Seduction by Song Page 20

  “Very cool, Mr. Ortiz,” I say, teasingly.

  He laughs and flashes me a devious smile. “Are you surprised, Miss Gouchet?”

  Happier and closer than we’ve ever been, we make our way to the stadium together.

  As I take my usual seat in the front row, I begin to feel more and more self-conscious without the girls. It doesn’t help that the cop we ran into earlier is seated right next to me, glaring at me once in a while as though I were some sort of heinous criminal. I could recognize jealousy in her eyes, but it was hard to fault her for that—Romeo was quite a catch.

  I try to ignore her, instead focusing on the show Romeo puts on. He glides across the stage, as magnetic as ever. I can’t help but worry as the end of the show approaches, though, about who he would choose to come on stage with him. He couldn’t possibly choose me again. It was clear enough that such a habit could be detrimental to his career.

  And Santiago made it very clear that any decline in his ticket sales would mean the end of our relationship or the end of Romeo’s contract.

  I try to reassure myself that Romeo would do the right thing for the sake of his career, but I’m overwhelmed with jealousy every time I imagine another woman up there with him. Without fail, that image would morph into that which was splashed across the magazine Logan showed me—the one of Louise cuddling up to him so closely, her ringed finger displayed boldly against his chest.

  Before I know it, the first chords of “Why I Need Your Love” begin to ring out through the stadium and Romeo is approaching me. My heart beats faster in my chest and I will myself to shake my head, to direct him elsewhere.

  He doesn’t need to be told, though, as he extends his hand to the seat next to mine. Relief floods my whole body as he invites the cop we ran into earlier up on stage. Her face lights up as she steps up on stage and she practically swoons as Romeo begins to serenade her. The jealousy I thought I would feel is blissfully absent. Of course Romeo would choose her—not for any romantic reasons, but simply to win her over and make her forget about the charges she wants to press against us.

  It seems to work beautifully, too. When she returns to her seat next to me, she gives me a huge, genuine smile.

  “You won’t have to worry about your secret, honey,” she says to me over the sound of the music. “It’s safe with me—this has been the best night of my life.”

  And it’s suddenly easy for me to smile, too, as I sway with the rest of the crowd to the encore. This wild ride with Romeo hasn’t been without its ups and downs, but it feels like we’re on our way to a huge up now.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  After the show, there’s such a media circus backstage that it takes me a good fifteen minutes to make my way to Romeo’s side. He sweeps me away into his dressing room to hide out for a while until we can sneak away, hidden from the public eye. He whisks me away in his rented sports car again, making me keep my eyes closed as we near our destination.

  “It’s a surprise,” he insists each time I ask where we’re going.

  I sigh, giddily, and resign myself to the wait when I realize he’s not going to crack.

  When I’m finally allowed to open my eyes, I gasp as I see that we’ve stopped outside the Blue Bamboo—a luxurious restaurant that I had read rave reviews about. I blink down at myself a few times when Romeo comes around to open my door for me, and I shake my head as he extends a hand to help me out.

  “Romeo, I can’t,” I whisper. “I’m not dressed for such a fancy place.”

  Romeo rakes his eyes down my body before smiling and reaching down to pull me out of my seat. “You’re beautiful, mi amor. You could be wearing nothing at all and still be beautiful—in fact…”

  He trails off seductively and grins when I laugh, slapping his playfully on the arm.

  “Oh, fine. If I get kicked out at the door, I’ll have you to blame.”

  I don’t, ultimately, get kicked out at the door. Although everyone else inside is dressed rather fancily, the host that greets us seems to be keen on bending over backwards to please Romeo—he doesn’t even give me a strange look for being dressed so casually in what is obviously a fine dining restaurant.

  We have a luxurious feast, more extravagant than any before. Sure, room service was amazing, but this was gourmet. Romeo orders the award-winning sea bass with mushroom strudel and ginger wisps for us and I couldn’t have made a better choice if I deliberated over the menu for hours myself. Each morsel melts in my mouth, and I practically have to moan with every bite I take.

  “I don’t say this lightly,” I tell him, very seriously, “but this is almost as good as my father’s cooking—and my father was a chef.”

  Romeo laughs, wiping at his mouth as he raises his glass to mine—he had picked the perfect wine to complement our meal, too. “To the finer things in life.”

  I clink my glass against his. “You bet I’ll toast to that.”

  Afterwards, Romeo has me cover my eyes again as we set out for the next surprise he has planned for us. I can’t stifle a yawn as we drive, since it’s well past midnight—the restaurant had stayed open late just for us after all its other guests took their leave.

  Much to my delight, Romeo allows me to open my eyes to the beautiful sight of the Omni Hotel—another pinnacle of luxury in Jacksonville. I smile over at him, grateful to be able to relax for the night.

  “I don’t know if I would have made it through another exhilarating excursion,” I joke as we take the elevator up to our room—the penthouse suite, of course. “I think I’m just about ready to pass out.”

  Romeo laughs and takes my hand, drawing me closer to press a slow, sensual kiss to the crook of my neck. “Oh, I think I can snap you out of that.”

  I grin and shove him playfully before stepping out of the elevator at our floor. The suite is just as luxurious as the last, decorated plainly, but beautifully, in simple shades of blue and white. A bottle of champagne is chilling in the center of the living room and Romeo helps me pop it, both of us laughing as bubbles spill out all over our hands.

  We sip at our drinks as we talk, our conversation once again reminding me of yet another reason I’m so enamored with this man—he’s able to hold a deep, insightful conversation with me like no one else. He genuinely cares and listens when I talk about my father, about how I worry even though he’s a strong man—he just seems so lonely sometimes, with Logan almost never coming home and Mom living all the way across the country in California with her new husband. He listens with rapt interest when I talk about the advancements I’ve made in my dissertation—which I haven’t been working on as much lately since I’ve been following someone across the state.

  “Well, are you complaining?” he asks, that charmingly teasing smile coming back up to his lips.

  I laugh, setting my glass down as I begin to feel the slightest bit tipsy. “No. No, not at all—these have been the most turbulent days of my life, but also, undeniably, the best.”

  “As glad as I am to hear that,” he says, setting his glass down as well to settle in next to me on the couch, “I think I can make it better.”

  I laugh again and shake my head. I didn’t only feel tipsy, but also quite drowsy. “How about we save that for tomorrow, rock star. I really am bone tired.”

  He hums thoughtfully as he brings his hands up to my shoulders, massaging carefully until I moan at the pleasant sensation it sends down my spine.

  “You think so? I think you’ve got some energy left in you.”

  I make a completely noncommittal sound, thoroughly distracted by his ministrations. His hands move further down my back, guiding me to lie on my stomach. I sigh, completely content and almost starting to doze off, as he continues to massage my shoulders with expert care. Despite my drowsiness, I feel that familiar tingle of arousal beginning to spread throughout my abdomen as he slips his hands under my shirt, pushing it up so that he’s massaging my bare skin.

  I shiver in anticipation, immobilized by this sudden onslaught o
f pleasure, as he strips my jeans off again, sliding his hands down to massage my thighs.

  He hums again as he slips his fingers up to tease at the wetness between my legs, smiling as he presses a kiss to my back. “Look at that—I think I’ve convinced someone to come out and play.”

  I moan and shift my hips against his fingers until he slips two digits inside of me, thrusting lazily until my body is aching for more. I push myself up on my arms, then onto my knees, as I press myself back against him.

  “Mm, I think you’re right.”

  “You think?” he whispers, dangerously low in my ear.

  I shudder and push back against his fingers, wanting more inside of me. “You’re right—make me feel good, Romeo.”

  He presses a hot kiss to my shoulder, slipping a third finger inside of me. “How should I make you feel good? Like this?”

  I groan. The additional pressure is just what I needed, but it still isn’t enough. “More.”

  He grins as he removes his hand to spread my legs a little, pressing the head of his cock to my soaking wet opening.

  “Better?”

  I nod and thrust myself back against him, the lips of my pussy swallowing him and dragging him into my body. I moan as he fills me up just the way I needed, thrusting shallowly inside of me as he gasps, too. Already stimulated to the brink of climax by his massage, it only takes a moment for me to come, groaning his name and straining to take as much of him inside of me as he’ll allow.

  We make love for hours on end that night, moving from the couch to the floor to the kitchen to the bed as though we needed to cover every inch of the suite with our passion. I thought I was exhausted leaving the Blue Bamboo, but by the end of the night, wrapped up in each other’s arms in bed, I know I am truly exhausted and fulfilled in a way I’ve never been before.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  In the morning, we wake up to a sound that’s quickly becoming familiar: a loud pounding at the door of our hotel room. I shift in bed, not quite coming fully awake just yet. Romeo is missing from the warm space next to me by the time I really open my eyes, and it takes me another second to register the sounds of voices coming from the other room.

  “Well, I’m not leaving without Erin,” Romeo is saying.

  Someone snarls, the sound reaching into my memories and bringing up and image of Dante. I cringe. Of course it would be Dante. I hadn’t seen his band mates—except on stage, of course—in quite a few days now, but we couldn’t possibly avoid them forever.

  “You’re so fucking gone over this chick, man,” Dante says. “Look, you’ve got to ride with us in the RV. We haven’t had time to talk about our set for days—the papers are going to catch on soon enough that we’re doing the same shit in the same order every night.”

  “Then Erin can come with,” Romeo says.

  “No, she can’t,” Dante retorts instantly. “No girls on the bus. You think I want Santiago to skin me alive? We’re not all his golden boy, you know.”

  “Then deal with it,” Romeo snaps. I could almost see him tensing even though he was out of sight in the other room. “I’ve got a car. I’ll see you at the show.”

  Dante curses under his breath, something that I don’t quite catch. The slam of a door comes not long after, and I’m just starting to sit up when Romeo enters our room again.

  He smiles, as easily as though the altercation out there never happened. “Morning, sleepyhead. Ready for another day on the road?”

  I groan as I stretch my arms out, the pleasurable ache from last night still lingering in all my muscles. “Mmhm. I think that’s all I’m ready for—a nice, long day of sitting.”

  He laughs as he climbs into bed again, pinning down to the sheets with the weight of his body as he drops his mouth to mine—he doesn’t let our lips touch, though, instead hovering mere inches above mine.

  “Really? Not even a kiss?”

  I hum as though I really have to think about that. “Maybe a kiss.”

  He barely waits for me to finish speaking before he claims my lips, nipping playfully at my tongue.

  We spend what’s probably way too much time making out in bed, smoothing the kinks out of each other’s muscles. It’s nearly noon by the time we get on the road towards Atlanta, where Romeo would have a show tomorrow night. I stretch out my legs as soon as we hit the freeway and prop my feet up on the dashboard, feeling free in a way I never have before.

  “Better put those sexy ankles away. I might get distracted,” Romeo teases after we’d been on the road for a good long while.

  I laugh and wiggle my toes a little. “My ankles are sexy?”

  “Every part of you is sexy, babe. Every part of you makes me want to pull you down onto me and feel your pussy clench around my dick.”

  I shiver at the words, instantly aroused by the images he stirs up within me. I sneak a glance at him—or, more specifically, his crotch—and find him half-hard. “Yeah? Whenever and wherever you want, huh?”

  “You bet your pretty little ass,” he says, shooting his trademark grin of seduction by way. “You wouldn’t even complain. You’d let me do it anywhere I wanted.”

  I sigh, feigning annoyance when, in reality, sparks of excitement are shooting through my whole body. “I would, would I?”

  His voice lowers to dangerous tones when he says, “Wouldn’t you?”

  I shiver again, biting down on my lip to resist the urge to touch myself right then and there. We had stopped at a mall just earlier that day to pick up a change of clothes to me, and I was dressed in a simple white dress shirt and a navy blue skirt—practically a schoolgirl uniform—now. I would have been so easily to slip my fingers past my dampening panties and into my aching folds, but I resist.

  It wouldn’t be fair to Romeo, after all.

  Instead, I simply nod and smile back at him. “I would. I really would.”

  Romeo’s lips curl up into a grin again as he glances at me, looking straight through my skirt as though he could see just how aroused I was. “Bet you’d even let me do it on stage.”

  The thought of that makes me gasp, shooting a pang of arousal so strong through me that I feel my nipples hardening against my bra.

  “Mmhm,” is all I can manage to say as I try to even out my breathing. “I would—but you wouldn’t dare.”

  He laughs, a hint of deviousness coming to his eye. “Is that a challenge?”

  I bite down on any sassy retort I might have for that, because Romeo just might make good on his promise. He wasn’t dangerous or stupid, but he was a daredevil to be sure—I wouldn’t put it past him to actually bend me over on stage in front of his thousands of fans and perform such an intimate act right out in the open.

  I can’t deny that the thought is arousing, either. After all, I had that same fantasy not long ago. Instead of writing him off as a joke, I smile flirtatiously and skim my fingers down his arm.

  “Well, I don’t know,” I say. “Was that a promise?”

  Romeo groans suddenly, dropping a hand to press the heel of his palm to his growing erection. “Damn it—Erin, I need to have you now. We’re pulling over. Think there’s a hotel up ahead.”

  I open my mouth to protest, to tell him that we should make it to Atlanta as quickly as possible so that he would have time to rehearse with the band, but my own arousal kept me from speaking. I needed him, too—now.

  We pull over in McDonough, still a ways away from Atlanta (though at least we’re in the right state now), and stop at the first hotel: the Hilton Garden Inn. I was amazed at how Romeo could find luxury, of a sort, in even a small, random town at the side of the road. Parking is easy—the hotel must not be seeing very many guests this time of year—and we manage to book a room without much trouble.

  Before the front desk manager can hand us our keys and send us on our way, a familiar voice booms out from behind us.

  “Well, well,” Dante says, his derisive tone making us both spin around to face him. He’s standing with Vince at his side, and t
hey both have their arms around two sexy blondes (each). “Look who we have here. Finally rejoining the team, rock star?”

  Romeo rolls his eyes and palms the key cards that are finally slid over to us. “What are you doing here, Dante.”

  The man shrugs, tightening his grip on his ladies and making them giggle shrilly. “Same as you, I suppose. Taking a break, having a drink, getting my dick—.”

  “Enough,” Romeo says, practically snarling the words. “You do whatever you want. I don’t need the gory details.”

  Dante sneers, beginning to steer Vince and the four girls with them away towards the pool area. “Whatever you say, man. Come join us at the pool if you want—but, oh wait. Guess you’re too cool for that these days.”

  They disappear through the sliding glass doors, finally leaving us alone to take the elevator up to our room. The deluxe suite is lovely, just as all the other rooms Romeo has booked for us have been, but the urgent need I felt for Romeo was fading quickly.

  It wasn’t guilt, exactly—Dante had an attitude problem and I knew that wasn’t my fault in the slightest. He had been Romeo’s best friend, though, and I hated the fact that I seemed to be driving a wedge between them. I never wanted to be that girl who tore brothers apart for no good reason.

  Tentatively, I take Romeo’s hand and turn him to face me. “Is everything alright? With you and Dante, I mean?”

  He looks almost surprised that I would be so forward and direct with my questions, but his expression softens after a moment. “Yeah. Yeah, Erin, we’re good. He’s just—difficult, sometimes.”

  I laugh, nodding. “I can tell. Maybe we should spend some time with him?”

  He quirks an eyebrow at me, then, the skepticism clear. Understandable, too. Although I never really fought with Dante, we both made it clear enough that we weren’t made to exist in each other’s company. I refused to let our enemy status come between Romeo and his friends, though, so I put on a smile and gesture to the bag I’m carrying.