“Drew,” James called out, “you in there?”
Drew cursed under his breath, and Ashley let out what sounded like an extremely frustrated sigh. And as James let himself onto the bus, she grabbed her computer and slid out of the booth.
“Hey, Ashley,” James said, “how’s it going?”
“Good,” she replied, but Drew could hear the way the four letters trembled slightly on her tongue. As if she was as twisted up over missing out on their kiss as he was.
“I’ve been texting you for fifteen minutes, Drew. We’ve got to get to the photo shoot before the photographer the label hired has a coronary.”
The very last thing he was in the mood for today was posing for a bunch of pictures, even if the photographer was reputed to be one of the best in the world. But his mother had taught him not to take his career for granted—and not to waste anyone’s time either—so he stuffed away his frustration as best he could. He slid out of the booth on the side opposite Ashley, who was standing by the table holding her laptop in front of her chest like a shield.
“Ready to go?”
For a moment, he worried she was considering going back to keeping her distance the way she had for the past few days. But, thank God, she nodded and gave him a small smile instead.
“Let’s go.”
* * *
Moment by moment, as Ashley watched Drew during his photo shoot, the heat built inside of her. And when the photographer—a woman who clearly wanted to have Drew for lunch and dinner—asked him to take his shirt off, Ashley actually started to worry that someone on set was going to slip on her drool.
The last week had been the biggest tease of her life, and she had finally hit the point of no return. She’d never been a sex-crazed person—at least, she hadn’t thought so, not when she’d easily managed to hang on to her virginity for twenty-two years. But today the sound of Drew’s laughter and the way his bare abs rippled sent every last hormone into overdrive. Especially after he’d told her how much he missed her, and then had been on the verge of kissing her again.
So when the photographer said, “You’re looking amazing, Drew,” for the millionth time and the woman’s assistants chimed in to agree, Ashley knew it was long past time to deal with the heat inside of her in the hopes that she could function at least halfway normally again.
She got up out of her seat, intending to slip away. Everyone but James was taking the day off while Drew did this shoot, and though there were several people there from Drew’s record label, they weren’t paying any attention to her. Ashley tried not to run off the set, even had a conversation for a good fifteen minutes with the guy running the craft services table in the next room, but she couldn’t remember ever feeling like this before, where she could only think of one thing: sex with Drew Morrison.
His hands on her.
His mouth on her.
His body moving over hers. Into hers.
Oh God...she was just making it worse, having these thoughts, letting herself spin off into fantasies again before she got back to the bus, where she could lock herself in and finally try to take the edge off her insane need.
Her hand shook as she typed in the code to unlock the bus’s door. Jesus, she was panting, too. Crazy. This was crazy. Crazier than she’d ever been before.
With Max on a day off as well while they stayed overnight, the bus was completely empty and silent. Of all the things she’d expected to learn this summer, she’d never imagined that one of them would be how to sneak away to touch herself on a tour bus. But as she locked the bus door behind her, she was too far gone to care.
The curtain was pulled in front of her bunk—she tried to be extra neat in such close quarters. She yanked it back and threw herself on the small bed. She didn’t even take the time to kick off her shoes before pulling her skirt up and slipping her hand against her heated, already damp skin.
It wasn’t nearly as good as she imagined Drew’s touch would be, but it was so much better than continuing to suffer with no touch at all, the way she’d been for the past week.
She still remembered how it had felt when he’d kissed her on the beach. The way his tongue had stroked over hers. The way his teeth had scraped her lower lip. The way his hands had gripped her hips to squeeze and pull her closer. So close that she’d easily been able to feel just how much he wanted her.
Ashley closed her eyes, and as she lay back on her pillow, letting her legs fall open even wider, she pretended he was with her in the bunk, kissing her again right now.
Would he say she was beautiful?
Would he take her shirt in his fist and rip it away so that he could kiss her breasts, too?