Page 21 of A Way Out (Rock Star #2)

Chapter Twenty

M aria rushed to her bedroom to hide until she could get her breathing under control. She was hot and flushed and achy between her thighs, all because Oz had played his guitar and sang a song about sex while staring her in the eyes.

She went into the bathroom and wet a washcloth with cold water, pressing it to the back of her neck to cool herself off without ruining her makeup or hair.

Why did the man have to be so infuriatingly beautiful and wonderful and so utterly unattainable?

“Hey,” he said from the doorway to his bedroom.

“Speak of the devil,” she muttered without looking at him. She hadn’t flipped on the switch, so only the barest amount of sunlight filtered into the room through the two open doors.

“That sounds ominous,” he commented, leaning on the doorjamb, cool as a flipping cucumber.

She didn’t want him to be calm, cool, and collected. She wanted him completely unhinged. As desperate as she was.

“Is there anything I can do?” he asked quietly.

She caught his eye in the mirror. “You can have sex with me. Right now.”

His eyes widened. She swore she could actually see his pulse rate kick up. Her gaze dropped to his shorts.

He was already hard.

“You do want me,” she whispered.

“I never said I didn’t.”

“It doesn’t have to mean anything.” It meant everything.

“Maria…”

“I need a release.” She grasped the front of her dress, began unlatching buttons. “If you won’t help me, I’ll do it myself.”

She didn’t ask him to leave.

His gaze tracked her fingers as they nimbly moved lower and lower, until her dress fell off her shoulders and pooled at her feet, revealing the flesh-colored bra and lack of panties she intended to wear under her maid of honor dress.

His eyes flared. His mouth fell open. And then he very deliberately strode into the bathroom until he stood directly behind her, looking at her in the mirror.

Her breath hitched.

Without breaking eye contact, he plucked the washcloth off her neck and lowered his head to kiss her bare shoulder. The silver ring was a tiny jolt of coolness against her heated skin. She reached back, clasped both of his hands, and brought them around to cup her breasts.

He closed his eyes. After a moment’s hesitation, he tugged her bra down, freeing her breasts, and then he began to massage, tweaking her nipples until she moaned.

He lifted his lids to half-mast, watched his own hand slide down over her belly, until his fingers slipped through the wetness gathering between her thighs.

She leaned back against him as he stroked her. His lips grazed her shoulder again, her neck, her cheek. She turned her face into his kiss, but kept her body facing the mirror.

Breaking the kiss, he whispered next to her ear, “I want to fuck you, Maria.”

“Please.” She’d never sounded so wanton in her life.

Pulling his hands away from her body, he flipped off his shirt, scrabbled with the button and zipper on his shorts, then reached into his toiletry bag and rummaged around until he found a condom.

Ripping into it with his teeth, he quickly sheathed himself, all while she tracked his movements through the mirror.

Wrapping an arm around her middle, he pulled her flush against his body. She could feel his erection pressing into her backside.

“Are you sure about this?” he asked. “I can just get you off and walk away.”

“You can?”

“Well, I’d probably hop into the shower and take care of business myself,” he admitted.

She shook her head. “I want this. I want you.” All of you .

She kept that last bit to herself.

Their eyes locked in the mirror again. He slowly pressed against her back, encouraging her to bend forward and brace her hands on the counter.

She spread her legs wide.

He grasped his erection and gave it a couple of strokes before lining it up with her opening, glancing up and catching her gaze again before pressing into her.

She gasped, pushing back against him as he filled her.

“So good,” she crooned.

“Fucking perfect,” he agreed, pulling out and thrusting again.

And again. She stood there and took it, her body twisting and coiling, tighter and tighter, until, seconds after his fingers found her clit, she came apart, biting her lip to keep from crying out as the orgasm slammed into her.

He pumped only a few more times before he chased her over the edge.

With her arms still braced on the counter, Maria dropped her head, closed her eyes, and focused on breathing steadily, trying to calm her racing heart.

Oz shifted behind her, pulling out and stepping away. She immediately missed his warmth, even though her skin was damp with sweat and she couldn’t shower because she’d ruin her makeup and hair.

She heard water splash into the sink next to her and opened her eyes. Oz twisted off the tap and wrung out the washcloth she’d been using earlier.

Then he placed the washcloth on the back of her neck, instantly cooling her.

“Thank you.”

“Everything okay?”

She smiled. “This is definitely different from the last time we had sex, so yes. Although I should probably clean up.” She gestured at the toilet.

His lips brushed her shoulder, his eyes holding hers in the mirror. She’d never felt more seen in her entire life.

“I’ll step in here.” He thrust his thumb over his shoulder, toward his bedroom. “Open the door when you’re done, okay?”

She did just that, dressed in the sundress she’d shucked off, even though she had to start getting ready for the wedding soon.

Oz was laying out an outfit on his bed, but he turned and smiled at her. “Come here.”

She wandered deeper into the room.

“This is what I plan to change into for our concert tonight. What do you think?”

I think I don’t understand what’s going on here . “It’s nice.”

“Hmm. I was going for sexy guitarist.”

She laughed. “Oh, it’s definitely sexy guitarist.”

He slipped an arm around her waist and hauled her so close she had to drape her arms around his neck because there was nowhere else to put them.

“Will you be my number one fan tonight?” he asked before pressing his lips to hers. He probably meant for it to be a quick kiss, but she held him, opening and licking her way into his mouth.

Cupping the back of her neck, he tilted her head to just the right angle and kissed her back, his erection already swelling again, nudging her belly.

“Yes,” she said when he pulled away to trail kisses across her cheek to her ear.

“How much time do we have before you have to get ready?” he whispered before nipping her earlobe.

She moaned. “I-I think we have time.”

“Excellent.” One hand slipped under her dress, squeezing her bare backside.

More moaning ensued, until the door to her bedroom banged open and a child’s voice called out, “Mama! Where are you?”

She jerked away from Oz so quickly, she developed a head rush. He wrapped his hand around her bicep to steady her.

“Hey, it’s okay,” he said. “We’re decent. Well, other than my woody.” Grimacing, he adjusted himself. “There. Less conspicuous. Hey, kiddo.”

Riley came dancing into Oz’s bedroom. “There you are. Hi, Oz.”

“What’s going on, Riley?” Maria asked. Could she convince her daughter to go back downstairs for a few more minutes?

“Nuthin. Just looking for you. Is it time to get ready for Aunt Holly’s wedding? Aunt Lacey said she’s getting married too. And she told me to call her Aunt Lacey.”

“Uh, that’s sweet. We have a little time, sweetheart. Do you want to go back downstairs?”

Oz smirked.

“Nu-uh. Let’s put our pretty dresses on.”

She threw Oz a longing look. He winked.

“You should go put your pretty dresses on,” he suggested. “And when you’re ready, I’ll escort you down to the wedding.”

“Oh. Okay.” That sounded suspiciously like a date, although not really, since they were all staying in the same house, and as tight as these two bands were, Maria doubted very much anyone would blink twice at Oz escorting her and Riley down the stairs.

They’d probably assume he happened to be in the right place at the right time.

Nothing more.

“Do you want to see my dress before I put it on?” Riley asked, snagging Oz’s hand and pulling him toward the bathroom.

“I already did, remember? Just yesterday.”

“Oh.” She sounded disappointed.

“But I’d love to see it again,” he assured her, and Riley immediately brightened, dragging him all the way into Maria’s bedroom.

Maria could hear her phone ringing, so she headed over to pluck it off the desk while Riley opened the closet and pointed at her plastic-covered dress, Oz making all the appropriate ooh and ahh noises.

As cute as that scene was, Maria frowned when she glanced down at her phone and saw Vic’s name. He hadn’t called since they left Washington last weekend.

“Hello?”

“Maria? Where are you? No one has seen you in town all week.”

She sighed. “I’m not in Roma, Vic. I’m at Holly’s wedding.”

“Holly?”

“My sister.” It never ceased to amaze her how easily Vic and her mother could pretend her younger sister didn’t even exist.

“She’s getting married? Is it to one of those rockers at your grandmother’s funeral? And you’re there? With our daughter?”

She supposed she ought to appreciate that he was even calling. “Did you want to talk to Riley?”

“I want to know where the two of you are.”

She glanced over at Oz, who was now helping Riley into her dress and doing a marvelous job of not ruining her hairdo. He zipped her up, then twined the bow, and Lord, Maria might just swoon if he kept this up.

“Are you there?” Vic demanded.

“Yes, sorry. What did you ask?”

“Where are you, Maria? Where have you taken our child to?”

She frowned at the phone. Vic was choosing now to suddenly be concerned over her and Riley’s whereabouts?

“We’re in Missouri. Holly’s fiancé grew up here. It’s a small, private ceremony.” Why she was telling Vic these details, she didn’t know.

“Missouri? You drove all the way to Missouri by yourself? With my child in the car?”

Now Riley was “his child”?

“I drove to LA and then flew to Missouri, and what is your point, Vic?” When she’d come upstairs, she’d had plenty of time to prepare for the wedding, but between the impromptu bathroom sex and now this call, she was getting down to the wire.

She still had to change into her dress and add jewelry and powder her nose and freshen her lipstick.

She really needed to get off the phone.

“I’m ready for you to come home.”

She didn’t hide her sigh. In fact, she made it nice and loud and breathed directly into the phone’s speaker. “I’m kind of busy at the moment.”

Oz had finished helping Riley dress and was now watching Maria. She turned toward the sliding glass door, like somehow that would keep him from hearing her side of the conversation.

"When can you come home?”

That place isn’t my home. Not anymore . “The wedding is in less than an hour?—”

“Tomorrow then?”

“Vic, I have other things going on. I cannot just hop on a plane when you’ve decided you’re ready to play nice.”

“I was never not playing nice, Maria. For God’s sake, we’d just gotten divorced. I think I had a right to need some space.”

She rubbed at her forehead. He was right, darn it.

“I miss Riley,” he said, sounding as surprised as she felt.

Great, and now she felt guilty too. She sighed again. “I have to figure it out. I’ve taken a job, working with Holly.” Technically, she was working with Demigoddess Revival, but explaining that to Vic would take far more time than she had at the moment and real talk; he wouldn’t care.

“I have commitments, at least through next weekend.”

They had the two shows in Tulsa. Then Phoenix on Friday, followed by Vegas on Saturday, before the band was due back in LA for shows Bridgette had previously booked.

It was a lot of driving without a tour bus, but she’d let Oz know they could use her Cadillac.

It was plenty big enough for the members and their equipment.

Although if Bridgette kept booking shows like it seemed she intended to, they were going to need to look into renting a tour bus sooner than later.

Maria shook her head. “I really need to get dressed for the wedding. I’ll take a look at my calendar and call you tomorrow, okay?”

“Talk to you then,” Vic said cheerfully before disconnecting the call.

There was so much to do. So many details to iron out. Damn it, Vic’s call could not have come at a worse time.