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“No?” It sounded like a question. He was clearly having a hard time with this.
She sat up, pulling the sheet up to her chest. “Say it with conviction.”
His lips twitched. “No.”
“No you won’t say it with conviction, or was that a lame attempt to actually say it like you meant it?”
“No,” he said again. “To both.”
She opened her mouth to tell him to try again, but he curled his palm around her neck and pulled her to him, his lips brushing hers in a way that was intended to shut her up.
And it worked.
His mouth was warm, demanding. He climbed over her, kissing her again, caging her in with his arms.
“How long do we have?” she murmured.
“Gotta be out of here by nine-thirty.” His lips trailed down her jaw, her neck, as he slowly pushed the sheet down to reveal her breasts.
“Plenty of time then.” She gasped as he captured her nipple between his lips.
“My thoughts exactly.” He kissed lower and lower until her eyes rolled into the back of her head.
The man knew how to make her feel good. And she planned on taking advantage of it for as long as she could.
Chapter
Fourteen
“You’re being weird,” Cassie murmured to Presley the following weekend as they unpacked their instruments at the bar. “You promised…”
“I’m not being weird.” He frowned at her. “How am I being weird?”
“You insisted on carrying my bag in,” she pointed out. “Even Marley thought that was weird.”
“I’m a fucking gentleman,” he said, looking annoyed.
“I know.” She lifted a brow. “With an emphasis on fucking.”
Okay, now he was pissed. He was pretty damn sure that if he’d ignored her as they drove to the bar for their next gig she’d have been annoyed at that, too.
He wasn’t sure how he was supposed to behave. Especially when she was wearing jeans that looked like they were painted on her ass and a top that barely covered the parts of her he loved the most.
All he could think about was how she’d felt when he slid inside of her. How her skin flushed whenever he’d touched her.
And yeah, it had been a week and he’d been busy as hell, but they’d managed to talk a couple of times on the phone once Delilah was in bed.
He’d seen her at rehearsals, too. Then followed her home afterward so they could make out in his car for twenty minutes before he headed home to take over from his mom.
But his life was complicated. Between his work and his daughter he didn’t have a whole lot of time. Even less now that they had the band. But he wanted to see her.
Wanted to see her tonight.
Wanted to make her breath tight and short the way he had when his head was buried between her thighs.
“What are you thinking about?” Cassie whispered.
Busted. “About how much of a pain in my ass you are.”
