A Lush Rhapsody: A Rhapsody Novel (29 page)

I wind my arms around his neck and smile up at him. “It’s okay, I forgive you. I’m just glad you figured it out.”

“Me too, baby. Me too.”

* * *

L
ater that night
I find Blaze wearing only a pair of faded jeans, sitting on my sofa with his guitar, strumming softly.

“Did I wake you?” he asks, moving to set the instrument aside.

“No. Not at all. Don’t stop,” I say as I curl up in the corner of the sofa and stretch my legs out so I can put my feet on his lap. “Where’d the guitar come from?”

“I had it out in my car.”

“Can you not sleep or something?”

He strums a couple of chords. “I had a song running through my head. I had to get it out, see if I could work through it.”

I watch his chest in the moonlight that streams in from the open windows. “What kind of song?”

“A song about you,” he says, giving me a beautiful smile.

I sit up. “You’re writing a song about me? I want to hear it!”

He shakes his head. “Not until it’s done.”

“Please?” I bat my eyelashes at him and he chuckles.

“Save your wiles, woman, they won’t work on me.”

I climb onto my knees and lean toward him, making sure to let my camisole gape open at the chest. I see his eyes dart down before his lips twitch and he looks back up. “You want to bet?” I give him my best coy look then run my tongue across my teeth and moan.

“Tully,” he warns, moving the guitar to one side.

“What’s the matter?” I arch my back and bat my eyes again before splaying my hand on my abs and sliding it down toward my sleep shorts. “Can’t stand the…heat?” The last word comes out breathy and rough.

He lays the guitar on the floor and before I can blink I’m on my back, his naked chest above me, his mouth sliding over mine, all sizzle and tongue and slick seduction.

“I thought you could resist me?” I gasp.

“Fuck no,” he answers. “But I’m still not going to play you the song.”

“Okay. You can make me come instead.”

“Deal.”

We melt together, sweat, and heat, hands and mouths. And when he finally enters me, we weave into one another like two halves of the same soul. He is hard and smooth and he fills me in a way nothing and no one ever has. As I clutch at his bare skin with my nails and cry out his name in the moonlight, he roars mine back at me until we’re both spent and we collapse, gasping on the sofa.

“I need to tell you something, baby.”

“Okay,” I squeak, too exhausted to form more than one word.

“I love you.” He kisses me softly on the nose.

My eyes tear up as I gaze at him. “We’ve never actually said it, have we?”

“No. I’ve known for a while, but I didn’t want to scare you off. It was too soon.”

“I think I’ve always known. Since the first day we met.”

“Always known what?” he asks.

I look at him, wondering if he’s serious, and then I realize—he needs to hear me say it. I smile at him. “Always known that I love you, of course.”

He grins, so happy and so at peace. Finally. “Oh, that’s good to know.”

“Isn’t it?”

“Short stack?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m going to love you always.”

“Same here.” I tell him. “Same here.”

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T
urn
the page to read an excerpt from Racing to Rhapsody.

S
he's Racing
…

Shannon Gunn lives life in the fast lane. She drives fast, talks fast, and is one of the fastest rising managers in the music industry. But Shannon's also scared--scared to fail, scared to let anyone know the real her, and scared to need someone.

H
e's Waiting
…

Dez Takimoto lives life in the Zen lane. He's wise beyond his years, a kind soul, and a highly respected member of Rhapsody, the rock band he started with his best friend. But what Dez wishes for most in life is passion--the kind that moves mountains, steals hearts, and runs soul-deep.

T
heir Two Hearts Collide
.

When Shannon and Dez are thrown together for a whirlwind Rhapsody promo tour, she races into his heart and he discovers that true passion can be as intensely painful as it is beautiful. She won't slow down long enough to fall, but he wants her last race to be to him. The collision between them could be catastrophic.

T
he motorcycle careens
around the corner at the far end of the block. The Ducati’s engine roars and the rider, wrapped in red and black leather, leans into the turn, knee nearly scraping the pavement before the bike snaps back upright.

I wince as it weaves its way around two cars, sliding in between the lanes before cutting off a third car as it makes its way onto the curb and screeches to a stop right in front of me. The driver pulls off her helmet, letting her long red hair cascade down over her shoulders as she shakes it out.

“Fancy seeing you, here, Dez,” she says, hanging the helmet over the handlebars and swinging one long sleek leg off the bike.

My heartrate slows some now that she’s turned the monster off and is on solid ground. I feign casual as I lean back against the wall of the building, hands tucked in the front pockets of my jeans. “Well, you did say we had a band meeting. I’ve never missed one yet.”

“You’re usually waiting in my office, not out here on the street.”

I shrug, noticing that the air is a hell of a lot warmer here in LA then it’s been in Portland where I’ve been living the last four months. Shannon squints at me like she’s trying to figure out what’s going on in my head. I get that from a lot of people, but for some reason it stings a little when I get it from her. I guess in my romanticized view of things
she
should be able to get me without having to work at it.

“I was soaking up some sun before I had to go in and be locked in that glass prison where you spend most of your time,” I tell her. “I had no idea you’d be pulling up right here.” I’m a liar. I asked her secretary and stalked her to facilitate this little meetup.

She unzips her skintight leather jacket, revealing a nearly as tight white top beneath. It’s silky and has a touch of shine to it, making me want to reach out and stroke it. The beautiful curves beneath the top don’t hurt either. Shannon is pure sexual energy. It flows around her, an aura of heat and seduction that’s very hard for me to resist. After four months of watching my best friend Blaze and the love of his life, Tully O’Roark, I’ve decided that I don’t want to resist anymore. I want what they have.

I’ve never been envious of anyone in my life, and I imagine it’s not the healthiest thing right now, but I can’t seem to control it. I’ve loved people in my life, had some fantastic partners in bed and out, but Shannon’s the only person I’ve ever met that makes me
want
so completely. What I feel around her is intense—passionate—in a way I’ve never experienced before. And that’s why I’m out here on a sidewalk in downtown Los Angeles in the fucking heat.

“Let me give this to the valet and I’ll ride up to the office with you,” she says, folding the jacket and putting it away in the small storage container on the back of the bike. She removes a different jacket, more of an office styled thing, at the same time.

I nod and follow her as she rolls her bike to the entrance of the parking garage a few feet away. The parking attendant comes out immediately, greeting her by name and smiling as he takes her bike. When I go to follow her out he winks and grins at me. Yeah, like I said, she’s dripping with sexual energy.

I reach past her when we get to the building and open the door for her. As I do, my face is within inches of her thick, wavy hair, and I can’t help but take a deep breath. She smells like cinnamon and motor oil. Doesn’t sound sexy, but it is.

“You’re always such a gentleman, Dez,” she jokes as I follow her in.

“If opening a door for someone qualifies me as a gentleman you’re not spending time with the right kinds of men.”

She glances at me with suspicion. “I had no idea you cared,” she quips. It’s unclear whether she’s joking or not.

“More than you could imagine,” I mutter under my breath. We reach the elevator and like magic the doors open. I’m relieved when I see the car is empty.

We step in and I don’t crowd her, but I lean against the wall close enough that I can watch her expressions carefully.

“So—“

“Shannon—“

We both talk at the same time, and then stop. Our gazes catch, and there it is. This fire that burns through me, it makes my whole body clench with desire. I have flashes of visions—her naked body in the moonlight, cool light roving over her silky skin, my lips on her breasts and her core. Gasps, moans, whispers of breath. It’s enough to make me break out in a sweat even in the air conditioning of the elevator.

“You first,” I say quietly, gesturing for her to continue what she was going to say.

She blinks at me as if she can’t remember what we’re even doing here.

“I, uh, I forgot.” Her voice is full of irony and surprise, as if the idea of her losing her train of thought is ridiculous.

“I didn’t,” I say. “Forget, that is.” I look at the numbers blinking by above the doors. I’m running out of time.

“I want to take you out,” I tell her, shifting so that I’m leaning one shoulder against the wall instead of my back. Now I’m facing her and partially caging her in to the corner of the car.

She stares at me, nonplussed for a moment. “Like on a date?”

I shrug. “Yeah. Like that.”

It’s approximately five full seconds—I know because I count them—before she bursts out laughing. The laughter lasts for closer to ten seconds. I count that too. She waves her hand in front of her face, fanning herself as she tries to stop the runaway train of her emotions—because yeah, the laughter is only the tip of what she’s feeling, I can see that clearly.

“Oh, God, I’m sorry, I thought you were serious for a minute. Jesus, Dez,” she smacks me with the back of her hand across the chest. “Whose idea was this? Garrett’s or Carson’s?” she asks, referring to two of my bandmates.

I look at her, my face nothing but serious.

“Dez?” I see the blush start at her neck and travel upwards to her cheeks.

“Dez.” Her voice is quiet now, her eyes sad and apologetic. “I didn’t mean…”

She grasps for what to do now, how to extricate herself from what she thinks is my humiliation.

I see the elevator numbers reach our destination, but before the doors open I step toward Shannon, stopping just short of touching her body with mine. I leave my arms by my side but look her in the eyes, refusing to let her gaze drop from mine.

“I’ve never been more serious in my life,” I say softly.

The elevator chimes our arrival and I step away as the doors slide open. I turn to see Shannon gaping like a fish out of water before I say, “Are you coming?” and walk out.

* * *