“Oh, I’m sure you can be.” She lifts an eyebrow. “And you don’t think it’ll be awkward—us living and sleeping together?”
I cup her cheek with my hand. “Things are only as complicated as you make them, darlin’.”
I watch, rapt, as she processes my words.
“No complications. No ties. Just sex.”
“Just sex,” I murmur before pressing a kiss to her lips.
I can feel her body softening beneath me, giving in to me.
She puts her hands in my hair, running her fingers through the strands. “And when the tour ends, so does our arrangement.”
Will I be done with her by then?
Yeah, I think I will be.
And I’m still keeping my promise. Only sleeping with one woman. No screwing around.
Perfect.
“When the tour ends, so do we.” I tilt my head back, enjoying the feel of her gentle fingers running across my scalp.
“Okay…I’m in,” her breathy voice whispers.
Then, her hands leave my hair. I open my eyes, missing the feel of her, only to find her hand stuck in front of my face. She’s holding it out to me like she wants me to shake it.
“Er…what the fuck do you want me to do with that?”
She gives me a sardonic look. “Er…shake it.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Do we need to spit on them first, you know, to seal the deal properly?”
“Just shake my hand, assface.”
“Firecracker, when I shake on something with a woman, it always involves tongues.” I take hold of her hand and run the tip of my tongue very slowly up her palm. Reaching her middle finger, I lick my way up and then suck it into my mouth.
She shudders.
Smiling, I make my way down her sexy little body. I hook her leg over my shoulder and press my tongue straight onto her *.
She gasps, her hands going for my hair.
I suck her clit into my mouth and push a finger inside her. Then, I go to work until she’s writhing beneath me, unashamedly fucking my mouth.
She couldn’t be any hotter if she tried.
Then, she’s coming off the bed, crying out a bunch of expletives, as she orgasms into my mouth.
And I lap up everything she gives me.
I wipe my mouth on the back of my hand and climb up her trembling body. I press a kiss to her lips. “There—it’s a deal.”
I push myself up, jumping to my feet. “I’m just gonna grab a bottle of water and fuel up. You need anything?”
She gives a small shake of her head a stunned look on her face.
Chuckling, I say, “Two secs, darlin’, and I’ll be right back to give you that fucking we both need.”
I grab a water from the fridge and quickly down it before getting another to take back with me.
When I get back to the bedroom, she’s still lying where I left her, blonde hair splayed across the pillow, looking liking a goddess.
“Hey,” she says, resting up on her elbows, pushing those gorgeous tits of hers up into my view. “In the elevator, you said you had something for me. Did you actually have something for me? Or was I right, and it was actually just a euphemism for sex?”
“No, pessimist.” I lean against the doorjamb. “I actually have something for you.”
Her face lights up. I like the way it makes me feel.
Putting the bottle of water down on the dresser, I head to my overnight bag and pull out the plastic carrier containing what I bought for her earlier.
This is a first for me. I’ve never got something for a woman I want to fuck or am actively fucking.
I feel a quick stab of nerves that she won’t like what I bought her. Then, I slap that * thought right out of my head.
“It’s not much,” I say, handing the bag to her. “But I saw it at the gas station when we stopped this morning, and it had you written all over it.”
I watch her face as she reaches into the bag and pulls out the yellow Angry Birds T-shirt.
“Angry Birds,” she reads. “A is for angry.” She lets out a giggle.
Then, without warning, a broken-sounding sob follows.
She slaps a hand over her mouth, surprise and tears filling her eyes.
The breath is knocked out of me.
Shit.
“Christ, Lyla, I didn’t mean to upset you.” I reach for her, pulling her to me.
“You haven’t. I love the shirt…I do. It’s just…the cartoon T-shirt thing was something my mom and I shared. She’d always buy me a new shirt while she was on the road. I carried on the tradition after she died, and no one else has ever bought one for me but her.” She rubs away a tear that has fallen.
The sight of her crying makes me feel like I’ve been sucker-punched. I’ve never been affected by a woman’s tears before. But seeing Lyla cry bothers me—a lot.
“I meant to buy a shirt from each city we visited, but there hasn’t been time to get to the store since we’re always so busy when we stop. Then, before I know it, we’re back on the road. We’re nearly two weeks into the tour, and I haven’t bought single T-shirt.”
I cup her face. “We’ll start now.” I rub my thumb over her damp cheek. “I’ll make sure we carve out time in each city to get to a store and buy you a new shirt.”
Hopeful, beautiful blue eyes blink back at me.