quite manage to pull in.
“That’s enough, I think,” he said, his voice rough.
She looked dazed, dizzy. A lot like he felt. “I …”
“Don’t worry about the press,” he said. “I’ve got work to do, so I’m going to go to my room now.”
He turned without looking at her again. Because if he did, if the look in her eyes reflected the longing he felt, if he caught her scent, he would be lost again.
He couldn’t afford that. It was a matter of keeping his focus. And it was a matter of pride. He wouldn’t lose either.
Notes moved through her. Music, a melody, vague and unstructured. Noelle turned over in bed, felt the cool sheets against her bare legs. The chill didn’t last long. As soon as her thoughts came into sharper focus, she remembered the kiss.
Ethan’s lips moving over hers, so expertly. So sensually.
Her first kiss. And it had been … it had been so much more than she’d imagined it could be. All fire and need. Exciting. Terrifying. It had brought something out in her that she hadn’t felt before, something she hadn’t realized lived in her.
She sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed, her toes digging into the plush carpet. She could feel it swelling in her, moving through her. It made her ache. Or rather, it added to the ache that was already centered in her chest. An ache that was physical as well as emotional.
It was as if everything was changing, shifting beneath her feet. Not like the cold shock of change that had happened when her mother had disappeared with her money, but something else, something more subtle, but even more dangerous in some ways.
She was starting to feel changed, rather than simply feeling that her life had changed around her. She felt more power. More control. And less, at the same time. She wasn’t sure how that worked exactly.
She closed her eyes again, found the melody she’d heard in her sleep. Vague still, but present. Inspiration that felt familiar, like something she used to feel before. She stood, excitement flooding her, and walked through her room, out into the main area of the hotel suite. It was automatic, sitting at the piano, her fingers resting lightly on the keys.
She could still feel Ethan’s lips on hers, the hot press of his hand on her waist.
She pressed one key down. Low. Soft and tentative at first. Then she added another. Several joined together, the strains harmonizing, creating a haunting dissonance that filled the room, that reflected the feelings swirling inside of her. Minor. Confused. A little bit sad.
“What are you doing?”
She halted her movements and looked up. Ethan was there, wearing only a pair of jeans resting dangerously low on his hips, revealing lines that led to a part of his body she definitely shouldn’t be thinking about. She shifted her eyes up and it was really no better. His chest was art, his abs a sculpture. Every inch of his body was well-defined, dusted with just the right amount of dark hair. Sexy beyond all reason.
“Playing.” She forced the word out around the lump in her throat.
“Not a drill.”
“No.”
He walked closer to her, resting his forearm on the closed top of the shiny black grand. “Not a piece I recognize either.”
“Original,” she said. And as she said it, she realized it was. It was a song. And it had come from her.
Her stomach tightened.
“I liked it. What was it?”
“I don’t know,” she replied. Because it was true. She wasn’t sure what she felt. What she wanted.
He circled her, moved so that he was standing behind her. He stretched one arm forward, brushing her bare shoulder as he did, resting his fingers on the keys, pressing a few of the them.
“Why not?” he asked, his breath fanning over her cheek.
“Because I’m not sure what I want. Where I’m going. But I want to. I think that’s what the song really is. It’s longing.”
“What is it you long for, Noelle? Fame?”
“I thought so,” she whispered. “I’m not sure now.”
“Something else?” He put his hand on her shoulder and brushed her hair to one side, exposing her neck, his skin hot against hers.
“Maybe.” She sucked in a sharp breath.
“Something with a little bit more … immediate gratification?”
His lips were near her ear, brushing against her, his voice soft, husky, an invitation to sin. She wanted to accept. Regardless of the consequences, in that moment, she wanted to turn and press her mouth to his. To have another taste of the passion she’d been introduced to earlier.
But she didn’t think she could take that step. What if he pulled away? What if he didn’t want her? She wasn’t sure she could handle more rejection, even if it was only physical rejection.
He moved his hand over the back of her neck, the tips of his fingers gliding over her skin. She shivered, her nipples tightening, arousal trickling through her, thick and sweet like honey, making her ache for more.
She knew exactly what it was her body wanted. And she also knew that Ethan could give it to her. It was the other stuff, the heart-pounding, stomach-tightening emotion that frightened her.
The touch of his lips against the curve of her neck made the butterflies in her stomach disperse, letting desire take over. There was no place for fear, not when his touch made her feel so good. So warm.
He kissed her again, a featherlight touch on her shoulder that echoed all through her body. She leaned into him, against his hard body, his bare chest hot against her back. He gripped her shoulders, his hold keeping her from melting into a puddle and sliding down the piano bench.
He moved one hand to her shoulder and brushed the strap of her silky top aside.
“I just want to see,” he said, his voice tight. He moved her other strap aside and she felt her top fall, revealing her breasts. The only light in the room was the silver glow of the moon pouring through the window.
Ethan’s unsteady breathing, the slight tremble in his hand as he slid his fingertips down her arm, made her feel powerful, made her feel confident in a way she never had before.
“You’re more beautiful than I imagined. And I imagined you would be stunning.”
She tried to ignore the tightening in her throat, tried to focus only on the desire that was coursing through her. The physical. She didn’t want anything else. Didn’t need it. She just wanted him to touch her. She didn’t know what she wanted after that, wasn’t sure if she was ready for more, but if he would just touch her …
“I need to touch you.”
“Yes,” she breathed.
Permission seemed to
