Hell Yeah!: Man of My Heart (Kindle Worlds Novella) (The Omega Team Book 5) (6 page)

Caleb turned and walked down the short hallway leading to his bedroom. Jasmine stood there watching him, mouth open, pressing her fingertips to her lips. She could still feel the imprint of his mouth there, still inhale his familiar scent.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

But there were no words to wipe away the voracious need he had awakened in her. Nor were there words to tell her how to deal with it. On unsteady legs, she walked into her bedroom and closed the door. She leaned against it for a moment, still trying to get her breath.

Oh my god! Holy Hannah!

Jasmine had kissed a lot of men in her life, and the kisses ranged from disgusting to
yes, I want more
. But none of them had the volcanic impact of Caleb’s kiss. She’d felt it clear to her toes and every other part of her body.

It was more than a kiss.

As soon as the thought hit, she wanted it gone. Aron had made sure to warn her Caleb Branam was a psychological wreck who had sworn off women so she didn’t have to worry about any improper actions on his part. She was safe.

Safe?

Not with a man whose kiss could melt her like his. Or unexpectedly touch her heart. One kiss! But in the two weeks they’d been together in this house, she’d discovered a few things that surprised her. As reserved and withdrawn as he seemed, she actually liked Caleb. She was comfortable sitting with him, even if they never exchanged a word, a comfort she’d seldom found with anyone else. She found herself looking forward to their morning coffee and the meals they shared.

Maybe it was because her life was turned upside down, but she didn’t think so. She knew he blamed himself for the fiasco on his last assignment, but she was convinced whatever went wrong wasn’t his fault. She had the sense he covered all bases on everything he did. Sometimes things just got fucked up.

And he’d downloaded some of her music! How cool was that?

She regretted letting him pull away from her just now. She should have tugged him back and made him kiss her again and again until they couldn’t stop.

She stripped off her clothes and tossed them into the small chair in the corner. Then she slid between the sheets naked, hoping the cool feel of them would kill the heat in her body. No such luck. If anything, it caused crazy thoughts to race around in her brain. What would it be like if they took it past that kiss? What would Caleb look like naked? How would all that hard muscle feel against her body? How would it feel if his cock pressed deep inside her?

The thrumming in her sex intensified, and she slid her hand down over her stomach to her mound. She eased one finger between the puffy lips, imagining it was one of Caleb’s hard ones, and stroked herself. She was so very, very wet, so ready. She slipped a second finger in with the first and captured her clit between them. When she squeezed, high voltage shot through her and the walls of her channel pulsed and throbbed. She pinched her clit between her knuckles and lifted her other hand to cup a breast.

Bending her knees, she spread her legs and pressed her heels into the mattress. As she slid into her slick flesh again and again, grazing the tip of her clit then pinching it, she rubbed her nipple, both of them now hard and pebbled. She wanted Caleb’s mouth on them, sucking the hard tips of her breasts and grazing them with his teeth. She stroked and squeezed then rubbed, eyes closed as she pretended it was Caleb here in bed with her. Caleb doing these things to her. Caleb’s long fingers sliding inside her.

Caleb fucking her!

With his image fixed in her mind, she rode her fingers—Caleb’s fingers—until, at last, the release uncoiled from deep inside her, spiraled up and out, and release consumed her. She hitched her hips, pushing down hard on those long, masculine fingers and gripping them as her orgasm consumed her.

She lay there, her fingers—Caleb’s fingers—still inside her, as the shudders ebbed and slowed. Spent, she relaxed her legs and slipped her fingers from her body. She imagined Caleb smiling at her, desire still stamped on his features as he licked her juices from his fingers.

What would happen in the morning, in the light of day? Would he try to pretend it never happened? Want to talk about it? Maybe it was just a damn kiss, but it sure was potent. And she wasn’t letting him get away with ignoring it.

She rolled to her side, squeezing her thighs together, hard, as light aftershocks rippled through her pussy. With his naked body still front and center in her imagination, she fell asleep, lips curved in a smile.

*****

I’m a goddamned fool.

Caleb would have slammed his door except he didn’t want Jasmine to come running and ask what was wrong. How could he explain his off-the-charts desire for her? A desire that had taken every bit of his self control to sit on for the past two weeks. What caused such a strong pull between them? He hadn’t felt a damn thing for anyone for more than a year. He should have turned around and walked out that first day, but, instead, he’d stayed and punished himself by wanting her with every cell in his body. He wanted to plunge inside her while sucking on one of her nipples. Would the tip be rosy pink or a deeper color?

Asshole he was, he’d laid in this bed too many nights since he’d taken this gig and imagined her naked, her body next to him, warm and pliant and as hungry for him as he was for her. His senses swam with the scents of vanilla and roses, clinging to his clothes from when he’d held her body pressed against him during that impulsive kiss. He’d wanted to strip every piece of clothing from her and lick every inch of her, tasting all her secret places.

Jackass.

Yes, that’s what he was, but saying it didn’t help his feelings for her or erase her from his mind.

He’d known this was a mistake from the minute he’d let Aron talk him into it. He’d been wretchedly happy, or happily wretched, in his cabin in the middle of nowhere. He could spend every day reliving one of the worst events in his life and wallowing in misery. He still couldn’t remember how the hell he’d gotten roped into this. All he knew was, one minute, he was saying no, and, the next, he was putting the details of a meeting in his cell phone. A phone, by the way, he seldom used.

And then—then!—when he first laid eyes on her, he should have run as fast as he could in the opposite direction. Her rich auburn hair, her forest-green eyes, her sweet body had all but bewitched him, and he hadn’t been able to get his ass out of the chair and run away.

Instead, idiot that he was, he’d agreed to take the job. He could spend his days quietly drooling over her, and when the job ended, he would carry the image back to his cabin and feast on it for days. Because there could never be anything more between them than a business arrangement. What would an up-and-coming star on the music scene, fresh and exciting, want from a man with a dark past and a ruined future? So, what was he supposed to do with this intense feeling he had for her, more than he’d ever had for any other woman in his life?

Fuck it all anyway.

He shucked his shirt and jeans, yanked the covers back, and slid into bed, hoping he could fall asleep, and, when he woke, all this would have disappeared from his mind. But the moment he closed his eyes, there she was, front and center in his brain. Hair falling in waves to her shoulders, bewitching green eyes staring at him from beneath lashes so thick they were almost sinful.

And oh god! She was naked. Fate tormented him with an image of Jasmine Grey in all her naked glory. Now he could see those rosy nipples, her luscious curves. And holy shit! The nest of curls covering her mound was the same rich auburn as the hair on her head.

His cock hardened to the point it strained against his boxer briefs. Gritting his teeth, he slid his hand down between the material and his body and wrapped his fingers around his pulsing shaft. When he slid his thumb over the tip, he felt a thick drop of fluid sitting right on the slit and rubbed it over the velvety skin.

The dream Jasmine—the one he wished was real—skimmed her hands over her naked body, cupping her breasts and running her fingers over the slight swell of her tummy to her pubic curls. When he saw two slim fingers disappear between her labia, he thought his heart would stop beating.

He stroked his hand up and down his dick, up and down, trying to match his movements to those of Jasmine. A little ottoman appeared from somewhere; she lifted her foot to brace on it, exposing her pussy. Her eyes were closed, her mouth curved in a smile as she thrust her fingers in and out of her hot channel. Caleb tried to match his rhythm to hers, clenching his teeth hard to keep himself from coming before she did.

It was damn hard, though, especially since he wanted her to walk out of his imagination and into his room so he could touch her, feel her, slide his fingers into her wetness.

Feel her pussy grasp his cock!

He increased the pace of his hand, easing the other one between his thighs to cup his balls. He saw the rapid rise and fall of Jasmine’s breasts and the look of intense pleasure on her face. And then….
Then
she gave one last push, and he watched her entire body clench and shudder.

Now! His cock shrieked. One more stroke. Two. Semen shot over the head of his dick and down his fingers in thick rivulets. He squeezed, milking the last drop, then let his body relax, his breath still raspy, his heartbeat still erratic. He took in a deep breath and held it then let it out. His imaginary Jasmine did the same then gave him a knowing, satisfied smile.

And then disappeared.

Fuck!

Getting himself off in his shower so he didn’t walk around with a painful dick all the time was one thing. But this…tonight…. Holy shit!

He needed to clean himself up, but he sure couldn’t walk across the hall to the bathroom bareass. He used his boxer briefs to clean up the worst of it then threw them in the pocket of his duffel where he collected his dirty clothes. Fishing a clean pair out of the bag, he pulled them on and headed across the hall to the bathroom to finish the job.

Closing the door, he flicked on the light and stared at himself in the mirror. It amazed him he looked the same since he felt very different on the inside. Not just the release he’d given himself. A hand job was a hand job. It was much worse than that. He was fucking falling in love with Jasmine Grey. He, Caleb Branam, a ruined man who’d grown to hate the world, who carried death with him, was falling in love with the very last woman he should.

What the fuck did he do now?

Caleb waited in the great room, hands in his pockets, staring out the window.

He’s mad about the kiss. He blames me. No, he blames himself.

She wanted to bang her head against the wall. Instead, she gathered up all the materials she’d need along with her precious McPherson guitar and her large tote purse then pasted a smile on her face.

“Ready when you are,” she sang out, determined to be cheerful. She wasn’t going to let Caleb’s attitude diminish her big day.

“Fine.” He turned to face her, his expression a careful mask. “Give me the address, and I’ll plug it into my GPS app.”

They accomplished the trip to Austin mostly in silence. Jasmine and Caleb did their coffee routine in a silence she had a hard time figuring out. They had driven for about half an hour when she decided this was never going to work.

“Maybe I should call Aron and tell him we need someone else. Or Carson might know someone.”

The tightening of his grip on the steering wheel was the only indication she had poked the bear.

“You won’t get anyone better than me, and that’s not just ego talking.”

“Maybe, but they might know someone who is a little more pleasant.” She slid a glance at him. “Of course, they wouldn’t have to go far for that.”

“I didn’t think I was being hired for my personality,” he growled.

Jasmine couldn’t help herself. She burst out laughing. “And isn’t that a good thing because you’d never have gotten the job.”

She waited for him to say something, but he just gripped the wheel tighter.

“So, are you going to be the strong, silent type all the way to Austin? All day? All night?” She gave an exaggerated sigh. “I always did like the strong, silent type.”

“Damn it!” The words exploded from his mouth.

“Oh, good,” she teased. “He can still talk.”

“That kiss was a big fucking mistake.”

“Hmmm.” She allowed herself a tiny smile. “Didn’t feel like a mistake to me.”

“Damn it, Jasmine.” He pounded the steering wheel. “We can’t do this.”

“This?” She touched his arm. “This what? Pretend there’s nothing brewing between us?”

“Right. Because there isn’t. And there can’t be, either.”

“Oh? Why not?”

“You know why, and I’m not discussing it. This is business.”

She might have thought so if she hadn’t dropped her gaze to his lap and seen the bulge pressing against the fly of his jeans. He wasn’t as unaffected as he’d like her to believe. Maybe one kiss opened the door to something special.

Okay. She could bide her time. They’d be spending a couple of nights in Austin when it got too late to return to the house. Maybe in a different environment she could dig further beneath that invisible suit of armor he wore. Make him understand he couldn’t carry the burden of blame for the rest of his life.

She leaned back in the seat and tilted her ball cap down over her eyes. She’d have plenty of time to work on this.

*****

When they reached their destination, Caleb made her stay locked in the car while he scoped the outside of the building. Then he walked right next to her when they went inside. He didn’t know what he expected, but certainly not a real studio. He thought that wouldn’t happen until they were ready to do the actual recording. He thought— Well, it didn’t matter what he thought because here they were, in a studio Carson had rented for two weeks for them to learn and rehearse the new tunes. No sound engineer or anything.

“We don’t need one until we get into the studio where we’ll record,” he explained to Caleb. “I’ve tried so-called rehearsal halls, other empty spaces, but they don’t have the acoustics places like this does.”

“This has to cost a pretty penny, though,” Caleb commented.

Carson just grinned. “Got to spend a penny to make a penny. Besides, I listened to her tape of the new stuff, and she’s got chart toppers there. The best she’s done yet.”

“I heard bits and pieces,” he told the other man, “and I’m no expert, but, yeah, I agree with you.”

“You keep her safe, and we’ll be knocking it out of the park. Listen, you’d probably be better off watching from the sound booth. Comfortable chairs and you’re out of the field of action, so to speak. But let me introduce you to the band, first.”

Caleb watched Jasmine greet three of the band members like old friends, hugging each of them as if they hadn’t seen each other in forever. An unexpected spear of jealousy stabbed him as he watched their affectionate greeting, and he had to keep reminding himself it was just business. Just friends.

He had their names memorized—Hondo Carr on rhythm guitar, Tony Baez on lead guitar, and Jack Duval on drums. The one new member of the group was the replacement for Cobra Mattice, a bass player, Hayes Vaughn. Carson had texted him the info as soon as he had the man in place so Caleb could get Omega to run it through their computers. Grey Holden had been more than happy to do it for him.

“You getting back in the game, buddy? We can sure use you.”

“Maybe.” He made his tone as noncommittal as possible.

“Whenever you’re ready. Meanwhile, I’ll get you this info.”

Thank the lord the guy came up clean. Just to be on the safe side, though, as he watched Jasmine greet the other guys like old friends and shake hands with Hayes, he snapped pictures of them. You just never knew when a photo would come in handy.

He walked through the facility, making sure all the exterior doors were locked and no one hid inside. He took no chances. Then he settled in to watch the rehearsal. He had no idea what to expect.

He had to admit, the music scene was so far out of his wheelhouse he might as well be on a different planet, but he knew he’d better learn fast. After an hour, he began to think rehearsals were the most boring things in the world. Learning the material, starting and stopping, trying different versions of things they called “riff,” all of that would drive him nuts if he had to do it for a living.

“Ready to start counting tiles on the ceiling?” Carson joked. “I usually hang out a bit the first day rehearsing new material. That’s when you know whether it’s going to come together or not.”

“You couldn’t prove it by me,” Caleb told him. They hadn’t even played one song all the way through yet.

“It gets better,” the manager promised. He handed Caleb an envelope. “I’ve reserved rooms for all of you. Sometimes this will stop early and sometimes it can go until three in the morning. Driving home then can be a bitch. If anyone wants to stay over, they have a place. Hondo has the stuff for the guys. This is for you and Jas.”

“Okay, great. Thanks.”

“I plan on taking off shortly. You’ve got my cell number if you need me.”

“I’ll be fine.”

He focused on Jasmine. She’d taken her guitar out of its case and was playing part of one tune for the band. She happened to be facing him, and he saw her face come alive from the music, her body swaying to the rhythm. Something inside him uncoiled, like a spring wound too tight exploding in the freedom of release.

What the fuck was that all about? Even before what he referred to in his mind as the disaster, he’d never had more than a sexual pull toward any woman. But, watching Jasmine, listening to her, seeing the joy in her face, he wanted to sweep her into his arms, hold her tight, and make all the bad memories go away. He knew he saw something special here.

She was born to this.

“She sure was,” Carson agreed.

Caleb startled, not realizing he’d spoken his thoughts aloud.

“Sorry, I, uh….”

“No problem. Glad to see you appreciate what we’ve got here. Okay, I’m moving along. Call me if you need anything.”

Hours later, even with his butt sore from sitting and his stomach protesting the excess consumption of coffee, he was stunned to realize how much time had passed. How his attention had been captured by the electric quality of the music. Of Jasmine’s songs. Before he left, Carson had flipped the switches so he could hear everything in the booth. Even with all the stops and starts, with the arguments over which riff or bridge—whatever the hell they were—went where, he was fascinated in a way he’d never thought possible. The first time they’d played a tune all the way through, excitement coursed through him, and he realized he watched magic being made.

At one point, they took a break and ordered in pizza. Caleb answered the rap on the door and paid the guy. He figured it was the least he could do. The band thanked him, but Jasmine gave him a weird look, which he mentally shrugged off.

It was obvious to him the entire band, even the new guy, were into Jasmine and her music. When they quit for the night, he was startled to realize they’d been there for ten hours. He hauled his ass out of the booth and waited while Jasmine packed up her guitar and tote.

“I can’t believe you haven’t died of boredom,” she teased.

“As a matter of fact, I’m enjoying it. Can I carry anything for you?”

“Oh, no, thanks. I always carry my guitar myself. Hondo’s got everything else. Come on. Carson gave you the hotel stuff, right?”

“Got it in my pocket.”

“Let’s boogie, then.”

Carson had chosen a hotel about fifteen minutes from the studio. It was a little off the beaten path and smaller than most of the others, but Jasmine explained why.

“We try to keep a low profile when we’re rehearsing and then recording. We’re less likely to run into people we know in this place.”

“Makes sense.”

He opened the door and stood aside to let Jasmine enter first. Carson had mentioned he’d gotten them a suite. The best way, he told Caleb, to make sure he could be protecting her at all times. Like living in a little apartment. Whatever. It was all good with him. He had trouble keeping the words Jasmine and hotel room from colliding in his brain.

“You care which room you take?” Jasmine asked.

“Nope. Have at it.”

She carried her guitar and tote into the room she chose. Caleb followed her to the doorway. He was about to ask her if she needed anything when she turned and he found himself practically nose to nose with her. He stared at her, trying to read the expression in her eyes, holding his breath, afraid to move as he waited to see what she would do. His dick sure sent him strong messages.

Jasmine took one tiny step toward him, and he was done. Lost. Captivated. He cradled her face in his hands, her skin so soft and warm. Gold flecks sparkled in her dark-green eyes, and those thick lashes fluttered against her cheeks as she lowered her lids then raised them again. His heart beat so fast he was afraid it would jump out of his chest. What the hell was he doing? Then Jasmine swept the tip of her tongue across her bottom lip and any thought he had of backing off disappeared.

He touched his mouth to hers, gently at first, the contact just as sharp and electric as it had been the night before. Doing his best to go slowly, he exerted enough pressure so she parted her lips. When she did, he swept his tongue into her mouth. The contact nearly incinerated him. His blood heated and his breath quickened at the sweet, sweet taste of her. He left no inch of her mouth untouched, sampling and touching until he was drunk on her taste.

Jasmine wrapped her slim fingers around his wrists, and, for one awful moment, he was afraid she was going to shove his hands away. But then
her
tongue dueled with his and slid into
his
mouth and holy shit! Rockets went off. For a moment, he felt sixteen again with his first hot girlfriend. But then he changed his mind because at sixteen he had no idea what the fuck he was doing.

He slid his fingers along her cheeks and into the fine silk of her hair, releasing it from the ponytail holder and running his fingers through it. So smooth, so fine, he wanted to bury his face in it. Only he had other things he wanted to do. When he slipped his hands down her arms and up along her rib cage, he stopped and looked hard into her eyes.

“If you want to call a halt to this, now is the time. Because one more minute and I don’t think I’ll be able to.”

“Don’t stop,” she whispered. “I’ve wanted this since the day we met.”

She brushed his hands away, and, for a second, he thought he hadn’t heard her right, that, in fact, she was done here. Then she grabbed the hem of her T-shirt and yanked it over her head. Caleb looked at the lace-and-satin bra cradling two perfect, plump breasts, and his eyes nearly bugged out of his head. What the hell was the matter with him? He’d seen enough women in lingerie in his life. Except that was like calling a Jaguar just a car.

“Touch me,” she whispered.

He lifted his hands and cupped her breasts, rubbing his thumbs over her nipples, which turned into stiff peaks beneath his touch. A soft moan floated from her mouth as she leaned into him and his cock pressed hard against his fly. He lowered his head and ran his tongue across the upper swell of each breast, tasting the faint flavor of the peach-scented soap she used. He drew one pebbled tip into his mouth and reached his hands behind her to release the clasp. When he lifted his head, he brushed the straps down her arms and tossed the bra to one side. Then he treated himself to a long taste of each diamond-hard point.