One Night with Sole Regret 07 Tease Me (9 page)

His thumb rubbed circles over her aching labia, causing her to swell and grow wet with anticipation. She opened her legs beneath the table, surprised by her own brazenness and even more surprised when her action was rewarded with the tip of Adam’s finger sliding down her seam and dipping into her slick opening.

Her mouth fell open and a small gasp escaped her. She snapped her jaw shut and glanced around, seeing if anyone had noticed her reaction and guessed its cause. She stiffened when she noticed Jacob’s knowing smirk. Did he suspect she was getting fingered right there at the dinner table?

“Okay, guys,” the band’s impossibly sexy tour manager, Sally, said from the doorway. “It’s time for your meet and greet.”

“We’ll finish this later,” Adam promised, sliding his finger an inch deeper before withdrawing it. He dropped a kiss on her cheek and left her sitting there all flushed and aroused.

Damn, how she wanted him.

Madison squeezed her thighs together and tried to collect her thoughts. One thing was clear: Adam was attempting to kill her via lack of sexual fulfillment. She’d never have believed it was possible to actually die from horniness, but the man was determined to prove her wrong. As she glanced around the room, trying to think about anything besides the incessant throb between her thighs, she spotted Lindsey whispering something into Jordan’s ear. He nodded and tripped over his feet as he hurried after the band. Lindsey followed him out of the room a scant moment later.

Well, that did the trick. Madison’s excitement fizzled out like a soggy firecracker. What was Lindsey up to? She better keep her meat hooks out of Adam or heads were going to roll. Or maybe Madison would do something slightly less violent to her.

Madison glanced up when Melanie sat beside her in the seat Adam had recently vacated.

“So what’s the story with Lindsey?” she asked, without warning.

Gabe hadn’t told her anything yet? Madison didn’t want to spread rumors and divulge secrets, so she shrugged. “I don’t know. Apparently she got knocked up by Owen, and she didn’t have anywhere else to go. They’re not a couple or anything.”

Melanie stared at her. Could she tell that Madison was withholding information? She was such a bad liar. Her belly was quivering as she waited for Melanie’s next words.

“So Owen is the father?” Melanie asked. “Gabe sounded unsure.”

“As far as I know,” Madison said. “She hangs all over him, so I just assumed… Why? Did you hear differently?”

If Melanie already knew the shocking truth about Lindsey’s pregnancy, Madison was more than ready to talk shit about her, but if Melanie didn’t know anything, then Madison didn’t want to get Gabe into trouble. She really liked Gabe. There had to be a reason he hadn’t explained things to Melanie yet.

Melanie shook her head. Well, damn. Madison had no one to gossip with then. She wondered how Melanie would react when she found out that Gabe might be the father of Lindsey’s baby. Or that it might be Adam’s . . . 

Madison couldn’t imagine Adam trying to fit raising a baby into his already full life. Something would have to give. And she couldn’t deny she worried that the thing that would have to take a backseat was herself.

“So where are you from?” Melanie asked.

Madison was glad that Melanie had switched the direction of their conversation to small talk. She’d wanted her weekend with Adam to help her forget about her problems, not add more of them. And as far as problems went, Lindsey’s condition was a whopper. With cheese.

And extra bacon.

Chapter Six

Adam closed his eyes briefly as the full brightness of the stage lights hit him in the face. The crowd roared as his fingers raced along steel guitar strings. There were only two places he knew he belonged—on stage with his four faithful friends and in Madison’s arms.

When the intricate guitar work of the intro segued into the more repetitive riff of the first verse¸ Adam glanced to where Madison stood in the wings. Even though she was watching the performance, he couldn’t help but notice her preoccupation. He knew she had a lot on her mind, but he hoped she’d let it go for a while and enjoy herself. He had every intention of having a blast tonight—both during the concert and afterward. If he couldn’t capture her attention with his guitar playing, he was sure he could find a way to keep her distracted from real life when they were alone in his hotel room. But until then, he’d do his damnedest to put a smile on her face.

When the first song ended and while Jacob waited for the crowd to quiet enough so he could start his typical banal greetings, Adam dashed offstage, took Madison’s hand, twirled her around until she giggled, patted her on the butt, and then raced back to stand next to Jacob.

“It’s a little known fact that Adam started as a blues guitarist,” Jacob said into his mic, his eyes concealed by his trademark shades.

Actually, Adam’s beginnings in blues had
once
been a little-known fact. But seeing as Jacob shared the same fact every time they toured the South, it was now a rather well-known fact. Especially in New Orleans.

“It’s true,” Adam said, playing a string of notes that sounded more metal than blues. The entire reason he’d given up and switched to metal was because every genre he attempted sounded metal under his fingers. “I was never very good at it, though.”

“He even tried country for a while,” Owen said.

“Well, I am from Texas,” Adam reminded him, playing a country riff that also sounded very metal. He laughed at his lack of skill. “Apparently from the metal part of Texas.”

The crowd really got behind this idea, cheering for their preferred genre of music.

“Cuff’s better at country than I am,” Adam teased Kellen, who promptly played the intro to a well-known banjo tune.

Adam mimicked the notes and, as expected, the backwoods banjo music sounded like incredibly distorted, loud and heavy guitar when he played it. “I’m sorry,” Adam said with a grin. “No matter how hard I try, I can’t seem to play anything but metal.”

The audience cheered, not minding his lack of range.

“Then you’ve come to the right stage,” Jacob said, and he lifted his hand to signal Gabe to start the opening drum progression of the next song.

Adam entered the song with a rapid string of notes, carrying the final in the series with a loud wail. Jacob caught on to Adam’s enthusiasm, hamming it up for the crowd with even more gusto than usual. Kellen seemed more concerned with playing every note perfectly—probably because he was trying to impress his composer guest—but it was Owen who was behaving completely out of character. Usually the life of the party, he kept to the back of the stage and played his bass lines with an air of glumness. It wasn’t as if bass riffs were ever particularly cheerful, but if Owen kept playing them like that, they’d all be suicidal by the end of the evening.

Adam snuck up behind him and did his best impression of twerking to rub the strings of his guitar against Owen’s wireless receiver and produce a hideous cacophony. From the front, Adam was sure it looked like he was dry humping his bassist’s ass, but it was worth the hilarity that ensued as Owen stumbled forward several steps in absolute shock and then burst out laughing when he saw who was assaulting him.

“Are you high?” he asked, and then his face fell when he seemed to think he’d discovered the truth.

“On life!” Adam shouted and climbed up on the platform supporting Gabe’s drum kit so he could clang a symbol with his guitar stock.

“I don’t know what’s in the water down here,” Jacob said at the end of the song, “but it apparently makes Adam feel real good.”

Adam pointed at Madison, who was gaping at him from her position at the side of the stage, and then hopped off the drum platform to join Jacob.

“I do feel good,” Adam said. “How do you all feel tonight?” he asked the audience.

They cheered enthusiastically.

“Well, I for one,” Jacob said, “am feeling a little twisted.”

Which was Adam’s cue to start the intro to one of their most popular songs. He briefly wondered if he’d ever write anything as good as “Twisted” in the future or if he’d peaked early and his career was all downhill from here. He shoved the thought aside as he gave his all to the fret board. He’d worry about the future later. Or never. Never sounded like a better plan.

When the stadium lights went up after the encore, Adam tossed his guitar to a waiting roadie and headed directly for Madison. After stealing a lingering kiss, he scooped her off her feet and tossed her over his shoulder, one hand under her skirt and resting securely on her bare thigh. He spun on his heel and trotted down the steps.

“You’re crazy!” she accused with a laugh as he carried her down a corridor toward the exit.

“Oh no, gust of wind,” he said, flipping her skirt up. Not high enough for anyone to see she wasn’t wearing panties, but still she slapped a hand over her butt, laughing and squirming on his shoulder.

“Stop it! Have you lost your mind?” she asked.

Quite possibly. He had an entire weekend free to enjoy Madison’s company, and he wasn’t going to allow stupid crap like responsibility and worry and reality put a damper on his enthusiasm.

As the rest of the band were heading out of town for the weekend, Adam was doubly glad he’d rented the motorcycle for personal use. That way he didn’t have to wait for the rest of the guys to get their shit together. He was more than eager to get Madison back to the hotel and spend time together. He had plenty of teasing in store, but he also just liked to be around her. She made him happy to be alive. He couldn’t say that about any other person on the planet.

He dropped her off at the bottom of the tour bus steps. “Put your leather back on,” he murmured into her ear. Just thinking about her in those tight leather pants had him all hot and bothered and the effect had little to do with the sultry night air.

“I think—”

“Unless you’d rather wait half an hour for a cab.” He didn’t want her to argue. And he wasn’t going to allow her to ride on a motorcycle in a skirt. He’d seen what the road could do to bare flesh, and he refused to risk damaging her perfect skin—no matter how unlikely they were to meet the pavement in the few miles between the venue and their hotel.

“I wasn’t refusing,” she said. “I was going to say I think I’ll need your help.”

She took his hand and led him up the bus steps.

“You seemed to be having fun on stage tonight,” she said as she walked backward toward the empty bedroom, her eyes never leaving his.

“I was,” he said. “You put me in a good mood.”

“I do?”

He nodded. “I usually try to hide the way you make me feel from the guys, but—” He shrugged. “I’m to the point where I don’t care what they think about us.” After all, the next time they saw her, he planned to have put a huge fucking diamond on her finger, and then they’d know for sure that he was pretty serious about Madison.

“Are you ready to put
me
in a good mood?” she asked, the suggestiveness in her tone making his cock twitch with interest.

“You aren’t already?”

“I’m feeling pretty good, but I could be feeling a whole lot better.”

He kicked the bedroom door closed behind him, bathing them in darkness. Her hand pushing down on his shoulder was the only cue he needed. He dropped to his knees before her and pushed her skirt up. He found her swollen mound by feel, working her heated flesh with his mouth.

“Oh, Adam,” she moaned. “I need you so bad.”

He grinned to himself, pressing his tongue into her cleft. If she thought she needed him now, he couldn’t even guess how much she’d need him by the next night. He unfastened her skirt as she clung to his hair with both hands and ground her pussy into his face.

If he could kick his drug habit with the might of his willpower, teasing this woman incessantly while not giving in to his own needs should be as easy as strumming an A chord.

Yeah, right.

He tipped her back onto the bed and pulled her boots off. He had planned to dress her in her leather pants immediately, but he had to have a little taste of her first. She was already so worked up that he’d have to take great care to not let her come. Madison opened her legs wide as he settled his knees on the floor at the end of the bed. When he gripped her ass in both hands and pulled her pussy to his mouth, she cried out and her back arched off the mattress.

He twirled his tongue in her opening, collecting the musky taste of her sex in his mouth. His cock pulsed with excitement at the promise of being enveloped in her slick heat.

He pulled away and took a deep breath. Fuck, how was he supposed to keep her teetering on the edge if he wanted to fly beyond it with so little prompting? Her heel dug into his back and pulled him into her. He groaned, his fingers digging into her ass cheeks as he found her clit with his mouth and flicked it with his tongue until she was writhing with pleasure.

He pulled away again, panting hard through his nose as he tried to regain his will to refrain from what he really wanted to do—fuck her as hard as she liked it.

“Adam,” she moaned as she sat up to grab the back of his head. When he resisted her pull, she released her grip on him and reached between her thighs, rubbing her clit with rapid strokes that would quickly give her the release she craved. He captured her wrists and trapped her hands on either side of her hips.

“If you come tonight, I’m not taking you to the sex club tomorrow,” he said.

“What?” Her voice was breathy with excitement, and the sound of it took hold of his balls and tugged.

He lowered his head and lapped at her drenched pussy. “No coming,” he said, turning his attention back to her clit.

“Oh God,” she moaned, her hips rocking in time with the motion of his tongue. “I have to.”

“Not if you want to see what I have in store for you tomorrow.”

“That doesn’t make sense,” she complained.

He chuckled. “It does to me.” He knew what a challenge it could be to push her out of her comfort zone. She would have to be at her tipping point before they arrived at the club the next night, or she’d never agree to what he proposed.

“Put your pants on,” he said, rising to his feet and backing toward the door, because he knew if he stayed to help her, his so-called willpower would last about twenty seconds and then his own pants would be on the floor.

“And if I refuse?” she asked, exasperation strong in her voice.

“I’ll go to the hotel without you and text you pictures of me jacking off.”

He turned on the ceiling light, and his breath caught at the sight of her looking all disheveled and aroused in her cutsie plaid shirt and nothing else.

“You wouldn’t!”

“Are you sure about that?” ’Cause he was about to start jacking off any moment. Lord, the things he put himself through to take this woman on creative sexual adventures and offer her new heights of excitement.

While staring at him, she slid one hand down her belly and used two fingers to part her folds. “You shouldn’t turn me on if you don’t plan to get me off.”

“I do plan to get you off,” he assured her and leaned over to gently tug her hand from her pussy. He drew it over her head and pinned it to the mattress before kissing her deep and long. His hips seemed to have a mind of their own as they gyrated, rubbing the aching length of his erection against her. Even through his clothes, he could feel her heat beckoning him, promising him nirvana.

He tugged his mouth from hers slowly and stepped away before he lost complete control.

“Get dressed,” he said, his voice gruff.

She nibbled on the tip of a finger, watching him closely. He was as turned on as she was, and she damned well knew it. “I think I need a spanking first,” she said. “I’m having all sorts of naughty thoughts.”

“You aren’t the only one.”

He grabbed her leather pants off the dresser and tossed them at her. Her pink lace panties tumbled through the air as well. She must have hidden them so no one would see them when she’d so boldly left them behind earlier.

“Put those on,” he demanded gruffly.

Instead of obeying, she slid a finger into her cleft. “But I want to play some more first. Don’t you want to play with me?”

Fuck
yes
, he wanted to play with her, but he said, “Not until tomorrow.”

She sighed—loud and long—and reached for her panties. “You are going to give me a complex.”

He watched her slip her shapely legs into her panties and pull them up, lifting her butt off the bed to draw them over her hips. She put those goddamned leather pants on next. He’d have thought her covering some skin would cool his ardor, but if anything, those sexy-as-fuck leather pants made his cock even harder. He wasn’t sure how that was physically possible, but God, he wanted her. She caught him watching and yanked her top open, the snaps popping free all at once to expose her lacy pink bra. She tossed the shirt aside and he expected her to put on the black T-shirt she’d purchased, but instead she reached behind her back and unfastened the clasp of her bra, tossing it aside to bare her breasts.