With a nod, Joe let him through before ushering us inside the lift. By way of conversation, I asked, “What floor are you on?”
He told me they had the entire thirteenth floor which I should have remembered. Somewhere in the back of my mind, a vague memory brewed. I grinned, “Why the thirteenth?”
Joe shot him a look and rolled his eyes while Blake laughed, “We have an image to uphold. Thirteen is shrouded in superstition… why not?”
“Uh-huh! Working it, aren’t you?”
The door opened and Joe led us to a room, used the keycard to enter, and checked it out before allowing us inside. He paused at the door to say over his shoulder, “I’ll be next door if you need me.”
After he left, Blake switched the TV on but quickly turned the station when the local news featured their band.
“You don’t like the fame, do you?”
He shrugged, “At first, I did. It started to wear on me after a while. About that interview…”
“Blake, I can’t be unbiased here so…”
He studied my face, “Just write the truth. What did you think?”
“You guys sounded excellent. Pumped the crowd like pros and all that. I wanted to do a piece that showed behind the scenes but I…”
“What if you just interview the remainder of the band and avoid writing about me?”
My eyebrows rose, “That’s not what the fans want. You’re the one at the mike so they want to hear about you.”
He shrugged, “So, write a little about me and focus on the other band members. The drummer is new. I know he’s chomping at the bit to get attention.”
I thought it over for a second before nodding, “Okay, I’ll try.”
He called the other members in as I grabbed my notes. While we waited for their arrival, he pulled a bottle of champagne out, “Cause to celebrate.”
I shook my head, “I can’t write if I’m seeing double.”
“Just sip it, then.”
I took the glass he offered, “I don’t remember you being so pushy!”
He laughed, “Oh… you have no idea!”
Before I could respond, the band filed inside his room without knocking. The bassist’s eyes darted between us and nodded, “So this is the woman that’s changed your mood lately.”
Blake shot me an ‘I told you so!’ look and reluctantly nodded. The bassist stuck his hand out, “Devon. Nice to meet you and don’t do you dare leave.”
I laughed and shook his hand as the lead guitarist bounced onto the bed, “Same here. He’s been a terror then flipped on us suddenly. Oh… I’m-”
“I know your names already. You’re Steve…” My pen motioned toward the drummer, “…and you go by Rand.”
“As you probably know… I’m Kristine.”
Each nodded so I proceeded to ask them my list of questions. The drummer excitedly answered most while the remainder gave me tolerance and shot amused looks at Rand. Blake watched the process but he concentrated on me for the most part.
His presence became territorial when the drummer lightly flirted. I nervously downed my champagne and he immediately closed his hand over mine, refilling my glass while pointedly staring at his peers. Quickly getting the message, Rand backed off but blurted out, “Guess we’re not sharing her, huh?”
My jaw dropped as I glanced at Blake who scowled at the drummer, “No, shit! Do I look like I’m in the mood to share her?”
Shaking his head, he rose and asked me, “You’ve got enough material, right?”
I nodded, trying to dowse my own roaring emotions at this new information. I downed my second glass of bubbly while they scrambled out the door. Blake lifted my glass to pour a third while saying, “Yeah, there’s that.”
I tried to stifle my anger. After all, I’d been married. He put the glass down, dragged his shirt off, and lifted me to him.
I calmly asked, “Where do we go from here?”
“You come with us.”
My eyes narrowed, “How am I going to do my job while traveling with you?”
“You won’t need to work. Shit, you can blog about our travels.”
“And join your other women?”
Impatience flashed over his face, “There are no other women.”
“That’s not what they said!”
That wildness flew over his face as his thumb grazed my lips, “It’s been a few months. We’ve both had pasts. Let’s leave it at that.”
I silently nodded, knowing he was right but still irked at the situation. I grabbed the glass of champagne and downed it but, before I could grab the bottle, he pulled me to him, “You’re gorgeous when you’re angry.”
His mouth dropped to mine, firm and demanding, which sent my hormones reeling all over again. After a searing kiss, he pulled back and I realized my ire was fueling his arousal.
My eyes narrowed, “You’ve changed. When did pissing women off start turning you on?”
Laughing, he claimed, “Pissing women off doesn’t do shit but pissing you off fires me up.”
His hand landed on my ass hard and I pushed at him, “Jesus, Blake, what the fuck?”
His dark laughter and wild look made me even madder. Just knowing he was doing it to get his rocks off had me clenching my teeth. He pulled his hand back again to slap my ass.
I growled, “Don’t you…!”
His hand made contact a split-second before he pushed me down. Enraged now, I shoved at his chest which brought thrilled and heated laughter rumbling out of him. The realization that I was fueling him was beside the point. I was so mad that I couldn’t stop now.
He grabbed my flailing arms and pinned them to my side, lowering his face to mine with raw lust brewing in his eyes. His lips stopped above mine to whisper, “Show me what you got!”
“NO!”
He brought my wrists together to free one hand and roughly pinched my nipple, causing me to jerk under him and screech. My temper got the best of me, sending me into an angry writhe.
“Oooh… yeah! That’s it!”
His raw lust shot me into fury. I fought him with everything I had but his teeth slammed onto my neck, showing me who was boss and driving my passion off the charts. I went from fighting to tearing at his clothing. His dark laughter simultaneously amplified my ache and fueled my anger, benefiting his wildness until he’d shredded my clothes right off me.
By this time, I was panting under him while he was holding me down and promising to boldly rock my fucking world. My ragged moaning begs were probably heard by the other band members as he wrestled me over onto my stomach to slap my bare ass. I cursed and fought while my blood boiled from his roughness and my pussy ached for him to boldly fuck it.
He dragged me to the end of the bed. I tore the bed sheets off, sliding them down but I went limp when his fingers thrust inside me. He pumped me into slickness before rubbing my ass and driving a thumb inside, scooting me up the bed. Whimpering, I pushed into the bed and ground into his hand.
He pumped both holes, firing me into a state of need where I was begging him to tear me up. Spanking my ass with his bare hand, he asked, “What do you want?”
“Damn it, Blake!”
I tried to pull myself back up the bed but he fucked me harder, collapsing me onto the bed in a writhing mess while he hissed, “Tell me what you want me do.”
I cried, “Fuck it-fuck my ass!”
He crawled over me, pinned me to the bed by the nape of my neck while I ground against him. I’d only had anal with him but the memories always haunted me. He slowly entered me, making me beg him to wreck me all
