juices on his face, heard her soft moans. His fingers curled inside her, stroking her harder, faster, in tandem with his tongue, which licked in silky swirls around her clit.

“God, Slater. I . . . oh . . . God.” Her fingers fisted in his hair, her back arched away from the wall, and her hips rocked. Her cries grew louder, more desperate, and a rush of moisture spilled into her pussy. Holy fuck, he had to fist his cock, had to start pumping, because he couldn’t take the building pressure anymore.

And then her hips bucked, her body went rigid, and she held tight against his mouth.

He barely gave her a chance to calm down before he got up, spun her around, clamped his hands on her hips, and jerked her back to him. Holding her firmly in place, he thrust into her incredibly slick heat. She cried out, rearing back.

“Fuck.” Oh, holy hell, he wanted this woman like nothing he’d ever wanted in his life. One hand took its fill of her breast, his fingers reaching across to touch the other nipple at the same time. He rubbed his palm across them both, making her grind against him. She swiveled her hips, pushing back hard. He pinched each nipple in turn, back and forth, faster and faster, while his hand dug into her hip, holding her tighter against him.

Blood roared in his veins, and desire raced through him, making his heart beat painfully. Tension coiled tighter and tighter, and he was going to come too soon, way too soon. Oh, fuck, why couldn’t this last forever? Please, not yet. But, God, her nipples scraped against his palms; her tight, wet heat pulsed and clenched around him. Her wild cries sounded like she was completely out of control . . .

And then she threw her head back with a cry of release so intense it just undid him, and he came in a soul-gripping, thunderous roar. It just kept coming, the sensations so ferocious he had to keep pumping into her.

And then she collapsed against the wall, breathing erratically. He didn’t want to let go, so he belted his arms around her waist, rested his chin on her shoulder. Both of them continued to pant, bodies glued together, the thick steam making it hard to breathe.

Or maybe knowing he was about to leave her made it hard to breathe.

Pussy
.

He’d wanted their time together to be what convinced her to stay with him, so he hadn’t pressed, hadn’t brought it up at all. But time had run out. And he didn’t know what she was thinking.

All he wanted was to get into bed with her. “Come here.” He reached for the soap, lathered up his hands, and ran them over her back. He loved the feel of her slender shoulders, the delicate bumps of her spine, the incredibly sexy curve of her waist, and the flare of her hips.

His hands slid around to her breasts, and desire stirred yet again at the feel of her nipples hardening in his palms. He growled, not wanting to get worked up again, just wanting to get her into bed.

“What are you doing to me?” she asked breathlessly.

“I’m . . .” he said, his mouth at her ear, his hands gently lathering her breasts, fingers running over her nipples, around the slightly bumpy skin around them. “Memorizing . . .”

She sucked in a breath as his hands stroked slowly down her ribcage, tracing every rib in a swirl of suds, then over her stomach, his pinky dipping into her navel, fingering its shape.

“Every line, every bump, and every”—his hands dipped between her legs, rubbing slow circles—“curve of your body.”

“Oh, my God.”

He ran his hand along the seam of her ass, and he could feel the gooseflesh pebble her skin. Her head tipped back, resting on his shoulder. Tilting her chin, he brought her mouth toward him and kissed her, plunging his tongue into her wet heat. When she wrapped her arms around his neck, locking them closer, her breasts swayed, and his erection pulsed and throbbed. He pressed between her legs, and she squeezed them tightly together.

Filling his hands with the soapy, firm globes of her ass, he was ready to take her all over again. But not here, not now. He wanted her in bed.

He walked them under the stream of water, rinsing off the soap, then smacked the faucet with the heel of his hand. Snatching a towel off the rod, he wrapped her up. “Bed.”

“You have to be at the bus in a little over an hour. Don’t you want to make sure you’re all packed?”

“I want to get into bed with you. That’s all I want.”

Because he just didn’t know if he’d still have her once that bus took off.

—

The smell of diesel exhaust filled the air. Cars with their lights on, engines idling, were parked haphazardly around the parking lot. Emmie watched the guys toss their duffel bags and suitcases into the bay of the forty-five-foot tour bus, while the bus driver tried to stop them and make some order out of the chaos.

A finger tapping her shoulder had her spinning around. Tiana stood there, eyes glittering with tears. They fell into each other’s arms. “I’m so glad you’re here,” Emmie said. “I’m about to lose it.”

“I know.” Tiana pulled away, running her fingers under her eyes. “Smudges?”

“No, you’re good. So, I saw you guys ‘talking’ at the show.” Actually, they’d been making out and rubbing up against each other. Emmie gave a hopeful smile. “What happened?”

“Nothing’s changed. We love each other, but he’s going to go out there and do his thing, and I’m going to stay here and do mine. God, I’m an idiot, but I love him, so . . . it’ll be what it’ll be.”

A whoosh of air had the doors closing. Emmie’s stomach plummeted. She hadn’t known what to expect, but she certainly hadn’t thought he’d take off without saying good-bye. Of course, they’d had a pretty intense good-bye in the shower and then again in bed just a half an hour ago.

Tiana bumped shoulders with Emmie. “So, you’re here. Does that mean you’ve decided to go for it?”

Had she? She couldn’t imagine ending things with him. She’d never felt closer to anyone in her life. But they couldn’t sustain it. It just wasn’t possible given the directions their lives were taking. Once she got promoted, she’d be busy 24-7. She’d be totally immersed in her bands. And him? It’d already started for him.

She pulled in a shallow breath. Funny how she could physically feel the tug-of-war between her heart and her head. Which would win? “I . . . I don’t know.”

Tiana frowned. “Hey, let’s get out of here. You want to get a drink?”

Emmie wanted to go home and crawl under the covers. But that would be the worst thing she could do. “Sure. Meet you at Empire?”

Tiana nodded. She got into her car, tapped the horn, and then took off.

Emmie turned back one last time to watch the bus go, but it wasn’t moving. Should she just leave? Or wait for her heart to take off into the night? Only a few cars remained in the lot, but no one else stood there like a lovesick high school girl. And, yeah, she realized they could all see her through the window. She was making a fool of herself.

So what? She didn’t care. She wanted to watch him go. She brought her hand over her mouth as she whispered, “Thank you.” No matter what happened, she’d always, always have these last eleven days.

She pulled her keys out of her pocket, walking backward to his car. “Bye.”

And then the whooshing sound filled the air, and the doors pulled open. Two long legs swung out, arms braced on the handrails, and boots hit the asphalt. Slater sauntered over to her, his gaze locked with hers, looking fierce and pissed.

“Fucker wouldn’t let me off the bus.”

Emmie hid her big smile behind her hands.

“Actually thought he’d take off without me saying good-bye to my girl.”

Emmie broke into a run, throwing herself into his arms. He caught her, lifting her off the ground and holding her tightly as he swayed back and forth. “I’m going to miss you so much,” she whispered into his neck.

He tightened his hold, and she burrowed into his neck. Then, he set her down. “You don’t have to miss me. I’ll talk to you every day.”

Emotion rose, gathered in her chest. She couldn’t think, couldn’t speak.

“Don’t let your past make your decision. Let
us
make it.”

“Hey,” the driver called.

“I have to go.” He kissed her, and she started to pull away, but he tugged her closer and deepened the kiss until she sagged in his arms. He smiled against her mouth. “You’re my girl.”