Perfecting Patience
Page 18

“Stay here. I’m going to run and clean up a bit. I’ll be right back. Don’t move, okay?”
I nodded my head and he turned and walked away. His shirt was sticking to him. It’s amazing the sweat they worked up on stage. Thirty minutes later, the stage was still and the crowd was gone. The room was silent as I walked out on the empty platform and ran my fingers across the different instruments.
Tiny’s guitar was sitting in its stand and when I ran my fingers across the strings, the entire room seemed to vibrate. I snatched my hand back quickly and stepped away. I bumped into something solid and turned around to see Zeke grinning down at me.
“You like that way that feels?” he asked.
“What?”
He reached out his hand and strummed Tiny’s guitar again, and again the stage seemed to vibrate from the bass.
“That,” he said as he ran a hand up my bare arm.
I felt my cheeks fill with heat when I caught his meaning, but suddenly I remembered the girl running up on stage and kissing him. The anger peaked again, and I rolled my eyes.
“I can tell you what I don’t like.” I stepped back.
He followed me step for step. “And what’s that?” he asked with a raised brow.
Damn, he was sexy.
“I don’t like those girls kissing you, but you seemed to like it just fine.” Turning my head away, I swiped at the hair in my face.
His rough fingers caught my chin and he turned my head to face him again.
“Are you jealous, snowflake?”
More anger hit me.
“No, I’m not jealous. I’m just saying.” I rolled my eyes again.
“That’s so fucking cute. You’re jealous.”
I took in a breath, ready to yell at him and deny my bright-green feelings, but before I could speak, he moved in and caught me around the waist.
“You’re the only girl I want. Do you trust me when I say that?” he asked.
Swallowing hard, I shrugged my shoulders instead of answering.
“Do you?” His fingers dove into my hair and I almost purred out loud. “I need you to trust me, baby, and if you do, I promise I’ll never do anything to break that trust.”
Leaning in, he placed his warm lips against mine, and I forgot all about the girls who ran half-naked across the stage. Who cares what they did? He was mine.
He slowly walked me backward until the back of my knees hit something hard.
“So tell me, snowflake. Do you trust me, pretty girl?”
Again, his hand moved down my bare arm and his fingers caught mine.
“Yes,” I whispered.
“Good. Now, let me play for you.”
His tongue slid across my bottom lip before it slipped into my mouth. Minty sweetness invaded my tongue, and I moaned softly against his mouth. I didn’t flinch when he slowly started to push me down into a seated position. What was hard behind my knees was now hard underneath me as I sat.
He broke the kiss and stood above me, looking down with red-hot lust in his eyes.
“Don’t move from that spot.” He ran a finger down the side of my neck and into the top of my tank top. My nipples hardened and I leaned my head back to give him more of myself.
Backing away, he picked up Tiny’s bass guitar and grinned at me.
“I’m pretty sure Tiny’s going to kick your ass for messing with his precious guitar.” I chuckled.
“I’m pretty sure if knew what I was using it for, he would approve.”
“And what exactly are you using it for?”
No sooner than the words left my mouth, Zeke strummed the guitar. Vibrations shot between my legs and up into my core. I gasped and looked down in shock. I hadn’t paid attention to what I was sitting on, and now I could see it was a speaker.
I looked up at him with wide eyes, and he was closer. The mischievous grin on his face let me know he wasn’t done. Taking another step in my direction, he strummed it again, and again, the chord he played bounced inside the speaker and worked its way up between my thighs. The tiny bundle of nerves around my pleasure point jumped with the vibrations, and I couldn’t help the tiny sigh that drifted from my lips.
“Again?” he asked with a raised brow.
I swallowed hard and licked my lips anxiously. What kind of girl would I be if I asked him to keep going? Would he like that? I wanted more than anything to turn him on, but someone could be watching. Better yet, someone could walk out on this empty stage to break down everything at any moment.
He took another step toward me and held his hand above the strings as if he were about to strum it again.