Husband Stay (Husband #2) Page 11
Then the camera swung back to the stage as I started singing, and a few seconds later I pressed fingertips against my lips as my heart soared and my throat tightened.
I’d expected to be objective, even critical if necessary, but despite the amateur camera work, my performance was breathtaking. I’d never heard myself sound so strong and pure, and Noah’s rumbling harmonies in and around me were the perfect counterpoint.
It was magical, and I felt as if I was looking at someone I didn’t know, some…star who was so at ease with Noah Steele’s arm around her shoulders, it seemed impossible that she wasn’t already selling records and making music videos.
For all the years I’d been singing, I’d had my father’s praise, and more recently I’d had Bernie’s paychecks and polite applause to tell me I was good. But for the first time in my life, I could acknowledge that on a deep emotional level.
Sitting in the departure lounge of a small regional airport, I felt my eyes well up as the last strains of the song played out.
It was beautiful. Undoubtedly the best performance I’d ever given, and I wanted to play it again and again, to convince myself that it really was me, but the boarding call was coming over the loud speakers and I could see people getting up around me.
I dabbed at my eyes and quickly texted Kamal to tell him my flight was on time, then I shut off my phone and got into the boarding queue, gazing blindly at the jumper in front of me. All I could think was an agent will see that. And I knew, without a doubt, that I could have a career as a recording artist. I could perform for large crowds. I could record albums. I could make money.
My life was suddenly full of potential. If I was lucky, love and babies would be part of that. But at the very least I’d be able to share my gift with people who would find pleasure in it and, if I could put my fears about security aside, I could realize what a blessing this was. The future felt enormous, so I didn’t have room for any other thought as I settled into my very comfortable business class seat by the window, right at the front of the plane.
I was just trying to work out how to put the seatbelt with my good hand, when a pair of cowboy boots slid in beside me.
CHAPTER TEN
I looked up in shock to find a familiar body settling into the seat beside me, his jeans stretched so firmly over his thighs that my peace of mind evaporated into a fluttering sensation that battered inside my chest like moths trying to escape.
My awkward plaster cast fell to my side as I sucked in a calming breath and turned in my seat to level a glare at him. “I suppose this,” I pointed at my seat, “…was your idea. More stalking?” He wriggled around to put his seatbelt on, and with elbows out, was so big I felt claustrophobic as he ate up the space beside me, crowding me against the window.
When he stopped, I could feel his thigh against mine and that was way too intimate for my liking, as was his warm breath brushing my face when he leant toward me. “You flew into Coffs. I figured you’d be flying out the same way. So I told the airline clerk you were my fiancé and I wanted to give you a treat.”
Fiancé? A strange skittering sensation ran over my skin at the very idea, but it was soon overwhelmed by the scent of his aftershave as he leant even closer to tuck a stray curl behind my ear.
I edged away primly. “I thought there were privacy laws.”
“There are. But he must have thought, seeing as I knew your name and address and flight, that I was legit.” He was smiling at his own cleverness but that only made me crankier. Was he going to turn up everywhere I went?
“You are clearly underhanded,” I told him in my best no-nonsense voice, intending to turn away and stare out the window for the duration of the forty-minute flight. How had I entertained the idea that I might see him again for uninhibited sex? Was I crazy? I’d never get rid of him. “And don’t think this violation of my privacy—”
“That’s not all I’m planning to violate…” he said, so quietly that I was the only one who heard him. Then he smiled an incredibly sexy smile, gazing at me from the corner of his eyes, “…Angel baby,” he finished. “Just so you know.”
I so badly wanted to rail at him, but instead I was suddenly breathless, staring back into his eyes with my body responding in completely inappropriate ways. I could feel tiny clutching sensations between my legs, against the thick denim of my jeans, and I wanted to squirm, but somehow I held that in.
He glanced down at my sweater. “Nipples up?” he inquired softly.
The hostess arrived to check that we had our seatbelts on properly, so I had a few seconds to regroup. But she wanted my handbag to put in the overhead locker, because there wasn’t a seat in front of us for me to stow it under. I was forced to scrabble through it, looking for tissues and a water bottle and anything else I might need on the flight. When my handbag was stowed, I was left clutching my supplies against my cast, along with an inflight magazine I hadn’t wanted.
I looked at him out of the corner of my eyes. “My seat allocation would have had a pocket in front where I could store these things.”
I could see he was trying not to smile. “But there’s so much leg room here.” He was all stretched out—every delicious inch of him—enjoying the spaciousness he’d purchased. But at five foot, six, it was overkill for me.
“So everything has to be about what suits you?” I snapped, telling myself to be calm, and completely failing.
He leant back and turned his head to face me, lowering his voice again. “My memory of last night included at least three things that suited—”
“Shhh.” I was seriously frowning now. I couldn’t believe he was going to talk dirty to me on a plane where other people could overhear. My heart was racing, but I had to admit it wasn’t all embarrassment. Where our thighs rubbed together, I could feel his warmth and it was really turning me on.
Then he lowered his voice even further and said, “Three to one, Angel baby,” staring me straight in the eye. “Think about that.”
I swallowed tightly, not daring to trust my voice. But on the inside I was saying Don’t worry, I’ve been thinking about it a LOT.
“So…” he drawled. “Wake me up if you’re interested in fooling around.” Then the infuriating great lump closed his eyes and settled himself into the seat as if he planned to sleep through the whole flight.
I stared at him, struggling to calm down my breathing, but he was so damned close, even closer than when we’d been sprawled out together in the bed. His right arm and right thigh were pressed hard up against mine, and I could feel muscles under that white cotton shirt, could see biceps below his short sleeves. And the way he smelt…
I wanted to buy a bottle of that aftershave so I could wear it myself, it excited me so much. Although I doubted it would smell as hot on me. The woodsy scent was faint, and mingled with oceanic notes and the smell of his hair. Look out the window. Don’t look at him. You’re making it worse.
But it was bad already.
I could feel my nipples pressing against the thin silk of my bra. They were definitely up. And being so close to all that hot, hard masculinity was literally scrambling my brains. I couldn’t think past wanting to feel his mouth on mine and those long blunt fingers on my body.
Which was so inappropriate in a public place.
Somehow I managed to drag my gaze down and looked blindly at the water bottle on my lap. The hostess was giving her obligatory safety talk, holding up oxygen masks, and I wished then that one would fall in front of me, I was so light-headed.
But beating myself up about that wasn’t helping my overheated brain. I’d had three orgasms in one night with this man. He’d changed me completely, so it was perfectly understandable that having him beside me, seemingly available, was going to throw me.
I wasn’t demented or degenerate. Or a Super Slut. This was normal.
Well, maybe not normal, but a natural consequence of the pleasure he’d given me. My body was simply eager for more, and it seemed to be responding on autopilot. Sti
ll, if I could slow my breathing and keep my hands on my lap, I was sure all would be well.
Or it would have been if he hadn’t opened one eye and said, “Sex in the toilets is out of the question, by the way. I take up too much room.” Then he closed his eyes again and went back to pretending to sleep.
Which was very clever.
He’d known that would fire my imagination. Not that I’d ever do it, but the very clear visual of him… Go on, say it, Angela, banging me against the door, was now vividly playing out in my mind. In the fantasy we were both naked with my legs wrapped around him, and my breasts were jiggling as he pounded into me, making the door vibrate with each thrust. I would be crazy with lust, kissing him like a wild woman, and—
“Your cheeks are red.” His eyes were open again. “Are you thinking about me? And you? In the toilets?”
I sucked in an unsteady breath. “You have a dirty mind.”
I was such a liar. With trembling fingers, I unscrewed my water bottle and took a sip, buying time, trying to calm down. But I could feel the heat, not only in my face, but all over my body. If we’d been in his house instead of a plane having this conversation, I’d be naked by now. I just knew it.
“Were you going to ring me?” he asked, and raised an eyebrow. “Or were you planning to forget the best sex of your life and write it off as a mistake?”
I couldn’t remember in that moment what I’d planned to do, but hearing him say the best sex of your life, infuriated me. It didn’t matter that it was true, it made me sound like a pathetic specimen who’d so fortunately benefited from his benevolent pity-sex. And to hell with that.
Instead I snapped, “Listen to you.” And added a sarcastic eyebrow. “Is your self-esteem so low that you have to chase after me for compliments?”
It was a terrible thing to say, and I didn’t recognize myself inside this woman who was giving as good as she got, but Jack stirred something inside me that needed to come out. Or perhaps it was the knowledge that he wasn’t so easily offended, as he proved, by smirking at me and closing his eyes again. “I don’t need to hear words. All that moaning last night was compliment enough.”
My right eye twitched as I tried to come up with a suitable retort and failed. At that point I decided the only way I would get through the flight would be to ignore him, so I leant back in the seat and shut my eyes, deliberately slowing my breaths.
The plane taxied and took off, and I had to swallow a few times to ensure my ears popped properly, but apart from that I gave a good impression of being asleep. And in fact, I must have been sleepy because I did actually doze off, despite my over-active hormones.
When I woke half an hour later, my hands were empty and my head was snuggled onto Jack’s shoulder, which wasn’t smart. I pulled back abruptly, staring at him in apprehension, not quite able to work out the consequences of my accidental invasion of his space.
“You’re dribbling,” he said, and wiped a thumb across the side of my mouth, the slightly rough texture of his skin reminding me of all the other places he’d touched me the night before.
“Am not.”
He smiled and lowered his voice to an intimate rumble. “You’re right. I’m teasing.”
We kept staring at each other until, completely against my will, I felt tension sliding out of me, as if he was hypnotizing me into releasing my defenses. I knew I shouldn’t. His friendliness might be some new method of seduction. Only, it didn’t feel like that. As he tilted his head on the seat to gaze at me, I felt as if I’d woken to a different Jack.
His hand was resting near my collarbone where he negligently twirled a loose strand of hair. Then he leant forward slowly, so slowly that I didn’t spook, and he kissed my nose. “You really are an angel when you’re sleeping, when you’re not telling me off.”
His mouth quirked as his gaze drifted from my eyes to my lips. “I watched you last night, you know, thinking how lucky I was—this beautiful girl who can melt hearts with her voice, lying in my arms.” He nodded to himself, and in that moment I couldn’t breathe. His words were like a spell I was frightened of breaking.
Then his gaze rose back to my eyes. “It felt good, knowing I’d given you something you hadn’t been able to get…anywhere else.” He watched me a moment longer, then he frowned. “Unless you were lying.”
I shook my head. His sudden humility was unnerving, so I didn’t have it in me to be obtuse. “I’ve only had two lovers. In my life,” I clarified. “You were the one who…satisfied me.”
He let out a long, slow breath and nodded to himself. “Not every man gets to hear that,” he said softly, then he slid a finger across my collarbone to stroke my neck, up behind my ear where it was incredibly sensitive. For some reason that felt as if his whole hand was sliding down my body, and I could feel my face flushing with arousal again.
“And yet…” His expression grew wry. “You don’t seem eager for more…satisfaction.”
I gazed back at him, wondering why I wasn’t. When he put it in such simple terms, and especially when he wasn’t acting like an arrogant braggart, it seemed silly to walk away from such a powerful attraction, especially when I’d never experienced anything like it before.
What if it never happened again? Maybe I shouldn’t rule it out.
“Can I think about it?” I asked softly.
“Can you talk yourself out of it? Of course you can.” He smiled to soften the sarcasm. “But I’d much rather pin you down to a date.”
“A date?” Apprehension prickled over my shoulders and the spell evaporated like soap bubbles in the sun. “Haven’t we moved past that point?”
He shrugged, all dimples and melting-eyes charm, but suddenly I wasn’t buying it. “It’s never too late for romance,” he said.
And I pulled back against the window, alarm bells ringing loudly. This wasn’t a new Jack. This was the old Jack, knocking on a different door. “You said you wanted ‘an arrangement’.”
He shrugged. “You didn’t. I’m moving on.”
“To dating? To romance?” I narrowed my eyes and decided to test him, “That usually leads to a relationship.”
“If we’re lucky.” His hand slid across the seat to close over my nerveless fingers, stroking them almost absently as he gazed at me. But there was something about his patient expression that didn’t ring true.
And even if he was being honest, a relationship? The only reason I’d get into a relationship would be to have babies, and Jack had far too much sexy swagger to be a decent father, despite this sudden foray into charm. No, I had to stop this in its tracks.
So I shook my head. “I don’t want romance,” I lied, “And my life is about more than sexual gratification.”
He raised an eyebrow, still calm, still patient, still with the trust me half-smile that was starting to grate on me. “Such as?”
“Singing,” I said succinctly. “Thanks to my performance last night, I’ll soon have an agent.” Spoken as if I’d already decided on that.
He nodded slowly, as if he was buying time, regrouping. “So you’re going to concentrate on your career now?”
“That’s right.”
His hand slid off my fingers and onto my upper thigh, stroking perilously close to the hot—and undoubtedly damp—throbbing flesh that was aching for me to shut up and get laid.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” he said, then before I could prepare myself, he leant forward and kissed me, as smoothly and confidently as if I’d invited him, his lips sliding across mine as he breathed into my mouth and then his tongue followed, setting every nerve ending in my already tensed body alight.
I had a moment’s hesitation, but he was so persuasive. His hand slid off my thigh to caress its way up my hip and past my waist to the edge of one breast, stroking under it with his thumb.
And I melted.
I just…relaxed into the chair, into the kiss, into his caresses, until I completely forgot where we were, what we’d been saying, and what I thought of him. All
that mattered was the wholly new and incredible ricochets of pleasure he was creating in my body with the slightest touch.
A soft buzzing in my ears enveloped me along with Jack’s masculine scent which pulled me to a higher level of excitement, amplifying every tingle and sizzle. It was like lying in a warm, effervescent pool with bubbles stimulating my skin on the inside.
I was so lost in it, it was only when Jack leant back to his seat, taking his time sliding his hand over me on the way, that I caught my breath and opened my eyes to find the hostess standing beside us with the drinks cart.
“Coffee?” she asked dryly.
“No thank you,” I choked out, mortified beyond anything I’d ever known before.
In sharp contrast, Jack smiled up at her. “I’ll have a whisky thanks. Neat.”
For him, she came alight, fluttering her eyelashes and taking her time handing him the drink, making chit-chat over the complimentary snacks. Etcetera. And the whole time I sat there, staring at the wall in front of me, wishing a hole would open up and swallow me.
When she’d moved on, he said conversationally, “For a woman whose life is about more than sexual gratification, you certainly—”
“You know what?” I turned on him. “Just because you can…” I lowered my voice. “… make me excited, doesn’t mean I want to—”
“You do, admit it.” All pretense of humility was gone now as he smirked at me over the rim of the glass.
“Doesn’t mean I’m going to. Especially not with a trickster like you.”
“Trickster?” He raised both eyebrows. “Now then. I haven’t been called that before.”
“I’m sure you’ve been called lots of things.”
“Not trickster.” He pretended to frown and consider that. “Am I to understand that you feel tricked? In what way have I misrepresented myself and my intentions here?”
“Romance?” I said cynically. “Come on. You just want…” I dropped my voice again. “You just want to get into my pants.”