Feverish (Bullet #3) (27 page)

He laughed again. “I wanna know what you say
after
tour.”

Emily didn’t have an answer for that. Surely,
she’d have to know that Dennis, their manager, was starting to get
the tour organized, even though the album hadn’t even been recorded
yet. Spring would be here before they knew it. Clay loved the
excitement of a live audience, of thousands of fans swaying to the
music, moshing in the pit, throwing up the devil’s horns, roaring
and screaming and singing along. There was nothing like that
energy, and the only thing better was how he felt when he was lying
next to Emily.

Emily just smiled sweetly and nodded. Then
the waiter brought their drinks and set them in front of them. “Are
we ready to order?”

Clay picked the first thing off the menu that
sounded good, trying not to let Emily’s lack of response get to
him. Deep down, he knew she was going to leave before the tour. He
didn’t know when, but he could feel it. When the waiter left, Emily
said, “I need to run to the ladies’ room. Be right back.” She
kissed her dad on the cheek and walked through the room away from
them.

Clay couldn’t take his eyes off her. Jack
asked, “How long?”

Clay was still thinking about Emily leaving
and the tour. “What do you mean—how long till the tour or how long
it’ll go?” But he caught her father’s eyes and realized he’d
misunderstood.

Jack smiled. “How long have you known you
love her?”

Oh, goddammit. Clay could have kicked
himself, because he might have dressed like Jet, but he’d been Clay
the whole time. This woman was doing it to him. He couldn’t put Jet
on like he used to. What the fuck was wrong with him? And now…now
her dad knew just how far he’d fallen. And, if, like Emily had
said, he wanted her to marry Bryce, he wouldn’t like anything
affirmative coming out of his mouth. Still, Clay was a shitty
liar.

So…the truth it was. “I’m not sure. But how
could I not?”

Jack smiled. “Indeed.”

* * *

The three of them stood outside talking for
half an hour after they’d walked out of the restaurant (long after
they’d worn out their welcome there as well). Emily was relieved
that her dad hadn’t said a word about the way Clay looked—and why
had he chosen to go all rock star, tonight of all nights? Yeah, he
was hotter than ever, but her dad would never appreciate it.

Well, no harm done, she supposed. The two men
actually got along famously and talked about things like politics
and censorship, the state of the economy, and even a little bit
about football preseason. Several times, she’d felt like she needed
to pick her jaw up off the table, because—while she knew Clay was
deeper than most people gave him credit for—he was even more
well-rounded than she’d thought.

Of course, she’d never asked to talk to him
about the economy.

Her dad was impressed. She could tell. Of
course, he was looking at Clay as her employer, not as her
lover.

When they finally said goodbye, Emily hugged
and kissed her father, and then he and Clay engaged in a manly
shake.
Wow.
Clay really
had
made an impression on her
dad, even looking all hardcore. At least he hadn’t worn spiked
wristbands or full crazy makeup like she’d seen lots of bands
do.

When they got to his car, Clay asked, “You
wanna drive her?”

Oh. He must have been able to tell how much
Emily loved this car. But no. She couldn’t. “I haven’t driven a
stick shift since I was a teenager. You don’t want me taking that
out on your baby, do you?”

He laughed. “It’ll come back to you. I trust
you.” She shook her head, but he grabbed her hand and placed the
keys in her palm. “I
want
you to.”

She looked at his hand, then in his eyes.
Yes, he did trust her. He’d said that before. But why? And how?
Granted, she’d never broken his trust, but had she ever given him a
reason to put all of his faith in her?

Still…the lure of driving a pristine black
Corvette made the offer impossible to turn down. She nodded her
head. He opened the driver side door for her and then got in on the
passenger side. When she turned the car on, she could feel the
power—through the floor, the steering wheel. She took a deep breath
and looked over at the gearshift. Then she looked up at Clay—she
couldn’t help it. He was looking at her with patient smiling eyes.
She pressed the stick in and pushed it over to reverse, then looked
behind her while letting up on the clutch.

Clay had been right. It was all coming back
to her. Her feet and hands knew what to do, and before she knew it,
she was on the road.

Oh, the power. It was sexy. And if she
thought she’d been turned on when Clay drove, it was nothing like
when she had control over the car.
Holy shit.
The car moved
like a cat—sleek, smooth, and the engine purred. It wasn’t a long
drive home, but Emily was hotter than hell when they got there.

Clay kept his hands to himself while she
drove, though, and it was probably a good idea. It was safer that
way. She had control of that wildcat while she drove, but if Clay
had touched her, it would have been trouble.

When she pulled into his garage, he was out
of the car in a flash, opening her door for her. She felt
reluctant, not wanting to get out. But she did, handing the keys to
him. “You liked that, didn’t you?”

“Yeah.” It was barely a breath. She pulled
him to her, and he pressed her against the car. It was a heady mix,
that beast of steel supporting her back, Clay’s cock grinding into
her front. God, she felt like she could never get enough of him.
Part of her wanted him then and there, but it was so hot in the
garage. After the air conditioning in the car, she didn’t want to
feel sticky and sweaty. Just hot.

He started to lift her skirt and she said,
“Not here.”

He kissed her again. “Whatever you want,
babe.” She grabbed his hand, and they walked to the door. He
unlocked it and, once they were in the door, he pulled her close by
the waist and kissed her again.

As his lips drifted down her neck, she said,
“Clay?”

“Yeah?”

“Can we do it in my room this time?”

“Sure. You won’t mind a smaller bed?”

“It’s a queen. It’s not small.”

“Smaller than mine.”

“Yeah…” His lips were drifting lower. “But I
don’t want to feel lonely in there anymore.”

He brought his face to hers. “Anything for
you.” She felt his tongue in her mouth again, warm and reassuring.
“Should we use the rope again? You wanna try it on you this
time?”

She took a deep breath. She’d trusted him
once tonight, and he hadn’t let her down. Then he’d trusted her
with his car. Why not continue the trend? She looked in his eyes
and knew that she did have complete faith in this man. No matter
what else happened, she knew he would treat her right. “Okay.”

“Why don’t you grab some wine out of the
kitchen, and I’ll find the rope and take some of this stuff
off.”

“Don’t you dare.”

“What?”

“Leave it on.”

He turned and looked at her, a smirk lighting
up his face. “Why? You like it?”

“Hell, yeah. I want to strip it off you,
piece by piece.” He started strutting toward his room, and she kept
an eye on his ass until she turned toward the kitchen. “By the
way,” she said so her voice would carry, “that was pretty damn
ballsy, wearing that to meet my dad.” She walked over to the wine
rack. A sweet red—that’s what she hoped it was when she grabbed it,
but she’d never been a hardcore wine drinker. She was just guessing
and hoping. She opened the cabinet door to the right and pulled out
two wine glasses. She heard Clay’s boots on the floor before she
turned to see him.

“I figured your dad needed to see me as I am.
Then next time he sees me, my long hair and tattoos won’t be such a
surprise.” He was close to her again and wrapped part of the rope
around her waist and pulled her close.

“By the way, those lip rings?”

“Yeah?” That twinkle in his eye was
intoxicating.

“Damn hot.”

“You think so?”

“God, yes. Please kiss me again.”

The smile was small, but the fire in his eyes
was undeniable. He leaned close to her and kissed her, slowly this
time, and instead of focusing on the heat between her legs this
time, she directed her attention to the feel of those rings against
her lips. Jesus, yes, that was fucking hot. She’d liked the feel of
the flat jewelry, but the rings were sensational. He moved his
mouth differently with that jewelry. His kiss felt more methodical,
more passionate, and she loved how the metal felt against her lips,
her neck, down her cleavage…

She let out a loud breath as he started
unbuttoning her blouse. Her fingers were wound in his hair, but
even hanging on for dear life, she was dangerously close to losing
it. She whispered, “In my room. You promised.”

She felt him smile against her breast, and he
raised his head. “Damn. Lost track of where I was.”

She grinned. He picked the rope up off the
floor and grabbed the wine. She took the glasses and looped her arm
in his, and they walked down the hall to her room.

Once inside, she set the glasses on the
dresser and then walked back to close the door. She took the wine
and rope from him, setting the bottle next to the glasses and
throwing the rope on the bed. Then she took two fistfuls of his
shirt and pulled him close to her. “Hey, careful. This shirt’s a
classic.”

She knew he was kidding, so she said, “Shush,
you,” and planted her mouth on his to get just one more scorching
kiss. Then she grabbed the shirt by the bottom and pulled it up,
kissing his skin, starting around his navel and working her way up.
She let her tongue get involved too. God, he tasted good, and she
could have kissed his skin all night. He pulled his shirt over his
head and threw it to the floor as she unbuttoned the pants. “I
thought that was a classic, and here you are throwing it on the
floor.”

He chuckled, and it sounded a little gravelly
and very sexy—throaty and full of desire. “It’s mine. I can abuse
it if I want.”

“Hmm.” She cocked an eyebrow at him. “Why
don’t you take a seat?”

“On the bed?”

“Yeah.”

“What about the wine?”

She grabbed the bottle and handed to him.
“Open it.” Then she sat on her haunches and started undoing his
left boot. She had to loosen the laces fairly far down so she could
get the boot to move. She heard him remove the wrapper off the
wine.

“Shit.”

“What?”

“Forgot the corkscrew.”

She had the laces on his boot loose. “So
screw it.” He grinned at her stupid pun. “We can have it later.”
She took the bottle from him and set it on the floor, then pulled
his other boot off. She sat up, still on her knees, and took his
face in her hands. He really was a sight, and he took her breath
away. She kissed him then and let herself get buried in desire,
want, and need.

Her fingers drifted down his chest, stopping
at the waistband of his pants. She unbuttoned and unzipped them,
freeing his cock. Once done, she kissed back down his chest and
licked the head of his cock. She sucked part of his length into her
mouth and he said, “Uh-unh. No way.” She looked at him, a question
in her eyes, but she didn’t release him. “The rope, darlin’. If you
suck me dry, I don’t know when that’ll happen.”

She smiled and slid him back out of her
mouth, grinning. “Fine.”

“Oh, I’ll give you
fine
.”

He urged her up with his hands on her face.
She giggled. “I expect no less.”

He smirked again and kissed her once more, a
smoldering hot kiss, deeper, blistering, and more intense than any
they’d shared thus far. Something tonight felt different, and Emily
wasn’t sure what it was, but she didn’t want to question it. It was
too sweet, too incredible, too amazing.

He stood and took her hands so that she stood
too. He tucked himself back in his pants and zipped up. She
scowled. “Don’t worry. I’ll let him back out to play later.” He was
still hard, so Emily wondered if it had hurt to shove himself back
in those tight quarters. But he kissed her again, and she lost her
concentration on anything but the burning desire she felt between
her legs.

His fingers were back on her blouse, undoing
the buttons one by one, and it felt to Emily like he was moving
extra slowly, just to torment her. While he worked the buttons, his
lips worked on her neck, sending shivers throughout her body,
getting her blood pumping like it felt it never had before. She let
out a loud gust of air as he pulled the blouse back off her
shoulders and onto the floor, then brought his fingers to the back
of her skirt to unzip it just as quickly. It too dropped to the
floor without ceremony.

Even with the air conditioning on high
keeping the house cool, the heat from his body radiated to hers,
mingled with hers. She felt so feverish, she thought she was
standing next to the entrance to hell. And maybe she was. She
started to feel like one more night with Clay (or Jet, if that was
the case) would mean she would never be able to turn back.

Would that be so bad?

She couldn’t assess it, not while he was
heating her up to her boiling point. He was bending at the knees
now, leaning over a bit, feeling for the rope, and when he had it
in his left hand, he moved his arm back to around her, but she
could feel the rope against her back.

Her bed wasn’t like his. It had a headboard
with plenty of posts for him to tie the rope around. He wouldn’t
have to crawl around, tying it to the legs of the bed. “So, why
don’t you sit down?” She let out a breath, feeling a little
nervous, and nodded. She swallowed the saliva pooling in her mouth
and looked at Clay with yearning. She might have felt a little
anxious about being tied up, but she was having no doubts about
him. “Cross your wrists on your lap.” She did and he coiled the
rope around them. “I’m going to do yours a little different.” He
wound the rope in between her hands too so there would be no
slipping out. It was a little uncomfortable but not too tight.
“Feel okay?” She nodded again. “I tried to leave it loose enough
that it won’t hurt you, but let me know at any time if you don’t
want to do this, okay?” She smiled then and nodded again, but all
words were gone. “Hey.” He touched her chin with his index finger.
“Do you just want to skip this?”