Impulsive (21 page)

In the middle of a sound check, his eyes flicked to meet hers and he winked. Her stomach took a dip. She returned the smile. Luke looked up from the bar, and by his expression, he’d caught the exchange. A wave of guilt washed over her. She’d have to watch herself, be more careful. This thing—this secret attraction—to Elijah needed to remain a secret. She wouldn’t jeopardize Luke over a crush.
 

Within an hour, the place teemed with bobbing, sweating bodies, and Tasha had little time to worry about anything but filling orders. Elijah put on a hell of a show. The crowd screamed and danced, fists waved in the air, and the cash rolled in. A reporter from the newspaper showed up, and paparazzi lined the street. By the time the show ended, Tasha’s feet ached and her pockets bulged with tips.

Once the doors closed, they gathered around the bar. Everyone talked at once, still high on adrenalin. A round of high-fives and back-slapping ensued. Luke pulled Elijah into a man-hug. It was the first time Tasha had ever seen them touch for anything more than a handshake. Elijah stared at her from over Luke’s shoulders, his eyes dark and indefinable, searching hers. He raised an arm, beckoning her into their circle, and she went willingly. They surrounded her with their strong arms, their scents of perspiration and spicy cologne mingling together like an aphrodisiac. An electric tingle jolted through her when Elijah’s hand slid down her back and Luke pressed a kiss into her temple.
 

“You did a good think,” she told Elijah and dropped a kiss on his cheek. His eyes glowed down at her with heat and longing. By the time he turned around, it had disappeared, and she wondered if she’d imagined it.
 

“I made that stage my bitch,” he admitted to the group with a playful smirk. “It felt great. Now I remember why I love this so much. I’ll put the word out to my friends and let them know this is the place to be, that they can stop in any time. You’ll have more attention than you want in no time.”
 

“You’ve done me a solid,” Jack said. The lines of concern faded from his expression, replaced by his customary mischievous sparkle. “I owe you, man.”

“You don’t owe me shit,” Elijah countered, his voice thick. He cleared his throat and raised his arms. “Now, why aren’t we celebrating?”

Three hours later, they stumbled into Elijah’s car. In true rock star fashion, he’d procured a limo for the night. It sat gleaming on the street, the sleek and pristine exterior at contrast with the rundown and abandoned buildings. A handful of paparazzi braved the alley when they exited the building, their flashbulbs blinding Tasha’s already blurred vision.

Jack had brought down his beloved top shelf Scotch for the event. Tasha hated Scotch and had drunk rum instead, but the boys had consumed the whole bottle and half of another one. Somewhere in the ensuing melee, Elijah had lost his shirt and shoes. Luke wore a string of paperclips around his neck and crawled into the limo on his hands and knees.
 

“We’re going to party until dawn,” Elijah said for the tenth time.
 

“It is dawn, you fucker,” Luke slurred, poking Elijah with his foot. He pointed out the window. Streaks of pink and gold silhouetted the city skyline.
 

Tasha had seen Luke drink plenty of times, but she’d never seen him intoxicated. He was usually the one to babysit her after a night of revelry, not the other way around. His hair tumbled over his forehead in messy waves, scruff peppering his cheeks and square jaw. He turned to her, his gaze unfocused, and patted the seat beside him. “Come here and kiss me.”

The limo turned a corner and sent all of them scrambling. Luke bobbled and swayed. Tasha slid down the bench seat and flailed for something to secure her. Elijah rolled off the seat and sprawled on the floor at her feet.

“I didn’t see that coming,” he remarked, scrubbing a hand over his face in surprise. He didn’t get up but stayed there, blinking at her with big blue eyes, one hand wrapped around her ankle as if to anchor him. “I love you, Tattoo Girl,” he said, and planted a wet kiss on her calf.
 

A tiny spark exploded beneath her skin.

“Me, too,” Luke replied. He crawled toward her on hands and knees like an unsteady cat. Once he reached her, the tip of his nose nuzzled along her neck. “You always smell so good.”

“Like the garden of Eden,” Elijah murmured, his lips hot against her bare leg.
 

The interior of the car spun around Tasha. She gripped the seat to steady herself. Elijah’s hold on her ankle tightened, his touch warm and reassuring. His lips continued up to her thigh. Luke’s arm snaked around her waist while he licked and nipped her neck, his breath tickling her ear, the roughness of his stubble raking over her jaw. She tangled her fingers in Elijah’s hair and turned her lips to Luke, needing his kiss.
 

“Mmmm…you taste like candy,” Luke slurred when they parted. He turned to his friend. Elijah gazed up at them from between her legs, eyes intense and hot. “Now you kiss her.”

It seemed natural and easy, the edges of right and wrong blurred by alcohol and lust. Every touch, every kiss sent excited tingles into her center. She’d been with another girl and guy before, but never two men at the same time. Being the focus of their lips and hands thrilled her, inflated her sense of worth. These two beautiful men wanted her. She’d never felt so desirable, so worshiped, so adored.
 

 
***

The raucous melody of AC/DC’s
Highway to Hell
woke Tasha from a dreamless sleep, sweating and disoriented. The music echoed in her head, driving spikes of pain into her temples. She sighed, unable to pry her eyes open or move. A heavy weight pinned her to the bed. Panicked, she jerked a knee into something hard. It groaned and shifted, allowing her to free an arm.

When she opened her eyes, she found Luke’s face inches from hers, his eyes shut. One hairy leg wedged between her thighs. His arm draped over her waist, hand cupping her breast. After a quick inventory of body parts, she realized there were two sets of hands gripping her. Looking down, she spied Elijah’s head pillowed on her stomach, long arms circling her hips. His hot breath tickled her bare belly.
 

They were in various stages of undress, but no one was naked. She wore her bra and panties. Luke still wore the paper clip necklace, socks, and boxers. Elijah was completely naked except for a pair of her shorts. They were the ones she wore for running, hot pink and splattered with black kisses.

The music started again, and the pounding in her head resumed.

“What. The. Fuck.” Luke shifted, his voice rough and anguished.

 
Elijah’s hand groped along the bed, following the sound of the music to the nightstand. He pulled the phone to his face, squinted at the display, hit the mute button, and threw the phone onto the floor. With a sigh, he nuzzled his nose into her belly and closed his eyes.

“I think I’m dying,” Luke said into her neck. After a beat, he added, “No, I’m pretty sure I’m dying.”

“You’re both going to die if you don’t get off me,” Tasha said, another wave of uncomfortable heat flashing over her. The two men together radiated warmth like a fully stoked woodstove. Both men groaned and rolled onto their backs. She sighed in relief at the coolness.

“Somebody buy me a vowel,” Elijah muttered and threw an arm over his eyes.

“Need coffee, Aspirin,” Tasha said. Moving slowly to keep her stomach under control, she crawled over the two bodies and bounced off the walls into the kitchen, blinking against the bright daylight streaming through the windows. She needed caffeine in her veins before she tried to assimilate the impact of whatever had happened.
 

A huge chunk of time seemed to be missing from her memory. The last thing she remembered was climbing into the limo, laughing until her ribs hurt, feeling happier than she had in a long time. The rest of the night returned in blurry flashes. Hands sliding along her legs. Kisses pressed into bare skin. Lots and lots of kisses. Wet. Open-mouthed. Hungry. The recollection sent heat racing into her cheeks, and a bolt of white-hot lust jolted between her legs.

Luke entered the kitchen, looking disoriented and cranky. He stopped in the middle of the room, like he was lost, and frowned. “What time is it?”

“Three o’clock,” she replied before handing him a cup and two caplets of pain reliever.

“In the afternoon?” He stared at her like she spoke a foreign language then shrugged and slid onto a stool at the island.
 

Unshaven and rumpled, he bore an air of delicious rebellion, one she’d never seen on him before. Her gaze roved over his hard chest and the trail of hair leading into his boxers. When she found his face, she realized he was staring at her with identical interest, one of his eyebrows lifting. A quick glance down reminded her she was wearing only a bra and a pair of skimpy red lace panties. She eased onto a stool across from Luke and bit her lower lip.
 

“Am I crazy, or did we give a ride to a homeless dude with a pet pig last night?” Elijah sauntered into the kitchen, still wearing her ridiculous pink running shorts. They were too short and too tight, outlining every square inch of his impressive package. He rubbed his hand across his belly and contemplated the coffeemaker.
 

Tasha blinked and dropped her eyes to her coffee cup.
 

He poured some coffee and joined them. “What?” he asked, returning her stare.
 

Luke lowered his face, laughter shaking his shoulders.

“Um, you might want to take a look in the mirror,” she said.

He swiveled on his stool and bent to catch his reflection in the toaster. “Oh, shit,” he said and scrubbed a hand through the freshly dyed platinum blond locks of his hair. “That’s interesting.”

“Are you going to get in trouble?” she asked, biting back a frown. He answered with an apathetic shrug.

They sat at the kitchen island in silence for a few minutes, taking in the events of the night. Tasha peered at them over the rim of her cup. They were also watching her from the safety of their cups. Luke’s eyes met hers. One of his eyebrows flicked up. Elijah’s eyes were wide and deceptively innocent. Under her gaze, one corner of his mouth curled upward, devilish and unapologetic. She smiled back at him then blinked her focus to Luke, uncertain of his thoughts. They searched each other’s faces, each assessing the other.
 

Slowly, very slowly, he smiled back.

Chapter 31

Later in the evening, Elijah left for the airport to spend a few days in Los Angeles with his band, but he promised to return on the following Tuesday for Luke’s birthday. Tasha and Luke took a shower together, ordered takeout, then went back to bed. Luke stretched out on his side to watch her. His fingers stroked along the length of her arm.

“Last night…” she began then stopped, wondering how to ask the question perched on her lips. “Did we…?”

The bed shook with Luke’s chuckle. “No. We all passed out before it got too far. Besides, both of us were too drunk to get it up, I think.”

She blew out a sigh of relief but felt a small kernel of disappointment. The idea of the two sexy men in her bed piqued her imagination. “I remember parts of it but not everything. I wasn’t sure.”

He lifted to an elbow and propped his head on his hand. “I remember everything.” The color of his eyes darkened and his voice lowered. “I liked watching you with him.”

The blood in her veins turned hot like lava. His big hand moved to her bare belly and smoothed over her skin, sliding up to cup one of her breasts. She caught her lower lip between her teeth and watched his fingers tweak one of her nipples. Desire hummed through her.

“Aren’t you the dirty boy,” she whispered on a sigh.
 

His gaze followed his hands as they swept over her body, caressing every inch of her. The scent of shower gel and shampoo drifted to her nostrils. She lifted his hand and pressed a kiss to the palm, tasting his skin, enjoying the brush of his rough callouses against her lips.

“If you wanted to be with him, I’d be okay with it,” he said, meeting her gaze and holding it. His touch smoothed along the inside of her thigh. “As long as you keep this for me.” One of his fingers dipped inside her, and she shuddered. He added a second finger and curled them, sending spikes of pleasure down her legs and into her toes. “Can you do that, Tasha?”

“Yes,” she whispered.

“Say it for me.” His lips and teeth nipped and kissed along her neck.

“My pussy is only for you,” she replied, knowing the implications of the statement and happy to comply.

The mattress sagged when he shifted his weight onto her. Her knees fell open, inviting him between them. She ran her hands over the smooth curve of his back, warm and damp from their shower. The ends of his hair tickled her chest as he bent to suck a nipple into his mouth.

“Can I have you bare?” he asked. The steel and velvet of his erection throbbed against her belly. When he swirled his hips, her core clenched, needing him inside her, drawing him closer. “I haven’t been with anyone but you, and I’ve been tested.”

“Me too,” she said. “And I’ve got an implant.”
 

The head of his cock nudged her entry while his mouth took hers. This wasn’t like their other kisses. This one dove deeper until she thought of nothing but the rise and fall of his chest against hers and the fullness inside her. He rocked against her, fucking her with slow thoroughness.

“Take my cock, Tasha. I’m going to fuck you like you need it. Make you come so hard.”
 

The entire time, he stared into her eyes. She stared back, unwilling to look away for even a second. Every thrust claimed her and marked her as his. He filled her with his scent and his cock, made her ask for things she didn’t even know she wanted.

“You’re so wet. Is that for me, baby?” he whispered in her ear. “Do you want me? That’s right. Claw my back. Hold on to me. Squeeze me with those long fucking legs of yours.”