Page 38 of When Worlds Collide (Between Worlds #2)

F ive minutes later, I was standing outside of the door to Jihoon’s studio.

Thankfully, the interior of the building was well signposted in both English and Korean, so I’d had no trouble finding it.

There were no windows, but even so, I was temporarily transported back to all those times, so many months ago, where I would walk past studio three just to catch a glimpse of him.

Just like back at Pisces, there was a red light above the door, indicating the studio was in use, but unlike at Pisces, here there was a keypad to lock or unlock the door.

Jihoon had texted me the passcode earlier, and I now keyed this in, hearing the lock click open.

I pushed open the door, and poked my head in to look around.

Jihoon was sitting in front of the mixing deck, headphones on, nodding in time to whatever he was listening to.

Quietly, I let myself in and crept up behind him.

I held my hands over his eyes, making him jump and pull the headphones off, just as I bent down to whisper in his ear, “Guess who?” But instead of pulling my hands down as I’d expected, he spun the chair around, knocking me off balance and pulling me into his arms at the same time.

I squealed as I was thrown off my feet and pulled into his lap, slapping ineffectually at his broad chest. He grinned down at me, pleased with himself.

“Jagiya,” he crooned. “How did it go?”

Panting slightly, I tried to gather my thoughts from where they’d scattered all over the floor. “Good. I think. She’s a tough cookie, that one.”

Jihoon snorted, and pulled me closer against him. “I bet she was putty in your hands.”

I laughed and said, “Hardly putty. I got the impression she thought I was kind of ridiculous.”

“Where is she, I’ll fight her!” He tensed, as if ready to stand and run off and make good on his threat, but I laughed and slapped at his chest.

“Calm down, caveman. She’s right. I am ridiculous. This whole scenario is ridiculous. But-” I held up my hand to cut off the defensive speech I could see bubbling up in him.

“-I think she may have been persuaded to give me a chance.”

He blinked at me for a moment, before a slow smile crept across his beautiful face, his eyes twinkling with the reflected shine from the overhead spotlights.

“I always knew I liked her.” He grinned down at me and impulsively I dragged a finger down his cheek. Impishly, he snapped his head to the side and caught my inquisitive finger in his teeth, nipping it gently.

“Ow,” I whined.

“Poor baby,” he murmured, reaching up to grasp my hand in his and pressing a gentle kiss to where he’d bitten the pad of my finger. I tried to ignore the sudden ache of desire that shot through me.

Clearing my throat, I asked, “So when can I hear what you’ve been working on?”

The predatory way he smiled told me he knew exactly what I was feeling, but obligingly, he spun the chair around and pulled up some tracks on the laptop perched on the deck. He handed me the headphones, and without moving from his lap, I pulled them over my head.

Immediately, Jihoon’s sultry voice blocked out all other sound. I listened, entranced. It was a very different sound from GVibes. It still fell into the ‘pop’ category, but it had a sharper, edgier feel to it.

Where GVibes often hinted at sensuality and attraction – I mean, hell, those body rolls weren’t exactly subtle – this felt like a more overt declaration.

Hearing the way his voice wove intimately around the melody made my cheeks heat.

If this was a rough-cut, the full production was going to be incredible, and I said as much as I pulled the headphones off to lay back on the mixing deck.

I craned my neck up to look at Jihoon who, to my surprise, was looking at me anxiously, like he thought I was going to criticise.

“Joon, it’s incredible. Your voice is amazing; it suits this track so well.”

“You think so?”

“Don’t you?” I cocked my head to the side, trying to see from his point of view.

He shrugged. “It’s different.”

“Different to GVibes?”

“Yes, and anything I’ve done before.”

“You think people won’t like it, because it’s different?”

“Sometimes, people only want the same thing that they first liked you for. The same sound, the same themes. When it’s different, they don’t always support it.”

“I think you should give Vibers more credit. You’ve been a part of their lives for years now. They’ll stand behind you.”

“For everything?” His eyes locked with mine, and I faltered. My silence said more than any words I could offer, we both knew there may be some things they couldn’t move past. A new sound? Sure. A girlfriend? Less certain.

The small studio seemed to echo with the sounds of our recent argument about this very topic, still so raw.

Without warning, Jihoon’s hands cradled my face, pulling my lips to his in a frantic, needy kiss that stole the breath from my lungs.

I clung to him with equal force, curling my fingers into the front of his hoodie, pulling him towards me as close as he could get, and it still wasn’t close enough.

As if sensing my frustration, he moved his hands to my waist and helped to pull me up until I could swing my legs on either side of his, my knees squeezed against the sides of the generously-sized leather chair.

It squeaked slightly as I pressed back into Jihoon, cupping his face in my hands as I traced his lips with my tongue.

He groaned into my mouth as his hands trailed down my body until he was cupping my ass.

I tore my mouth from his, scanning his face and seeing the same desperate need there that I felt.

I didn’t hesitate as I pulled my jacket off, throwing it on the ground in utter disregard, and then helping him to pull off his hoodie, tossing it to join my jacket.

His fingers trembled as he worked the buttons on my shirt, until finally he ripped the last couple as he tore my shirt open.

My chest heaved as he pushed the scraps of fabric off my shoulders.

He roughly cupped my breasts, and I gasped.

My back arched, pressing my breasts more firmly into his palms, and when his hot mouth trailed over the exposed skin, my head fell to the side, lost to the sensations.

Through narrowed eyes, I dimly took notice of the thick padding on the door and walls, and noted with some satisfaction that ENT clearly valued the privacy of its artists.

“Why are you smiling?” He trailed his tongue up my throat before he gently wrapped a hand around it, eliciting a sharp exhale as a thrill shot through me.

“Soundproofing,” I panted, and he grinned.

“No one can hear how I will make you scream,” he promised. I loved it when his accent became more pronounced. The reaction my body had to it was enough to make me moan, a precursor to those promised screams.

I noted with displeasure that he was still wearing a shirt, and I wasted no time in tugging it off until I could run my hands down his chest, his skin so hot against my fingertips. The ridges of the hard muscles twitched under my explorations.

“Baby…” he groaned, and I fucking loved it when he said it in English, the way his tongue moved around the sounds did things to me.

My fingers continued their northern travels until I reached the buttons of his jeans.

Holding his gaze and seeing the desire in his eyes, I popped the button, and then pulled the zipper down.

He had to adjust himself before I could get it all the way down, and he lifted me just enough to help me straddle him properly, angling his hips beneath mine.

I pulled him out and held him gently in my hands, the skin so soft. It always surprised me.

He closed his eyes as his head fell against the headrest and I grinned. I loved that I could make him feel like this.

I moved my hand slowly, delighting in the small sounds he made, the gasps, the desperate keening noises, until he grabbed my hand in his, tightening my grip and moving it. I smirked, watching him, watching me.

Then I felt his other hand trail down my abdomen until he skimmed the waistband of my trousers.

“Off.” He demanded, his tone brooking no conversation, and hurriedly I rose to my feet, slightly unsteady.

I kicked off my shoes, and pushed the black trousers down my legs, kicking them away to join the pile of clothes there already.

I took my time with my underwear, enjoying the way his dark eyes followed my every movement.

I wiggled as I eased them down my legs, and I grinned as his tongue darted out to moisten his lips.

I took a step back towards him, watching as his hand moved up and down slowly. I could almost feel him inside me as I fixated on the slow drag of his hand, my body so attuned to his, so used to how he felt. I swallowed hard, even as I felt my body tightening in anticipation.

I lifted one leg, putting my foot on the outside of his thigh, and I saw his eyes linger on the centre of me, before slowly rising up my body.

He leaned forward slowly, as if gauging my reaction, and I kept watching as he lifted his free hand.

He touched me, softly at first, and then more firmly, always watching me.

As he slid a finger inside of me, I finally slid my eyes closed and rolled my head back, shoulders heaving with my panted breaths.

“So wet,” he murmured, brushing his thumb higher up, shooting sparks through me that made my knees tremble. He pushed in a second finger, moving them in and out in a rhythm that matched the one he was using on himself until I felt myself building to a point I wasn’t ready for yet.

“Joon,” I whined, panting around his name.

I grabbed his wrist, gently removing his fingers and taking my foot off the chair.

Jihoon slid forward, angling his body as I kneeled on either side of him.

I settled, winding my arms around his neck as he put his hands on my hips.

I leaned forward to kiss him softly as I raised up slightly, feeling him move a hand off my hip.

Then I felt him nudging at my entrance. I gasped into his mouth as I slid down onto him, slowly.

He groaned, leaning his forehead against me as I pulled my mouth away.

His jaw clenched as I slid down the last few inches, the angle of the chair making this a wholly different experience, to say nothing of the fact of just where we were right now.

“Ky,” he ground out, his fingers tightening on me reflexively. “Oh, fuck.”

I began to move, slowly at first and then increasing in tempo.

We began to pant in sync, our breaths matching up with our frantic movements, until I began to falter, not able to keep up with the speed I’d set.

Jihoon moved his hands to help, until I just leaned forward, slumped onto his chest and lost to the ecstasy.

I let him take over, thrusting into me until I was a gibbering mess of incoherent moans and streams of words.

There was nothing tender to this. It was a needful clash of bodies, and it wasn’t long until I felt myself building to that crescendo that would tip me over the edge.

Jihoon made good on that promise he’d made. I did scream.