Backstage Pass: V.I.P. (9 page)

Authors: Elizabeth Nelson

BOOK: Backstage Pass: V.I.P.

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His eyes darkened. We’d been good the entire time we’d been at his parents’ and it was the longest we’d gone without touching. Even our kissing had been pretty mellow. I needed one day of regular, non-life-altering, plain-Jane sex.

“How did the weekend go?” he asked playfully.

I curved my hip against him. “I’ll tell you in an hour.”

One eyebrow lifted. “A single hour?”

I chuckled. “You have something else in mind.”

He tossed the duffel onto the porch, squatted, and tossed me over his shoulder. My stomach landed against his shoulder and I squealed. He jogged up the stairs and into the house. I playfully pounded his back, then settled and stroked the length of his spine. God, he felt so good. His hand spread wider across my ass and I wiggled, then slipped my hands into his waistband. I squeezed. When we got to my room, he tossed me on the bed, then crawled up after me, prowling but still exuding all the fun from the last three days.

I laughed and tugged his ear.

He nipped my stomach where my shirt had ridden up, exposing a band of skin. I squealed and grabbed his hair. Everything about him felt so right. He tickled the entire length of my side, making me squirm beneath him. My nipples puckered and he ran his hands beneath my shirt, raising the gooseflesh on my arms. I loved it when he took his time like this, and I could get used to the playfulness of it. I curled my knees and stroked his calf with my toes.

He moaned and rubbed his thigh against mine. Spirals of lust shot across my skin and made my thighs tremble. I needed him. We tossed our shirts across the room and he lowered his lips to my shoulder, nipping and giggling as he counted my freckles. Maybe we’d have to go visit his family more often.

Like it or not, I really was falling for him. This innocence and joy made it seem like everything was going to be okay. Somehow we’d find a way to make it all work. We had our music—or at least a version of it—and school, and a plan, and our families.

His tongue dipped into my belly button and I moaned. Then he puffed his cheeks and blew a giant raspberry, startling me back to the gigglefest at hand. I dug my fingers into his sides and tickled until he stopped blowing those horrible noises and I pushed him to his side. His arm darted up and wrapped around my ribs, carrying me with him. My thighs cradled his hips and we melded together like we’d been poured from the same molten slag.

The joking died as he cradled my face and pulled me down to meet his lips. I let him kiss me and drew my tongue deep against his. I belonged here. No matter what else happened, this was home—now and forever.

I arched up into him and his hand slipped around my back, pressing deep into my spine. Our hips ground together and he gripped handfuls of my ass. We still had way too many clothes on, but he made no move to slip out of his pants. I drew my fingers up his ribs and cupped his chest muscles, kneading his nipples between my fingers and twisting gently.

He mirrored my hands, and we caressed each other, mirth barely contained. I’d never had sex while laughing, but I had a feeling it would still be amazing. Every other time had been.

There were so many facets to him and each one seemed almost brighter than the last. His sense of humor and teasing had drawn me in from the first minute. And now that I’d met his family, he really did seem like the perfect guy. Every time an objection popped up, he swatted it away with some genuine response.

From atop my perch, my gaze roamed his body, from his straight, dark hair, across that stubbled jaw, down his beautiful chest where my hands joined his body. I grinned and drew circles and random shapes on his skin, rewarding him with a lusty kiss every time he got the shape right.

“Trapezoid.”

I rolled my tongue across his ear and breathed heavily. He pinched my hip and drove upward into me. “This has to be my favorite geometry lesson ever.”

I pressed my lips to his neck. “You just wait ‘til we get to physics.”

I was having a tough time keeping it light and playful because I wanted him in me so badly. Heat spread outward from my thighs until I felt like my pants would burst into flame. He rubbed my nipple between his fingers until it crested, then he drew me forward and flicked the tight tip with his tongue.

I moaned and pulled his hair. “I think playtime’s over.”

He ignored me and switched to my other nipple, slowly grinding his hips against mine. We hadn’t made out with this much clothing on for weeks—if ever. I felt like we were back in sixth grade.

His hips jerked against mine and I bit my lip as he grazed a volcanic area. My hands gripped his shoulders. “Jesse.”

He rolled us over and suckled my breast in earnest, flicking the button of my jeans and testing the waistband. His fingers rose back up my belly, gently tickling and drumming out a rhythm. I squirmed.

“I need you to stay out of your head tonight, Sasha.”

My eyes flew open and I was shocked at the vulnerability in his face. He blinked and grinned, tucking it away. His face lowered to my breasts again and he blew a motorboat, pressing both my boobs to his cheeks. I gripped his face and tugged, but he stayed put, blowing air across my skin in the silliest foreplay ever. I wanted to know more about that look he’d just given me. I didn’t understand what there was to be scared of. Everything was great.

I tugged harder and he stopped, but he only tipped his chin against my breastbone and stared at me. “Do you yield?”

I wasn’t sure what he was asking, so I hesitated.

He took that for a no and started again, ignoring every squeal of protest I put up. This time when he asked, I agreed. A triumphant grin spread across his face. Whatever he was scared of, I’d held it at bay for a minute.

If he wanted me out of my head, then I’d play. I dragged my fingers down his chest, scratching his skin gently until he squirmed, then trailing them across his sides to his back. He grinned and cupped my breast.

One hand unsnapped his fly and the other dipped below his waistband. I lifted my knees and shifted all my weight to one hip, ready to run if this didn’t work like I hoped it would. I lifted up off the bed, curled my fingers around his boxers and tugged, giving him a wedgie.

He yelped and I leapt off the bed, laughing so hard I couldn’t even move in a straight line. He grabbed for me, but I jumped aside. With a growl, he pursued me and did a pretty good job of keeping his stern face, but a smile crackled at the corners. “You’ve done it now.”

“No.” I backed against my desk, but there was nowhere for me to go. He lunged and I spun to the side, laughing and squealing. Good thing Kerri had decided not to come back here. We’d never been this silly and I loved it. There wasn’t a lot of space to move, which heightened the entire experience every time his fingertips brushed a part of me and yet I still managed to escape his clutches. His hip knocked against the chair, dislodging a tower of papers on the corner of my desk and sending stuff everywhere. Papers and pens went flying and sliding to the floor.

I crossed my arms over my chest and I gave into the fit of giggles.

“What’s this?” He set a stack of papers on the table and he reached for—

I gasped.

His demo disk.

Our gazes clashed.

“What the hell, Sash?”

He lifted the CD, effectively dousing every single ounce of lust. Embarrassment flooded my cheeks. “I meant to send it.”

“What the hell.”

“I meant to.”

“When?”

I didn’t have a good answer or effective apology.

He stood. “Dammit, Sasha, now it looks like I’m a flake. She asked for that weeks ago.” He drove a fist into the desk. “Weeks!”

I flinched.

“I’m sure she hasn’t noticed.”

He held up a flat hand. “Don’t. Just don’t. I left this to you because I thought you cared.”

“I did—do. I do care. I’m sure it was a favor—”

“I’m not asking for a favor! I’m calling you out for blatantly disregarding a request. She asked for it. I’ve never—not once—since I found out about your dad—asked you for a damn thing. I’ve been supportive. I’ve given. That’s how relationships work, Sasha. You give without expectation.” He shook his head and his eyes filled with a growing disappointment. I should apologize.

But I wasn’t sorry.

And that was the rub.

About the Author

After earning a master’s degree in secondary education from UNC, Elizabeth Nelson worked abroad teaching English, bar-tended at late night clubs in Chicago, and continues various philanthropy projects that focus on empowering women. But her love of writing never changed.

Want to see what happens next with Sasha and Jesse?
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Sasha knows that the way things are with Jesse is more than half her fault. Everything had been going so perfectly and she managed to throw it out the window. Now she has to decide if he’s worth the fight or if it’s time to move on. Is dating a rock star—something she’s sworn she’ll never do—really worth the constant struggle? She is pretty sure that walking away would be easier.

But Jesse isn’t completely blameless either. So when he starts to forgive her and he goes to her house to try to make amends, they’re both blindsided by how they feel for each other. But picking up where they left off isn’t an option. They have to start over. At the very beginning.

And now Jesse is going on tour—something he’s been working so hard for, and something Sasha helped him reach. She knows it’s going to be hard, but she’ll be there supporting him every step of the way, and he’ll be doing the same for her. They know that heartbreak isn’t sustainable, but love is, so this should work.

Finally, Sasha is able to meet up with Jesse and see him perform. But what she sees makes her question every decision they’ve made together. He’s a rock star, living a rock star life. That means drugs, alcohol, and groupies’ relentless pursuits of the man she loves.

Will she be able to find the balance she needs to stay with Jesse? Will their love endure? Or will what she finds him doing on tour be the deal breaker of all deal breakers?

One Last Thing. . .

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