I flag the bartender and order a round of tequila shots for everyone. When they arrive, I lift a lime wedge off the tray that accompanies them and spin around to face Adam. He spent the entire road trip trying to convince me to do a body shot with him, and now, I’m finally going to. “Open.”
I resist the urge to bite my lip between my teeth when his gorgeous lips part at my command, his eyes filled with a storm that promises to consume us both. I can feel other eyes on me too, but I ignore them and place the lime wedge between his teeth.
Adam closes his lips around my fingertips, the warm wetness on my fingers creating warm wetness between my thighs. I flick my tongue over the hollow of his neck before I lose my nerve, sprinkling salt onto his skin and dipping my tongue slowly, slowly into it. His fingers tighten around my sides when I suck the last of the salt off of his neck, and I quickly swallow the tequila shot. The fiery liquid blazes down my throat and into my belly as I lean forward to bite the lime wedge from his teeth.
Adam lets it fall from his mouth before I can. His lips crush against mine and his fingers scrape against the back of my scalp to lock me in place. My hands fist in his shirt, and he steps tight between my knees, tugging me forward on the stool until he’s fitted against my heat. I whimper against his mouth, and he breaks his lips from mine to press his lips against my ear.
“Here or the bus?” he purrs.
Last time he kissed me like that and asked me to go to the bus, I told him I just wanted to be friends. This time, I say, “Bus.”
Adam is lifting me off the stool a second later. He takes my hand and whispers something in Shawn’s ear on our way out, giving clipped responses to every fan who tries to spark up a conversation along the way.
“What did you say to Shawn?” I ask when we emerge outside, on the same stoop Adam comforted me on the night we first met.
He wraps his arm around my shoulder to ward off the cold while we practically sprint toward the bus. “I told him the bus is off limits to anyone without a death wish.”
“You did not!” I gasp, and Adam laughs at me. He unlocks the door to the bus and opens it for me, and then he steps on behind me and immediately tugs me back against him, his hands splayed along the front of my hips. “Do you know what I wanted to do inside?” he asks.
“Hm?”
His fingertips glide under my top again, snaking up my stomach and over my bra. He clutches me possessively, his hands squeezing and kneading until my head falls back against his chest. His lips feast on the curve of my neck a moment later, and I wrap my arms behind his neck, drunk with desire for the man who put my heart back together and finally has his hands on me.
“Fuck,” Adam breathes when I grind my ass against him. He reaches down to hold me still, and I know he’s holding back. He said he was afraid of pushing me too far, so I take the lead, threading my fingers with his and tugging him away from the door. I don’t stop until we’re in the black-satin bedroom.
“Peach,” Adam says from the doorway, his voice cracking with restraint.
I turn around and flatten my hands against his chest, staring up into the same eyes I fell in love with in a line outside of Mayhem. “Ten.”
His brow dips with confusion, and I continue staring up at him. The first time he brought me to this room, he asked me to count backward from ten to prove I was still sober enough to not be taken advantage of. I need him to know that I know exactly what I’m doing and I’m doing exactly what I want. “Nine.”
Recognition begins to dawn across his features, and I continue counting. “Eight.”
The sexiest smile tugs at his lips, and he takes a step forward. I take a step back.
“Seven,” I say with my knees pressed against the edge of the bed, and he begins crawling over top of me. The restraint in his expression is gone, replaced by a predatory smile that makes my heart patter against the wall of my chest while I inch farther onto the bed.
“Six,” I say, and Adam’s hands push my top up until he’s sliding it over my head and tossing it over his shoulder. He drops his lips to my neck, and my breaths quicken.
“Five,” I breathe, reaching behind my back and unclasping my bra.
Adam’s fingertips graze softly over my shoulders as he pushes the straps down. He drops the bra to the floor, and I say, “Four.”
He kisses an invisible line between my breasts and down my stomach, and then he slips off my shoes, planting a soft kiss against my ankle before grasping the waistbands of my skirt, leggings, and panties. He pulls them down in one slow motion and sits on his knees to rake his eyes over every inch of me. His tongue traces the seam of his lips, and I moisten between my legs.
“Three,” I say, bringing him back to the moment.
He takes off his shirt, and I quickly say, “Two.”