The Best Kind of Trouble
Page 75

“So. Tuesday.” Damien prodded from the back. “You gonna share what’s going on there or what?”
“Nothing’s going on there. She’s a beautiful woman. She’s our Nat’s best friend. Just being friendly.”
Paddy laughed at that. “If I was that friendly to Tuesday, Natalie would smother me with a pillow in my sleep.”
“That’s because I’m the superior brother.”
“Fine. Button up and don’t tell us anything. You’re stingy, Ezra. Selfish and stingy, and you’re going to hell.” Vaughan whapped the back of Ezra’s head, making him laugh.
“Asshole. I’ll see you there, I guess.”
“Paddy has his own table. I guess he can make us all set it perfectly over and over until the end of time.” Damien snorted.
“That’s purgatory, though, right? Like when we finally get it right, we can advance to heaven?”
It went on that way the rest of the way back to the ranch.
* * *
HE’D ONLY BEEN home about twenty minutes, long enough to build a fire and change into a robe—he planned to sweet-talk her into a shower with him—when she knocked on his door.
He opened up. His heart always beat faster when he caught sight of her, and that night she’d looked so f**king gorgeous, so rock and roll in her unique, Natalie way that she stole his breath.
“Come in out of the cold, gorgeous.”
She kissed him quickly as she passed, and he shut the door, closing the night away.
“I think we should shower, and then I propose food. I’m so hungry but I’m sticky and sweaty, too. So you can rub me clean, and I’ll watch you look gorgeous and wet, and then I promise whatever Mary has left in my fridge.”
She gave him a look over her shoulder and went upstairs. He followed, entranced by the switch of her hips as she led the way.
“I really like those pants.”
“I forgot I had them. I suppose now might be the time to confess Tuesday is much better at this sort of dressing-to-be-the-girlfriend-of-the-lead-singer-of-the-band thing than I am.”
He laughed, swatting her butt. He’d taken her bag downstairs so he tossed it in his bedroom, and then they headed into the bathroom to grab that shower.
“Let me.” He pushed her hands out of the way and pulled her shirt off, and then the undershirt. “I like this bra.” It was blue, like the undershirt had been. Blue against all that pale, creamy skin. He hummed and pressed a kiss to the luscious curve of her right breast.
“It’s new. The bra, I mean.”
“I love it when you do that.”
He unhooked the bra and bared her br**sts.
“Buy bras?”
He popped the top button of her pants and unzipped. And dropped to his knees to help her from the boots before he pulled the pants down.
“Well, now.”
The panties had a corset sort of lace-up thing at the front. Dipping enticingly low to expose the top of her pu**y.
“Those are new, too.” She turned, and he saw the back had the same lace-up V at the butt.
“Daddy like.”
He slapped her butt.
She got the giggles, and he joined her, surging to his feet and pulling her close. “Damn, I’m lucky.”
She sobered. “You are. Also, the hot I just got off stage sweat is now edging into I stink territory.”
He shoved her underpants down and dropped his robe before stepping into the shower stall and turning it on full blast.
“Used to be I’d smell like sweat, booze and cigarettes. Now that you can’t smoke in as many places, it’s one less thing to stink me up.”
“You can add women to that list.”
He grinned. “Woman? Because my hands smelled like you after I f**ked you in my dressing room. I like that way better than cigarettes.”
“You sure you want to go down this conversational road while we’re naked?”
He soaped up, watching her do the same. He might have had a death wish to talk about groupies—and he knew that was where the discussion was heading—while they were naked and in close quarters. But at least it’d be while he watched soap slide over her ni**les.
“I hate it. Just telling you up front. I know it’s part of your world and all, but I hate it. It’s bad enough that you’re gorgeous and charming and rich and famous. But that backstage stuff? Women just offering you sex every few steps? I don’t know what to do with it.”
“You know I’m with you, right? That nothing would happen ever? I get all I need at home, you got me?”
“And what about when you’re out on the road and you’re not home? What about when you come off the stage and you’re all...well, the way you are and you want to get off, and I’m not there?”
“Are you so quick to assume I’d cheat on you instead of jerk off? God. I like to think you know me better than that. What have I ever done that would indicate to you that I’d f**k you over?”
She stood under the water and he realized he was dumb for pushing this discussion. He wanted her pliant and warm, not pissed off.
But now he was pissed off, too, because he hadn’t done a thing to make her distrust him.
“As it happens, I don’t think you’d cheat on me. I said the same to Mary last month. But what? Am I supposed to lie about how it makes me feel? Am I supposed to pretend? I’m trying and I know you are, too, but you asked me and kept asking until I answered. I’m sorry, though, that I hurt your feelings.”