Country Love (A Billionaire BWWM Romance) (11 page)

Chapter
Twenty-Two

Monique

The unfamiliar
hotel room, the rumpled sheets, the smell of sex lingering in the air...and
Tanner Brock's naked body stretched out next to mine. Every part of this was
completely otherworldly.

I rolled over and
surreptitiously swallowed my birth control pill, coughing a little without
water to wash it down. Then I turned to look at him, watching him stare up at
the ceiling, and wishing like hell I had my camera on me to capture the way his
golden stubble swirled on his jawline. He was a work of art.

"How you
feeling?" he asked the ceiling...or me.

I considered for
a moment before settling on the truth. "Pretty great," I yawned,
stretching out.

He rolled towards
me and I came face to face with his chest...and all the damage I had done to it
last night. Bite marks, claw marks, lines of bruising along his neck. My own
body awoke at that moment, and all the little bruises and scratches flamed to
brilliant life. "Holy shit," I murmured, reaching out to touch one
particularly nasty scratch.

He hissed a
little. "Glad you're feeling better," he smiled. "So now, I
gotta ask you, do you still want to kill me with your bare hands?"

"Hmm,"
I smiled up at him. "Maybe?"

He grinned and
swiped a rough kiss across my lips. "Good," he rumbled.
"Wouldn't want you going soft on me now. Just 'cos you like the way I fuck
you..."

"Who said
anything about that?"

"You
did," he growled, rolling over on top of me. "With that punch-drunk
expression on your face. Tells me everything I need to know about how bad
you've got it for me..."

"You son of
a..." he caught my lip between his teeth and bit down. I snarled at him,
and then pressed my naked body up against his. I felt him stir to life, the
length of him pressing against me and moaned. It was almost embarrassing how
quickly he could get me wet.
 

He held my lip
with his teeth, immobilizing me just as easily as if he was holding me down
with his hands. Holding me with his blue gaze, he slipped a finger down into my
wetness. When I hissed again, he sank it inside of me, testing.

I moaned,
helpless the to sensation. Everywhere he touched sent out a trail of sparks
leading directly to my core. My legs spread of their own accord and he growled
his approval.

When he pressed
himself against my entrance, I wiggled downward. He released my lip, but caught
my hands instead, pinning them over my head as he drove himself up inside of
me.

His eyes went
wide again. "Wait, baby, the condom." He pulled out of me and I
practically hissed in frustration.

I wrapped my legs
around his waist and pulled him closer. "Just once," I begged him.
"You feel so good."

His eyelids
fluttered, those long lashes casting a shadow across his cheekbone. He froze in
mid thrust and blinked, then fixed me with that blue stare. I was completely
helpless in his gaze as he slowly, torturously, rolled his hips.

Inside of me, a series
of explosions fired off, one after another. He was touching me...everywhere.
All those secret places I never knew existed suddenly came rushing forward to
meet him. His skin, my skin, the feeling of no barrier between us...

"Shit,
Monique, I gotta stop..."

I moaned as he
pulled back, panting hard. Then I smacked the pillow in frustration.

"Sorry
baby," he growled.

"Don't call
me baby," I muttered petulantly. He looked at me, so uncertain that I had
to laugh. "I'm not gonna bite you or anything," I sighed.
"You're right, we...we...can't do that yet."

"Next place
we stop, we can go get tested," he said eagerly. "I'm clean, I promise,
but I don't expect you to believe that just yet."

Just yet.
I pressed my lips together and stared at
the ceiling. We had spent exactly three whole days together. That was it. What
was I thinking, letting him inside of me without a condom? I knew nothing about
his past, only his word to go on.

Strangely, his
word seemed to be enough.

"What are
you thinking?" he asked. "I can see all those worry lines wrinklin'
up that pretty forehead of yours." He leaned over and brushed a gentle
kiss across it, like he was trying to smooth the lines away.

I pressed my lips
together more tightly. I wanted to tell him...but I also didn't want to hurt
him. In twenty-four hours time, I had gone from only wanting his body, to
wanting his happiness. His smile lit up the room like the sun emerging from
behind a cloud. How could I be the one responsible for dimming the sun?

"Nothing,"
I sighed instead. "Just frustrated." I darted a quick kiss on his
shoulder. "Female equivalent of blue balls."

"I have an
idea that might help," he grinned evilly. His hand went roughly between my
legs, shoving them apart.

When his tongue
met my center, I arched into him, aching for him harder than ever. And the
whole long, delicious time he stayed down there, I didn't have to think about
the fact that we only had three weeks together. Three weeks and then he
continued his tour in Europe and I went back to my regular life...without him.

When I came,
there were tears in my eyes.

Chapter
Twenty-Two

Tanner

I knew she didn't
think I was serious, but I was. We had soundcheck early today, but the second I
got some free time, I had no problem with marching hand and hand with her down
to the clinic.

That moment of
connection when I was inside of her, no barrier between us, clinched it. I was
gone for her. This challenging, feisty, gorgeous woman owned me completely and
I wasn't sure I was ever going to be the same. Or that I wanted to be.

But when her last
cries died away, there was a knock on the door. "Ah, sorry Tanner,"
Jimmy's voice was abashed. He knew what he was interrupting. Fifty bucks said
the other guys ganged up on him and forced him to knock. "But they moved
soundcheck up and all and er..."

Monique squirmed
under me, grabbing the sheets and wrapping them around her lithe body, hiding
her magnificent breasts, and I sighed. "Gotta head into the office,
baby," I whispered, kissing her while the taste of her still lingered on
my tongue.

She blinked
rapidly. "Good. I'll get some shots of you guys playing." She slid to
the edge of the bed, her shoulders weirdly tight. "I need to work today
too." She bit the edge off the last part of her words.

I stood still for
a moment. "You okay?"

She stood up, a
casual smile plastered on her face. Too casual. Monique couldn't hide her
feelings for shit, and right now something was bothering her. This time I was
pretty sure it wasn't me, not while I still had the smell of her on my chin
anyway. "I'm great," she said, pressing her hand to my cheek.
"Time to go to work."

Any chance I
would have had to press her was lost when Jimmy tapped on the door again.
"All right, all right, I'm comin'," I grumbled, pulling on
yesterday's jeans.

Tonight was the
true kickoff to the tour. Last night's solo show was just a warmup, a way to
work through a few lighting cues, while simultaneously making the label bigwigs
feel special. Little silvery flashes of nerves sung through my veins. No matter
how long I'd been living on the road, there was always that jittery feeling
before a show. Excitement mixed with nervousness, mixed with more excitement. I
considered taking a swig of bourbon to calm my nerves, but if I started now,
I'd be completely soused by the time the show opened. Those days were passed.

I made good
decisions now. Careful ones, with the future in mind. This tour was a means to
an end, and at the end of it was Brock Ranch, fully operational and ready to be
lived in full-time. With a wife and kids running around. Little kids with eyes
like their mama.

Wait, what the fuck?

I jolted myself
out of my little daydream just as Monique emerged from the bathroom with a
towel knotted around her chest. Those eyes of hers...the eyes I had just seen
on the different faces in my daydream....

"Why are you
looking at me like that?" she asked warily.

I blushed, hard,
certain that she could see right into my skull and all the plans my brain was
making without my consent. "Because you're the prettiest thing in this
room," I smiled, hoping it sounded smoother than it felt.

She shook her
head, pulling on her shirt over a lacy little bra that was getting my blood all
hot again. "Flattery will get you nowhere, cowboy, we gotta go to
work." Her delectable ass disappeared into a pair of perfectly fitted
jeans.

"You're
enjoying this, aren't you?" I teased her as I buttoned my shirt.
"Denying me and keeping things all business. That's kind of your
thing."

She shot me a
look and before I could react, she had that huge camera in her hands, wielding
it like a weapon. "Strictly business, as you'll recall," she smiled,
firing off that blinding flash before sauntering into the main suite.

I grinned and
shook my head and followed her, humming a tune I couldn't identify yet. This
girl was inspiring in all sorts of ways.

Chapter
Twenty-Three

Monique

The band trouped
into the backstage area like it was nothing at all. So I bit my lip and did the
same, grateful that my camera could hide the wide-eyed awe.

The stadium was a
cavernous space, and in the center of it all, the roadies scrambled around,
assembling lighting towers the size of skyscrapers and giant screens four
stories tall. Huge backdrops had been wheeled into place - dead white in the
glarey houselights - giving the whole stage a hyperreal aura.

I fell back and
checked my meter, then fired off a few test shots as the band found their
marks. The technician up in the booth boomed something technical sounding over
the house speakers and Tanner pursed his lips quizzically. I watched,
fascinated, as he checked with each bandmember in turn, wielding a quiet
authority as easily as he slung his guitar. With a few nods and a quick clap on
the shoulder to Blake, he turned and raised two fingers in the air.

Then a crash of
sound thundered through the air. In an instant, I recognized it as the song
Tanner had closed with the night before, but the effect here was totally
different. With the full band backing him, he strutted around, for a moment,
riding the music to a crescendo. My camera fell to my lap and I watched raptly
as the music paused and Tanner approached the mic, eyes closed.

"Wild
hearts, wild nights..." he crooned into the mic...then stepped back, his
face a storm cloud.

"Dale, my
monitor...."

A fat roadie
hustled from the side of the stage, an abashed look on his face. Quick as
anything, he lifted the earpiece from Tanner's head and replaced it with a new
one. The whole moment was like a well-oiled machine.

These guys were
pros.

I sat through the
rest of soundcheck, only occasionally remembering to take pictures. I spent
most of the time just watching Tanner. Every single thing he did was
fascinating to me, the little muscle that jumped at his jaw, the way he ran his
fingers through his hair, front to back, back to front. The way he closed his
eyes, his mouth so close to the mic he looked like he would kiss it, make love
to it, his hips undulating...

Damn.

I crossed my
legs, leaning forward a little, pressing myself into the seat, glad that no one
could see I was in serious trouble here.

And then at the
worst possible moment, the video display kicked on, and I was treated to a
four-story high version of Tanner Brock's beautiful face as his eyes snapped
open, singing the words right to me. "And our love will be, ever wild...."

A funny
tightening in my throat, an even funnier little skip to my heart. It was
ludicrous, the words weren't for me, every intelligent part of me knew that.
But his blue eyes never wavered from staring right into my soul.