“How can you not want it?” My mother wasn’t just shocked—she was hurt. “I’m sorry, but you need to get your head out of the clouds. You think something better than this is going to come along?”
“Probably not,” I said.
But maybe.
That was the only answer I gave, and my mom didn’t like my attitude . . . or lack thereof. She pressed her lips into a thin line. “Fine. We can talk about the future some other time, but you didn’t give us much warning to fill your spot for Tuesday. All the other guys give us more of a heads-up.”
That was bullshit. Guys asked for vacations the next day or called off sick all the time. Last week when we’d been working on an addition and the HVAC wasn’t installed yet, it’d climbed above a hundred degrees inside the house. It wasn’t surprising that two of the guys on the crew “came down with something” and were miraculously better once the air conditioner was turned on.
“It’s last minute, but I can’t reschedule.” I gave her a pointed look. “It’s an opportunity, and when I said I’d work for Bill, we all agreed that wouldn’t get in the way if something better for me came along.”
“Better,” she repeated, annoyed. “What is it?”
Since she’d literally just told me to get my head out of the clouds, I wasn’t about to say. I played up a shrug. “It could be good, or it could be nothing. I promise I’ll tell you about it afterward, though.”
I walked past her, wanting the conversation over. I didn’t like lying to my mom, and a better use of my time right now would be practicing.
My pads of my fingers were sore, and my wrists ached. I’d spent the last three hours playing the guitar and filming myself with my phone to watch my performance. It made me cringe the first few times with how stupid I looked. Without a crowd, the whole thing felt forced, but Erika had said to keep doing it until I was comfortable. An audience of one was still an audience.
It was after nine when my phone buzzed with a text message.
Erika: Got a second to talk?
Me: Yup.
I tried to play it cool, but I was dying to hear from her. After I’d finished recording with Ardy, we’d gone right into talking about the audition and then I’d had to book it to make my class on time at the gym. I hadn’t gotten a chance alone with her.
My phone rang and I didn’t bother saying hi. I needed to know right off the bat. “Is this call business,” I asked, “or pleasure?”
There was a pause like my question had thrown her.
“It’s pleasure.” Her voice was surprisingly sure. “Come over, and make sure to bring that magical dick with you.”
I grinned bigger than I ever had in my life. “Yes, ma’am.”
Erika
Waiting to text Troy nearly killed me. I must have picked up my phone a dozen times throughout the day with the intent to tell him how badly I wanted him, only to pocket my phone instead.
I told myself there was work to do first, and once that was taken care of, then we could play. But I couldn’t get a handle on the desire sizzling through my bloodstream. When he’d sung at Blanche’s, it’d been dark and late, and there had been my shock at seeing him perform for the first time.
Today in the studio, there’d been no shadows to hide away my desire. I had to linger in the doorway behind Ardy so he wouldn’t see my face or the way I’d clenched a hand on the doorframe to keep control of myself. Troy’s voice, his beautiful hands on the guitar, and his powerful body were sin in the flesh.
I was coming unglued.
So, I gave up on the idea of work, then play. I needed fucking relief, to get the lust out of my system, so we could get back to focusing on other things.
I’d been anxious after we’d ended the call and I waited for him to show up on my doorstep, but the second he did and flashed his bright smile, my nerves evaporated.
“Hi,” I said, pulling the door open wider to let him in.
He stepped inside, bringing us nearly chest to chest. There was electricity in his eyes, and sex in his voice. “Hey.”
Good lord, my knees went weak with a single word. No wonder I’d gone boneless when he’d sang this morning. He pushed the door closed behind him and as he peered down at me, I caught a faint woodsy smell.
Cologne?
He smelled amazing and looked even better.
“I set up some things for you this week.” I sounded breathless because that was what he did to me. “We need to talk about it after.”
He blinked in confusion. “After?”
I felt like a woman possessed as my hand fisted the front of his shirt and jerked him forward, making him crash into me. I lifted onto my toes and pressed my mouth to his, desperate to have his lips against mine.
“Oh, I got it.” He chuckled. “Business after the pleasure.”
“I tried waiting,” I said in between kisses, “but I can’t.” I slid a hand up to cup the back of his neck. “I don’t think you understand how badly I want you.”
I hadn’t meant it as a challenge, but he must have taken it as one, because he had me stumbling backward until I was against the side of the staircase. The edge of a stair tread nudged gently into my back as Troy eased a hand down the front of my pants. He hadn’t bothered to undo them, and his forearm was big, but somehow he made it fit and worked his fingers down inside my panties.
I slumped against the staircase and my vision hazed as the pads of his fingers slid over me, exploring.
His smile was victorious. “You’re so wet already.”
“Yes,” I sighed. I hurried to release the button and unzip my pants, giving him more room. “I’ve been like this all day.”
He grunted his approval and claimed my mouth, his tongue slashing at mine. Trembles moved up my legs in waves. His wicked mouth had my hands balling his shirt into my fists and dragging them up.
But to take off his shirt as I was demanding meant he had to stop touching me, and the conflicting desires waged war in my head.
“All day?” His seductive tone and the brush of his fingers made the ache inside me worse. “Try waiting five years, Erika.”
My knees threatened to buckle, but it was like he knew. His free hand latched onto my waist and pinned me to the wall, keeping me upright. His fingers teased like he wanted to be cruel, but he kissed me with adoration.
It popped out before I could stop it. “Why me?”
His fingers slowed as his lips pulled away from me, leaving my skin damp with his kiss.
“I bet you can get any girl you want,” I whispered.
“But I want one woman in particular.”
He thought I was being playful when I was entirely genuine. “Why?”
Troy’s gaze slid down me in an evaluating look and he matched my serious demeanor. “Because you’re confident, sexy as hell, and know exactly what you want.”
It was shocking he saw me like that, especially when I struggled to believe any of that was true. “I’m faking a lot of it.”
His hand withdrew from my pants and he grasped my hip so both of his hands were on my waist, steadying me. His expression said he wasn’t buying it. “I watched you get up on a stage and sing like it was the easiest thing in the world. And after that, I heard you tell your husband exactly how you wanted him to fuck you. I’d never heard a girl talk like that, and—fuck—I never wanted to be someone else so badly in my life than I wanted to be him.” He tore his gaze away, like he didn’t want to look at me while he admitted it. “And you don’t even want to know how many times I fantasized about it.”