Page 38 of The Deviation
“Why did you have to be both?” he murmurs, his forehead pressed to mine, fingertips clutching at my cheeks. “When I saw you that first night, you struck a spark that brought me back to life. Then you turned out to be the dream manager, too. One would have been enough, you know. Both is overkill.”
“I know, right?” I say with a laugh. My hands find the sides of his waist, gripping handfuls of his t-shirt. “I’m still glad I get to be both, though.”
Lifting his head, he looks into my eyes. “Why?”
“Because every time we kiss, that spark in you burns me alive; and because I know how hard I’ll work to give you everything you’ve ever wanted.”
“Everything except you.”
“That’s the way it has to be.” Even as I say the words, my grip on him tightens. We’re both breathing hard, the air between us hot and wild.
“I guess this is it, then.” His voice is barely a murmur. “Time to say goodbye.”
“Not goodbye,” I say with a small shake of my head. “Don’t forget, soon you’ll be seeing more of me than you can stand.”
“You’ll be ordering me around, no doubt.” His arms slide over my shoulders to loop around my neck.
Grinning, I tilt my head until his mouth is almost close enough to taste. “I’ll make polite requests, with much forethought and planning.”
He winks at me. “Sounds hot.”
“You’re hot.” The words are out before I even think to stop them.
We both freeze. Our arms are wrapped around each other. One of my hands is tangled in his hair, and I’m all but licking his lips.
“Or…” He leans his body in to mine, fitting our hips together, and holy hell he’s hard and hot and it’s all I can do not to groan. “We could take the time to say a proper goodbye.” He watches me as my brain attempts to remember the risks and the obstacles instead of the endlessly seductive possibilities. My fingers flex, dragging across his scalp, so I can feel him shiver.
“Nothing is signed yet,” he manages to get out between pants. “We still have time.”
We shouldn’t. I know it. I also know there is nothing I want more in this moment than to spend the night burying myselfbeneath this man’s skin. Imprinting myself on him so he’ll never forget how good we were together for the short time we had.
I lower my voice to a whisper, so the world won’t hear. “We have tonight.”
Johnny’s exhale is harsh with relief. A smile hovers on his lips. “Tonight,” he says with a nod. “Okay.”
“Tomorrow…” I begin.
“We’re over.” There’s more nodding. “I get it.” Any further attempts at clarification are quashed by his kiss. Fierce and thorough, he plunders my mouth until our tongues tangle and moans of acquiescence are forced from my throat.
When he finally pulls away, I stumble after him. “Get out your phone,” he says with a grin, taking my hand as he leads me down the hallway towards his bedroom.
“Why?”
“Text your sister to let her know you won’t be home tonight.” We cross the threshold of the bedroom and he slips behind me, wrapping an arm around my waist. “Because you’ll be with me, and I’m not letting you go until dawn.”
I dig my phone from my pocket, charmed by the knowledge that, even as my brain is short-circuiting, he remembers how seriously I take my responsibility to Hannah. My hands shake as I type out a quick message, both from the adrenaline in my veins, and because Johnny is still touching me. His lips brush the back of my neck. His hands yank my business shirt from the waistband of my pants to slide underneath. The instant I hit send, I toss my phone onto the nearby dresser and turn to face him. For these few hours, under the cover of darkness, he is mine. Just as I am completely, undeniably his.
Our hips fit together as we sink into another kiss. His erection presses against mine through layers of cotton and denim, and a deep groan seems to reverberate through his chest and into mine.
“Fucking hell,” he breathes, his head falling back to expose his neck to my searching lips. “This is all I’ve thought about since the last time.”
“You too?” My low chuckle has him shivering as my mouth and tongue drag down his throat and over the collarbone revealed by the wide neck of his faded Wolfmother t-shirt. “Off,” I growl, yanking the hem upwards. With a raspy laugh, he helps me.
We shed our identities along with our clothing. The straight musician and the respectable manager are left behind as my business shirt and tie land atop his crumpled t-shirt.
I lower myself to sit on the edge of the bed, pulling him in to stand between my thighs. My tongue and teeth lavish attention on one nipple, then the other, as my hands go to work on his jeans. My mouth waters for him. My hands revel in every inch of revealed skin, even as they crave another crevice, a new plane.
His cock springs free, the head flushed a dark red. I bend to press a kiss to the tip, before my tongue sneaks out to lick a bead of pre-come from the slit. He hisses in a breath, his fingertips digging into my shoulders.