“I did enjoy myself when that happened.”
Laughing at how damn adorable and obstinate she was, I let my head fall to her shoulder. “What am I going to do with you?”
“You could do the clit thing again. That would be just a terrible punishment.” She nipped at my ear before speaking in a lower, huskier voice.
“You never answered me. Am I your boyfriend?” I brought my head up, mouth hovering over hers. She hummed, so I kissed her. Slow and soft, just enough to get us both through the next few hours surrounded by the others.
“I know I don’t want you foolin’ around with anyone else.” Her fingers dug into my beard. “I was a secret once, and I’m not about that life anymore. Once this tour’s over, if we were doin’ more than foolin’ around, it would need to be out in the open. I don’t need any more than that.”
My fingers flexed on her stomach and hips. “Then I’ll be your...what? Special man friend?”
She let out a little snort mixed with a giggle. “Yeah, I like that. My special man friend, Santiago. That about sums you up.”
I swiped my nose up the bridge of hers, sighing in exasperation. “Why the hell do you have to drive me so crazy?”
“Hey.” She cupped my jaw in her talented, powerful hands. Up close, her eyes were the color of a baseball field after three days of rain: rich, dark green, shining. “I seem to remember goin’ out on a limb a few years ago and that limb gettin’ chopped off. If you need to DTR, then you’re going to have to be the one to do it.”
“DTR?”
She took my exasperated sigh and threw it right back at me. “Define the relationship. Didn’t your generation watchJersey Shore? I saw it in reruns. It’s where I learned my most well-loved acronyms. Like, sometimes I’m DTF, but I’m always DTS after.”
“Why are you speaking in random letters?”
She tsked. “Snooki and JWOWW wouldn’t be impressed.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I have no idea how we started talking aboutJersey Shore, and goddammit, Maeve, I’m not even going to touch being from different generations.” I jerked her closer. Her eyes went wide, and some of the teasing fell right out of them. “Why would I fool around with anyone else when I’ve got you? No one else exists when you’re in the room. I don’t want to keep us secret. We were making out on the streets of
Paris a few days ago. There’s not a chance a few pictures of us aren’t making the social media circuits. I relish the thought of guys looking at you in my arms and being so fucking jealous, they could spit. ’Cause you’re my girl, Maeve, and I pretty much want everyone to know it.”
Lips parted, little breathy pants escaped. “Santiago—”
My hands slid up her shirt, cupping her breasts through her sports bra. “And Maeve…”
“Yeah?” She raised her chest to me like she was mine for the taking.
“I’m always DTF with you.Always. And I guarantee I’ll be down to snuggle when we’re done, because there is no fucking world where I’m tired of touching you.”
“That’s a shame.” Her voice was shaky and quiet, the words making my knees feel like they were in the process of being knocked sideways.
“What’s a shame?” I asked.
She fisted the sides of my beard, pulling me closer until we were level. “It’s a shame you just said some of the most romantic things that have ever been uttered about me and they’re tainted byJersey Shore. I’m always going to have Pauly D in my head when I look back on this.”
I laughed. “Was it the ‘down to fuck’ part?”
“Oh, I liked that part, but I think it was more the part about touching me. That was sweet, Santi.”
“I keep telling you I like you. A stupid amount, when I think about it. Sometimes, I’m going to need to be sweet with you, and you’re going to have to take it.”
Someone knocked on the dressing room door. Maeve and I jumped apart just as it swung open and Clark stuck his head in.
“Hey, kids. We’ve got some A-listers wanting to meet the band.” He glanced from Maeve to me. “Think you can spare a second for a few photo ops?”
She nodded and reached out to tug the bottom of my shirt. “Come on, Santiago. Time to show off that pretty mug for some Hollywood types.”
Clark walked ahead of us, and I used the thirty seconds it took to walk from Maeve’s dressing room to the band’s much larger dressing room to feel her up. I couldn’t get enough of the way her ass moved when she walked. In my head, I heard a beat with each step. Lyrics too. She’d probably kill me if she knew I planned on writing a song about her ass, but what she didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her.
The bloom isn’t near wearing off