All Over You (5 page)

He wasn’t asking me, he was flat out telling
me what was going to happen between us, and
yet I
felt myself nod, felt my body mold against his the moment his warm
lips sought out the center of my throat.

“You smell like apples,” he whispers harshly
before his tongue darts out to trace the column of my throat. I
moan, letting my head fall all the way back. “And you taste like
the best kind of sin.”

The best kind of sin. God, I wish he wouldn’t
say things like this—not when I was supposed to be delivering the
wardrobe for today to Wyatt. And certainly not when I wanted to
completely wrap myself around him.

Tori was right about another thing—it had
been too long since I’d let myself go.

“You’re going to dinner with me,” Lucas
says, trailing his full lips along the outline of my chin and
causing my throat to go dry. “Tomorrow night. We may get naked
afterward, we might not, but you’re going to eat dinner with me.
And I’m sure you’ll go to bed with me, too.”

I pull away and the back of my head thuds up
against the glass behind me. Lucas gives me a look of cold
disapproval when I press my palms against his chest so he won’t
screw with my head long enough for me to regain my senses.

“
It’s usually a
better idea to ask someone, not tell them,” I say, feeling a surge
of defiance pulse through me. “How do you know I even want to go?
And what makes you think I’ll wind up in bed with you?”

He entwines his strong fingers in my hair,
drawing a sound that’s full of surprise and anger and to my
surprise, desire, from me as he uses his other hand to effortlessly
remove my palms from his chest. “Because you want me inside of you
just as bad as I want to be there. Because you’re wet right now
just thinking about one night with me.”

“One night stands don’t talk to each other
like that,” I point out breathlessly.

“If you’d like I can meet you in a bar and we
can do a little role play before getting down to it.”

God, what else was he going to suggest we do
together? I begin to give him a hot reply, one that’ll probably get
me fired from this shoot, but he releases my hair and brings his
hand around to cover my mouth.

I don’t like the way he gently rakes his long
fingers across my lips, so that my mouth wets his skin, or the way
there’s a giant part of me that’s absolutely loving what he’s doing
to me. That desperately wants to do this with him.

He’s right. I do want him inside of me.

“You’re not going to tell me no,” Lucas says,
lifting my hand to his lips. He skims his straight white teeth
across the tips of my fingers and delicious tingles race under my
skin. “Not for dinner, at least. I don’t need to pressure a woman
to go to bed with me, so after we eat tomorrow night, you’re free
to go home.”

“Does this always work for you?” I ask. When
he cocks his eyebrow, I add, “Telling someone exactly how it’s
going to be. Not asking but ordering.”

My chest tightens when a smile inches across
his face, as he moves his lips closer and closer to mine. He blows
on the corner of my mouth, fanning my face with warmth, the scent
of spearmint.

I want this man to kiss me. There’ve been so
many times that I laughed about people falling head over heels for
each other at first sight, but this is so different. This is head
over heels in lust. This is—

He finally gives me what I want, slanting his
lips over mine and crushing my body to his so hard it leaves me
winded. I expect him to put his hands all over me, but instead, he
simply cups either side of my face. And maybe it’s the way his
tongue greedily probes mine, or the way his fingertips massage my
skin, but this is the most possessed by a man I’ve ever felt.

Lucas pulls away entirely too fast, too
abruptly, and I’m left wanting more. He gives me an even look, as
if he’s waiting on a response from me so I give in.

I give in because I want to let go, at least
for a night.

“Yes. I’ll have dinner with you, Lucas.”

After Sienna leaves my dressing room, her
face flushed, claiming she’s got work to do, I decide I want
wardrobe available on set for the shoot today. Kylie comes in a few
minutes after I text her, and the moment she steps in, she sniffs
the air.

“You wearing Bath and Body Works now, Luke?”
she demands, cocking an eyebrow and racing her fingers through her
multi-colored hair.

I lean against the table I’d had Sienna
pinned against only minutes before, and match my sister’s
expression. “Care to elaborate?”

Kylie crosses the room, plops down on the
sofa, and props her feet up on the table in front of it. She’s too
relaxed to be working, and I give her a tight look. She shrugs
sheepishly. “Just saying this entire damn room smells like Country
Apple. You know the kind a certain redhead would probably
wear.”

“I need you to tell McBride that I want
wardrobe on set today,” I say, steering the conversation away from
Sienna. I dig my hand into my pocket, flicking the guitar pick I
shoved into it early this morning.

A shit-eating grin crosses Kylie’s face, and
I groan. “Why would you need wardrobe to watch you guys shoot?”

I grant my sister a sardonic smile. “Why
would you need to question it? Just tell him.”

Making an exasperated noise, Kylie shoves
herself off the sofa. “I want a raise.”

“You make enough.”

“You’re a dick,” she says, as she heads to
the door. When she looks back, she’s still smiling. “Nobody else
would put up with you.”

How many times have I heard this from her?
“Want to find out?” I challenge.

She rolls her brown eyes. “Go for it, but
you’ll be calling me in, like, 24 hours saying”—she clears her
throat and when she speaks again, her voice is dropped low, mocking
me—“Fuck, I screwed up, Kylie. Fix it.”

I cross my arms over my chest, glaring at
her. “Just go give the message to McBride.”

Kylie shuffles off, whining about how she’d
rather be in Cancun as she slams the door. At least she wasn’t
pining over Wyatt. I’d rather hear her bitch about low pay any day
of the week over that shit.

When she returns twenty minutes later to find
me playing my guitar, she lets me know that they’re ready for me. I
go out into the hallway, but Kylie lags behind.

“What?” I demand.

She hesitates, biting her bottom lip, before
saying, “I’m not going to have any part in whatever you’re doing,
Lucas.”

“Don’t be an—”

This time when Kylie speaks, she shakes her
head violently. “I mean it. Not. Watching.” After I turn to stalk
away, she adds cheerfully, “Have a good shoot.”

One of the security guards shadows me after I
reach the end of the hallway, and when I reach the set, I realize
that there are twice as many guards than there were yesterday.
Wyatt had mentioned this morning that the place had been overrun by
our fans, but I hadn’t noticed it.

I had been too preoccupied by Sienna.

McBride is shouting commands, telling us
where to stand and as I step onto the set, which is nothing but a
green screen, Sinjin gives me a half smile as he takes his drum
sticks out of his back pocket. Make-up must’ve had a time with him,
considering how fucked up he’d looked first thing this morning with
bloodshot eyes and an even shittier attitude.

“You and the redhead?” he asks, his gaze
wondering to where Sienna’s on the sidelines with the loud-ass
woman who must be her boss. I shoot him a look.

“None of your business, Sin.”

“You send her my way when you’re
through?”

Over the years, I’ve learned control. I know
not to let the stupid shit that comes out of Sin’s mouth push me
over the edge, but right now, I want to slam my guitar into his
throat. I glance down at the floor, and my eyebrows draw together
into a scowl as I say, “Let’s just get through the goddamn
shoot.”

Sin shuffles away to his drum set, and Wyatt
shoots me an apologetic look from a few feet away as he shifts his
guitar around. I’m surprised he’s not bitching about having to
air-play—he whines every shoot—but he’s probably expecting a fist
fight between me and Sinjin to start at any moment.

It’s not like it hasn’t happened before on a
video shoot.

McBride steps in front of the green screen,
gives us a few more instructions and we adjust where we’re standing
accordingly. Fifteen minutes later, shooting begins and the
pre-recorded sound of my own voice fills the studio.

I don’t seek Sienna’s eyes out until after
the first few lines, and when I lip synch a promise about how I’m
going to take some woman home and bend her over the countertop, I’m
talking to her. Even from where she’s standing far away, I see her
chest expand as she brings her fingertips to her mouth. By the way
her jaws are moving, I know she’s got her teeth together. Fuck, I
can practically hear them grinding over the sound of my own voice,
and I vow to punish that perfect ass every time she does that with
me tomorrow night.

And she’ll do it—there’s no doubt in my
mind.

We go through the take twice more, and Sienna
stays rooted to her spot, only leaving once to grab coffee for her
boss. Her blue eyes never drop from mine, and when she sighs at the
line where I swear I’ll make her mine, I know I’ve just
accomplished it.

I know that I’ll possess her and afterwards,
I’ll do something dangerous and stupid for a woman I’d known for
forty-eight hours, for a woman who’s already managed to climb under
my skin like no other before her.

I’ll keep her.

The thirty hours left till dinner feel like
some of the longest hours of my life, and I occupy myself with
working as hard as possible (avoiding Lucas), sleeping (trying not
to fantasize about Lucas), and school work (skipping over every
Your Toxic Sequel song on my playlist as I study).

Lucas is still everywhere, though, and
whenever I close my eyes or take a shower I can see his lips moving
seductively to the sexy lyrics of “All Over You.”

By the time Thursday evening comes, I’m a
nervous wreck. My roommate wanders into my bedroom as I’m applying
my makeup.

“You’re red as a cherry, Sienna,” Tori points
out as she slides down on to the edge of my bed. I glare at the
mirror, and when she glances up, catching my reflection, she gives
a careless shrug. “But if you want me to lie, I can do that too.”
She clears her throat and adds, “You look awesome right now,
roomie.”

“Don’t be a bitch.”

She sighs and stretches out on her stomach,
keeping her eyes on the mirror. “Maybe I’m just jealous. I mean,
what girl hasn’t dreamt about sexing up a rockstar?”

My hand jolts, and I barely miss spreading
mascara across my left cheek. I toss the tube down on my dresser,
deciding to pick it back up once Tori’s not around to make me
twitch. “It’s dinner,” I remind her.

“With you as a dessert,” she immediately
fires back, waggling her dark eyebrows, and I grunt.

God, why the hell had I told her that he’d
said that to me?

“Besides,” Tori drawls, “I don’t know anyone
who’d dress like that for only dinner.”

I flush from head to toe because as much as I
hate to admit it, she’s right. The short black asymmetrical dress
is classy, don’t get me wrong, but it’s the strappy black mile-high
heels that all but scream, “Screw me, Lucas.”

My eyebrows knit together, and I glance
behind me to meet Tori’s dark eyes. “Is it too much? I mean, I
don’t do this much.”

Actually, I never do this at all, which is
why I’m still stunned I’m going out tonight.

Tori forces her lips into a tight line,
shaking her head. “No. I know exactly what you’re thinking, Sienna
Jensen, and I’ll slap you in the head if you dare call him to
cancel. I mean, it’s the exact same thing as meeting a guy at a
bar. Except you don’t have beer goggles on. And it’s Lucas
Wolfe.”

“Way to make me feel better,” I say in a flat
voice.

She shrugs, flashing a giant grin as she
pulls her fingers through her black hair. “That’s what I’m here
for, babe.”

Lucas shows up fifteen minutes later, and
Tori looks like she’s close to pummeling him when she lets him in.
He drinks me in, starting from the top of my head—frowning at the
sight of my hair which I’d put up in a messy updo—and pausing for a
long time at my shoes.

“You look good . . .” he says, his voice
soft, and I’m able to mentally add in the words that seem to hang
in the air.

Enough to eat.

Dressed in dark jeans and a black Henley that
hugs his muscles and exposes the tattoos on his wrists, he does
too.

Lucas’s hand finds the small of my back as we
take the elevator down to the ground floor, and he leads me to a
sleek, blue Maserati. I pull in a breath through my teeth. “Nice,”
I say, glancing up at him, and he gives me a cocky partial
grin.

“Glad it meets your approval.” He opens the
passenger door for me, but blocks me from getting inside, squeezing
my body up against his. Dragging his fingertips through my red
hair, he murmurs, “Don’t put your hair up around me, Sienna.”

It falls around my shoulders in a cascade of
waves as I nod. “Okay.”

Lucas leans in close to me, dipping his mouth
to my ear. My pulse goes into overdrive, and it’s an effort to keep
my breath steady. “You look scared,” he whispers.

“I’m not,” I lie.

“I won’t hurt you.” His breath caresses my
earlobe, my neck, and my bare shoulders. When he pulls back, the
corner of his mouth is upturned. “At least not in a way that won’t
make you come all over my bed.”

I’m shaky when he helps me into the Maserati,
so I cross my legs at the ankle, falling back against the plush
leather seats. Then he climbs into the driver’s side, giving me a
look that holds so much promise that I clench my fingers around the
fabric of my short black dress.