Blind Attraction (7 page)

“You guys should close the door, unless you want people to join in.”

She gasped.

Mitchell swore.

“Get outta here, Blake.” Mitchell stepped away, leaving her half-naked and vulnerable on the bed.

“The light was on. I thought I’d check on Alana. It’s not my damn fault you left the door open, you grumpy fucker.”

“I’m fine—”

The door slammed, startling the life out of her.

“Sorry. I didn’t think.” He huffed out a breath. “I didn’t even contemplate them waking up. I should’ve—”

“Only goes to show how sex starved you are, brother.” Blake teased through the door. “Seducing a chick who can’t even see your ugly face.”

Alana pressed her lips together, holding in the laughter that wanted to break free.

“Go fuck yourself, Blake.” Mitchell’s leg leaned against hers.

“Will do.” Blake’s voice was distant. “Night, Alana.”

“Night,” she called out, smiling.

Something touched her head and she jerked back.

“It’s my shirt.” He pulled it down over her face and with numb limbs she lifted her arms into the holes.

What was with the clothes? Weren’t they about to… Christ, she was confused.

“I’m going to set up a bed on the sofa.”

She tilted her face in the direction of his voice and frowned. “Mitchell?” Surely he couldn’t take Blake’s comment seriously.

He ignored her. “The boxer shorts are on the bed beside you. Do you think you’re able to get them on by yourself?”

Her throat dried. She reached out her arm and felt around until she found the silk material. “Sure.”

“I’ll be back to turn out the light in a few minutes.” Without another word, he left, the soft clasp of the door announcing his departure.

Trying to ignore what happened, she stood and yanked off her jeans. She threw them to the floor, along with her socks and bra, then pulled on his boxers. The clothes were way too big and smelled like him, alluring and masculine, and way too annoying when she knew he wouldn’t be sleeping anywhere near her.

She was sitting back on the corner of the bed when a light rap came at the door.

“I’m decent.” Although she didn’t want to be.

The door opened, and she clasped her hands in her lap, her eyes still closed. She waited for her confidence to build, for her opening to ask him to stay or even to lie beside her for a little while. She refused to be remembered as the woman who made the famous rock star sleep on the sofa.

“All right, I’ll turn off the light so you can go to sleep.”

“There’s no need to sleep on the sofa. I’m sure the bed is big enough for both of us.”

The door latch clicked.

“We’re both tired, Allie. Your eyes need rest to recover and I don’t want to risk disturbing you.”

Brushed. Off.

She’d never played the needy card before. Unfortunately, tonight she had the best hand. “But what if I need something before morning? What if I wake up and need to go to the bathroom or get a glass of water?”

Silence.

“I don’t want to yell out and wake everyone.”

He cleared his throat. “I can sleep on the floor in here then.”

“No.” She shook her head with a huff. “You can sleep in the bed. If you’re worried about me groping you, or sniffing your hair during the night, you can rest assured I’ll stay on my side.”

He laughed, long and loud, the sound growing closer with each passing second. His weight came back between her thighs, his breath back on her skin.

“It’s not you I’m worried about.” His fingers ran through her hair and she leaned into his caress. “You’re probably still in shock. And Blake’s right. You don’t even know me, can’t even see me. I don’t want you to regret anything when you wake up.”

“Nothing needs to happen.” She found the sides of his thighs and moved her hands up to rest at his waist. “Just sleep.”

His lips brushed her cheek. “If I stay,
you
can rest assured I won’t get a lick of sleep because all I want to do is grope you and sniff your hair.”

Mitch punched his pillow and changed his position for the eighty-fifth time. The temptation to kiss her not only made him restless, it made his cock hard. There’d never been a more inviting pair of lips. He could see them clearly in his mind, luscious and full, still glossy from the last swipe of her tongue. He’d done well to refrain. And holy fuck, if he didn’t get a ticket into heaven for doing it, he’d be pissed.

Every time he looked at her he became entranced by her long brown hair, her mouth, her dimples. Then his gaze would focus on her eyes and he’d cringe. Blake was right. He needed to back off.

Alana wasn’t a hussy. He remembered the way she startled at his touch when they first met. She’d been wary, not slutty—coy, not cocky. He couldn’t ignore that. If he kissed her now and she did melt in his arms, he wouldn’t be sure where her consent came from—desire, exhaustion, or even delirium.

His unwelcomed change into a boy scout didn’t mean he’d stop wanting to sleep with her. He only needed to refrain from seducing her until she could see who she was sleeping with. Or at least get enough rest to ensure her best judgment.

“You’re not comfortable?” Her voice was soft and tired.

He pushed out a breath. “I’m comfortable enough.”

“You can’t sleep because you want to grope me and sniff my hair, right?” She snorted and he wanted to smother himself.

He reached under the covers and poked her in the ribs. “You’re blind and in a predator’s bed. I’d stop tormenting the bear if I were you.”

She sniggered and he smiled at the sound. Her beauty had him in awe. Not only the defining facial features which made her appear angelic, but her attitude, her innocence, the way she made him chuckle. She didn’t fawn over him or treat him like a god. And he liked it.

“You…don’t scare me.” She sounded confused.

“And that surprises you?”

She let out a long sigh, paused a moment, then gave a derisive scoff. “I’m different, Mitchell. I’m not used to…people. I’m not familiar with the real world.”

He frowned. “What do you mean?” He turned to face her, using the opportunity to move a little closer before leaning up on one elbow.

“I live on a retreat outside of Monument, Colorado. My upbringing was…different. I didn’t get the chance to travel into town often, and my interaction with people only came from those who stayed on the property, or the occasional delivery driver. So I thought I’d be more…nervous and uncomfortable in a foreign place, surrounded by strangers. And yeah, it surprises me that I’m not.”

Mitch couldn’t contemplate the solitude. He grew up in Brooklyn, New York, and when Reckless Beat hit the big time, he moved to Manhattan to be closer to the other band members and their studio. He wouldn’t know the first thing about nature or serenity or isolation. “Do you like it?”

Seconds passed.

“For most of my life it was all I knew. I was homeschooled so there weren’t many children for me to play with. When I graduated, I did a photography course online, and the few times I left the property to go into Monument or Colorado Springs, I didn’t stay long.”

He felt the bed shift with her shrug. “But now I’m beginning to think that lifestyle won’t be enough for me.”

She fell silent and his mind drifted from the beauty of nature to the beauty of her body. He bickered with his libido and tried to convince himself to roll over. At the moment, Alana lay right in front of him, her features shadowed, her hair aglow from the red digits from the alarm clock. He stared at her, his gaze roaming the sheet clinging to her breasts and thighs and back to her face. Her breathing changed, each exhale coming longer, each inhale deeper until there was no mistaking the sound of slumber.

Damn it.

He fell onto his back, waiting, wondering when his cock would take the hint and stop its salute to perfection. With a huff he rolled over, gave his pillow a covert uppercut and resigned himself to reciting chords, lyrics, or baseball scores until his mind and body numbed to the point of unconsciousness.

Mitch opened his eyes with a start, and he leaned up on an elbow to determine what woke him. Alana lay peaceful beside him, resting on her belly, hugging her pillow.

“Sorry.” Kate’s voice drew his attention. She had her head poked inside the door, her body out of view. “I need to wake Alana so I can go home and get ready for work.”

He placed a finger to his lips and slid from the bed. When he reached her he jerked his head toward the lounge room. She frowned, turned on her toes, and walked ahead.

“I’ll look after her today,” he whispered, his voice groggy from sleep.

Kate glanced at him over her shoulder.

He held his hands up to halt her reply. “She can’t take care of herself, and I don’t have any plans. Just give her a call when you finish work and we can go from there.”

She turned to him and narrowed her gaze. “She’s not a groupie. She won’t enjoy being treated like one.”

He raised his chin, annoyed at her assumption. More so in the fact she would’ve been right if they were discussing the treatment of any other woman in his past. “I know.”

Kate opened her mouth and closed it again.

“Look, I like Alana and don’t mind spending time with her while you’re at work.” He shrugged, acting blasé when he felt far from it. “She’s safe here with me.”

She gave a flirtatious smile. “I doubt it.”

Yeah. So did he. He wouldn’t admit it though.

“Fine.” She opened her handbag, rummaged through the contents, and pulled out a business card. “Here’s my number. If there’s any problems, call me and I’ll try and get someone to cover me at work.”

He reached for the girlie pink card, but she held tight. “Promise me you’ll treat her with respect.”

He yawned, scrubbed a hand through his hair, and pulled his tired gaze up to meet hers. “No problem.”

Kate scrutinized him, her brows deepening with each passing second until she released the card and turned with a sigh. “Make sure you text me later so I have your number.”

He watched her leave, trying not to fall asleep in the middle of the entryway. After he locked the security latch behind her, he grabbed a glass of water, used the bathroom, and tiptoed into the bedroom. His angel still laid peacefully, her body now on its side, curled into the pillow. The scratches on her face had lost their bite, no longer standing out on her beautiful skin.

Making sure not to wake her, he climbed onto the bed. He stared at her, watching her eyelids flicker, her chest rise and fall. He’d promised to be respectful, and he had no intention of reneging, however, it wasn’t his fault if Kate’s definition varied from his.

With a kiss goodbye to his inner boy scout, he shuffled forward, breathing in her floral scent as he approached. He curved his body into hers, thigh to thigh, her back to his chest.

There was nothing disrespectful about spooning. They both had clothes on, there was no sexual interest. Well fine, his hardening cock disagreed, but he had the big man under control. He just wanted to be close to her. To appreciate her delicate skin and the soft curves of her body.

Once she woke, he would blame his proximity on his movements during sleep. Until then, he would nuzzle the back of her neck and hope to hell he received another opportunity to be this close to her. Respectfully, of course.

* * *

Alana gradually woke from a deep sleep, climbing layer upon layer of drowsiness until consciousness greeted her. A delicious warmth coaxed her back into slumber, but her pillow was hard as stone and made her jaw ache.

She blinked open her eyes to bright light and blurred vision. Panic stole her breath. She couldn’t see. Why couldn’t she see? She pushed from the hardness below her, blinking in quick succession to alleviate the dryness while her heartbeat thundered in her chest.

“Sweetheart, it’s OK.”

Large hands gripped her wrists.

“It’s Mitch.”

Her heart stuttered, and then slowed as the memories of yesterday began to clear.

Mitchell Davies.

Shattered glass.

Warm breath and sweetly whispered words.

She squinted at where her hands rested. Oh. No. She’d mauled his chest.

“Human pillow, at your service.”

She groaned and jerked away, wanting to dive under the covers to hide the heat warming her cheeks.

“Oh, no you don’t.” Strong arms encased her waist and pulled her into his embrace.

Another groan escaped as she rested her face on his hard pecs, again. “I bet I’m making a lasting impression.”

His chest convulsed with laughter. “I didn’t mind the cuddling. I wasn’t a fan of the drool though.”

A gasp burst from her lips and she sat up straight. “No way.” There would be a lot of comfort food in her near future if she’d drooled all over the chest of a celebrity.

His laughter grew. “I’m joking…I’m joking. You should see the expression on your face.”

Alana whacked him, hard, and smiled when his mirth died with an “umph”. The next second, she was on her back, his body on top of her, his thighs straddling one of hers. His weight made her breath catch, not because he was too heavy, because he was too delicious. Too damn inviting. Strong and powerful, yet gentle in the way he clasped her wrists above her head.