Including her wildly popular cover of “I Love Rock and Roll”.
She set down her eyeliner and smiled at her reflection. She’d piled her dark hair on top of her head and it fountained down around her subtly pink cheeks and not subtly red lips. Gray and smoky purple shadowed her eyelids, a nice contrast to her apple green, shockingly short dress. It would be super easy to move around in on stage, which helped make up for the thigh high boots she still had to slip on. She wiggled her bare toes and relished her last few moments of freedom from leather purgatory. Ah well, at least they’d look hot.
Speaking of hot, her temperature vaulted about ten degrees as the door creaked open. A familiar blond head poked inside. “You decent?”
“And if I’m not?”
Chase strode inside and shut the door. “Then I’m a happy man.” He grinned and slapped a butterscotch candy—his usual pre-show offering—on the dressing table, making her grin in return before he picked her right up from her seat. “Happier,” he amended, pressing his mouth to hers. No hesitation.
He didn’t hesitate about anything anymore. Not about the rehabilitation he’d needed after his surgery, not about making a real go of his bodyguard business, and definitely not about them. It hadn’t been easy figuring out a new relationship in the midst of her tour and Chase’s frequent return trips to New York for his rehab sessions, but they’d managed. They’d come so far in such a short amount of time that Cass had started clucking about wedding plans. They weren’t quite ready for that, but the possibilities were endless.
He’d come through surgery like a pro and his rehabilitation continued to progress right on schedule. He’d been talking to the Daggers manager again, and she hoped he might find his way back on a roster next year. If he wanted to. Even with all his forward momentum, he talked more about Deuces Wild than he did baseball.
While he’d been on tour with her, Jax had handled the business. They had a couple of clients now, enough that they’d added a third member to the team, someone Chase only called Vance. Next week Jax and Vance were coming to the dinner Cass had planned to welcome her and Chase home.
For a little while at least, until they figured out where the road would take them next. They were a team now.
“Wherever you went just now, I want to come,” Chase murmured against her mouth, bringing her out of her reverie.
“You always want to come.”
“Mmm-hmm. No arguments there. You looking so damn fine doesn’t help on that score, by the way.” He grinned and grabbed the very same chair he’d propped under the doorknob the first time they’d had sex there. Also the only time, though judging from the heated gleam in his eyes, he was looking to change that.
“I only have a few minutes,” she warned as he flipped the lock and pushed the chair into position under the knob.
“Good thing I’ve never needed much time to warm up.” He seized her around the waist and lifted her on the dressing table, making her frown.
As well as he’d been doing rehab-wise, she didn’t want him to have a setback by throwing her around as if she weighed nothing. His effortless strength turned her on like crazy and she loved how he made her feel so tiny—though she definitely wasn’t—but his health came first.
Luckily his current preoccupation with the cleavage revealed by her low-cut dress prevented him from noticing her worry. He ran his nose over her collarbone, eliciting a shiver. “You still wearing my panties?”
That particular phrasing made her giggle. “Find out and see.”
Rather than obliging her, he rubbed his thumb over the waistband through her dress. She’d probably do better panty line-wise to go without underwear, but she couldn’t go that far. That wasn’t her. She could handle the sexy makeup and the skimpy outfits and the flirtation with her fans. But she wouldn’t turn into someone she wasn’t for any price. She didn’t need acceptance that much anymore.
She’d begun to find her own self-acceptance deep inside herself. And she had Chase to back her up, always.
He tweaked her nipple between two fingers and earned her breathless moan. “Since I seem to be having trouble holding your attention tonight, I think we’ll have to try out that brand spanking new couch in the corner.”
“Loveseat,” she corrected automatically, smiling at his narrow-eyed look. “Sorry, I’m too excited. Pre-show jitters.” She reached for his belt and kissed his sulky mouth. “Settle me down, Dixon. Tame your woman.”
His derisive snort made her laugh again. But she fell silent as he took over for her with his belt, jeans and boxers. Watching him disrobe always turned her crank. The instant he’d freed himself, he wrapped her fingers around his thick, hard length and led her into a quick rhythm. Then he fisted his other hand in her hair and dragged her mouth to his, showing her without words that maybe she’d underestimated his ability to do as she’d asked.
He understood what she needed. Each time. Every time.
Leaving her to work his cock without his assistance, he flipped up her skirt and delved between her thighs. The soaked blue cotton between her legs made his eyes fire. That or the punishing grip she had on his erection. She understood what he needed too.
“You want me inside you?” He yanked off her panties, the ones that claimed her ass as his. That morning, right after she’d put them on, he’d run his tongue over those panties, tracing his name on her cheeks. Slipping that wicked tongue between them after he’d peeled the cotton away.
“You know it.” Already shivering, she rubbed her cheek against the slight stubble on his jaw, craving the brand of his flesh on hers even though others would see her reddened skin. She wanted his smell and textures all over her when she walked on stage. “Take me hard.” Her gaze flickered to his and lingered. The pulse of heat between them snapped like a tangible thing. “Own me.”
Moving forward, he wedged his hips between her legs. She shut her eyes and gripped the edge of the table, waiting for him to plunge. To forge that undeniable link between them.
Instead he lifted her knees, spreading her wide open and bathing her in the warm stream of his breath. The first wet swipe over her quivering center had her lurching forward to bury her fingers in his long, silky hair even as disappointment and concern crashed through her like a tidal wave.
He sucked on her clit and used his thumb to circle her entrance, darting in and out until her rampant arousal audibly slickened each entry. Those wet sounds made her writhe almost as much as the pressure of his lips and tongue. They also embarrassed her, becaus
e how could she be so close to orgasm when he might be in pain? If he’d had a tough day at rehab he would often bend to her and satisfy her that way, so that she couldn’t tell if he merely wanted to go down on her or if he hurt. She hated even mentioning what she suspected he still saw as a vulnerability. He wasn’t weak—