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“I’m sorry, Belle.” Benji hugged her backstage. The techno-rock blaring from the main hall rang in his ears. Heat slicked his nape. Thankfully, he’d already dropped his coat at the coat-check counter. People laughed and chatted all around him, but the world slowed and noise dimmed as Belle snuggled closer.
“It’s okay. I’m disappointed but happy for June. She deserved to win.”
Several musicians and fans congratulated the bubbly, teary-eyed winner while other contestants and more fans hung out in large groups.
“Maybe, but at least you’re gracious about it.” He nodded at Trista.
The blonde woman cursed and stomped her feet in a shadowy corner. Her entourage hugged her and patted her back as they shot nasty looks at the other competitors.
Belle pulled back and shook her head. “That’s just sad.”
He crossed his arms over his chest. “The judges are idiots.”
A man chuckled from behind him.
Benji turned and faced Simon Verdell, a music producer for Dowsey Records. “Hey, Simon. I hoped to run into you.” He offered his hand.
“Likewise, and I agree—my co-judges are idiots.” Simon shook it and laughed again. He turned his smile on Belle as she gaped. “I wanted you to win, Ms. Hamlin. You have a great style and amazing vocals, completely different from everyone else.”
Her fallen mouth snapped shut. “Wow. Thank you, sir.”
“Here’s my card. I’d love to talk with you about your music and what you want from your career. How many songs do you have ready to record?”
Her hand trembled as she accepted the crisp white business card. “I—um—well, I have eight songs currently unrecorded. I have ten more already on a CD I produced myself.”
“I’m surprised I haven’t heard your name before now. Call my assistant on Monday if it’s good for you. She’ll set up a lunch date for us later in the week.”
“Monday’s great. Thanks a lot.”
“Sure. Well, I better congratulate the winner.” He grasped Belle’s hand, nodded back at Benji, and walked away.
“Oh my God. How do you know Simon Verdell? I’d kill to sign with Dowsey Records.”
“You got your chance, and no one had to die.” Benji tapped the card as she grasped her heaving chest. “Simon’s a customer at the garage. I never thought to mention him until I found out Dowsey co-hosted the event.”
“And I interrupted when you tried back in the truck.” Belle bit her lip. “No, it’s good. I’m happy you didn’t tell me. I’d much rather make it on my own than ask my boyfriend to put a bug in Simon’s ear.” Tears welled in her eyes, but a laugh escaped her. “This night couldn’t have gone better unless I’d won the prize money. You want some muffins? I could eat more. There’s coffee too.” She nodded toward the buffet as she slid the card into her jeans pocket.
A crinkled, folded sheet of paper fell out.
Benji grabbed it as panic widened her eyes.
“Give it to me. It’s mine.”
“I gathered that since it fell from your pocket.” He unfolded the paper and seized up. Heat seared his face. “What the hell? Is this a death threat?”
Belle plucked it from his grasp and stuffed it back in her jeans. “No, it’s a warning not to perform.” She stepped back, nearly bumping into an employee.
He grabbed her guitar case and pulled her toward the far wall for a modicum of privacy.
“Someone dropped it off at my apartment. I confronted Trista, but she denied trying to scare me off. I believe her. Besides, I didn’t win. No harm done.”
“You have a possible deal. You did win. Look around you. Who knows how many people saw or overheard us with Simon?”
“Okay. Fine. I’m sorry. This looks bad. Don’t ruin my good mood, all right? We can talk more about this tomorrow.”
“With the pictures and your car, you should’ve told me about this immediately.” Fear coursed like sludge through his veins. Why did this shit keep happening? “I need you, babe. I’ll always take care of you. Don’t you understand?”
“Of course I do. Come with me.” She took her case from him and clutched his hand. They headed down a hallway that reached further into the venue. After she rattled three locked doorknobs, she finally pushed open a door to a brightly lit room. She turned a dial on the wall, dimming the embossed ceiling lights.
Well, damn. Those two red-leather sofas and matching pair of armchairs had probably seen a lot of action. The coffee table too. Hopefully, someone had cleaned them. His nose twitched. Some flowery scent filled the air but couldn’t mask the stench of club odors clinging to his clothes. Band posters featuring groups he’d never heard of decorated the deep-purple walls.
“Are we in a hook-up room?”
“Huh?” She locked the door behind them and dropped her case on a sofa.
“A place where musicians screw their groupies and get high.”
“You got it, but why don’t we just screw and leave the drugs to someone else?” She teased her fingers down his shirt. “Unless you’re not into sex in public places?”
“Oh, I’m into it. I want you to scream your head off in here.”
She laughed and stripped off her overshirt and blouse. Her black bra hugged her breasts, and her baby bump hung over the hem of her jeans. A frown crossed her face.
“What’s wrong?”
“We shouldn’t do this. My belly keeps getting bigger, but I want to live and act as I used to. I’m going to be a mom. I can’t take my boyfriend to a sleazy backroom for sex. It’s wrong.”
“No, it’s not.” Benji clasped his hands over hers on her stomach. “You’re a mom, but also a woman. You have needs, and so do I. We shouldn’t hang up our wild cards and drive a minivan from now on.” He feathered his lips across the curve of her neck, sniffing her decadent aroma of spice and woman. Hell, yes. “As your boyfriend, as the father of your child, it’s my job to provide, but you need me more than the baby does right now. So we’ll have sex back here, and we’ll enjoy it.”
“I love when you get bossy.”
He leaned back and grinned. “It’s about time you admit it.”
“Don’t tell anyone. It might hurt my image.” She blushed and lightly pinched his arm.
“We can’t have that.” Blood rushed to his groin. Her softly rounded stomach brushed his hard abdomen—when would the baby kick hard enough for him to feel it?—and he stroked his fingertips around her belly button. “Where do you want it, Belle? Sofa, chair, wall, or floor?”
“Chair. I want to straddle you.”
Oh, God. Benji dropped to his knees, unzipped her boots, and pulled her foot from each one as she braced her hands on his shoulders. He tugged off her socks and rose to his full height.
She stared up at him with eyelids at half-mast and licked her lips.
Damn, she could do wicked things with that pretty pink tongue. “Strip for me.” He yanked off his dress shirt, fluffed his undershirt, and claimed an overstuffed armchair. Oh, fuck. His heavy shaft pressed on the zipper, so he unfastened his jeans and rubbed the aching organ.
“Seriously, Benji? As you sit like a king? Not happening.”
“Do it. Strip.”
Belle braced her hands on her hips as a debate of feminine pride sparked in her eyes.
“Here’s your prize, babe. Come get it.” He pumped his cock. He needed to control this—to feel her close and shield her from harm—but how could he protect her beyond their sex games?
“My prize, huh?” She tossed aside her bra and pushed down her jeans and black silk panties. Her full breasts overflowed her palms as she tweaked her hard nipples.
“Straddle me.” He groaned as she climbed onto his lap and kissed him. A hint of bananas teased her breath and revved his taste buds. He gripped her waist, squeezed a little hard, and slid his shaft through her moist folds. Spots danced behind his eyes.
“Yes!” She impaled herself with a slow, deep push. Her moan echoed off the walls. She flung her head back and shoved her breasts against his face.
Fuck, yeah. He claimed her red-ripened nipple and bucked his hips.
“Benji!” She clutched his shoulders and gyrated.
“You’re incredible.” He licked the swollen nub and thrust deeper into heaven. Her breathy pants rocketed through him as her gorgeous bouncing breasts slapped his face.
She gasped, twisting, and ground harder on his crotch. “Oh, God.” She clenched her thighs around him and whimpered. Sweat aided the slide of her body on his.
Pleasure whipped through him. Fireworks danced in his vision. No. Not yet. He slammed his fist on the armrest and bit his tongue, staving off his release. As she shook her head, her flying hair clung to her flushed skin and raised goosebumps across his with each tantalizing swipe. Moisture flooded his cock. He plowed faster, deeper, stretching her.
“Benji, I—” she cried out and dug her fingers into his sweat-damp shirt.
He roared, his swift, mind-numbing orgasm tearing through his testicles and shaft. Hot jets of semen shot like cannon fire and slicked her insides. He kept thrusting until exhaustion leadened his muscles, and he collapsed, panting for air. Had the temperature in the room skyrocketed, or was that his body heat?
“Jesus.” She rested her forehead on his shoulder. “Were you trying to prove something?”
“Hell, yes. You’re mine, Belle.”
“I’m yours.” The light gleamed in her eyes as she leaned up and rolled her hips, draining every drop from his shaft. “And you’re mine. My man.”
His semi-erect cock stiffened. If she weren’t careful, she’d stroke his soldier back to attention for another tour of duty. No—privilege. Making love to her was a goddamn privilege.
Get your head out of the gutter, man. Benji gritted his teeth and grasped her waist, steadying her. “You should’ve told me about the letter.”
She stilled. “I didn’t want to upset you.”
“Secrets are a surefire way to ruin this relationship.” He cupped her warm, pink cheek. “I will never leave you, but we gotta have trust. Full honesty. You shouldn’t have to deal with stress or bullshit, and you shouldn’t put it on the baby. Give it to me.”
“I can take care of myself.”
“That’s not the point.” The thin leash on his temper popped a thread. He swallowed hard, soothing his rough voice. “You’re my girlfriend. I feel like shit every damn time something horrible happens to you. Why won’t you accept me? I need to take care of you.”
“I do accept you, but I worry about you too. I don’t want you in danger because of my problems.”
“Our problems. We’re dealing with it together.”
She shifted sideways and settled back on his lap, trapping the shaft between her stomach and his abdomen.
Losing her heat slapped like a cold wind. He gripped her waist. “Marry me?”
Her eyes widened. “You promised—”
“Not to mention marriage again for a while. Guess what? It’s been a while.”
She rubbed her nose. “I bet I have raccoon eyes.”
“Yeah, but you’re still a knockout.” His heart lurched as tears swam in her black-smeared eyes. He sighed. What should he do? Keep his mouth shut so he wouldn’t upset her? Speak his thoughts and risk alienating her? He stroked a lock of her tousled hair. “What’s on your mind?”
“I-I can’t tell you. Let me show you.”
Benji frowned as she dropped to her knees and pumped his cock with her warm hand. Air lodged in his lungs. He thrust his head back and cursed as Belle clamped her mouth on the rigid, throbbing member. Her devilish tongue flicked the underside and teased the mushroomed head.
“Shit. I love when you torture me.” He gripped her silken hair as she sucked him into her hot mouth. Lust zinged through him like bolts of lightning. His taut ball sac burned as she stroked it. I love you, Belle. If only he could tell her, but she’d probably run for the hills.
“Deeper, babe. Take every inch.” The high-pitched moans reverberating up her throat struck his manhood with the strength of a gale-force wind. Fuck! That mouth of hers deserved a medal. As her lips loosened, he pushed farther into her heat. Her throat constricted around him. His cannon loaded another shot. Not yet. He pulled her head up. “Enough. It’s too fast.”
She whined and clutched his hips.
The naughty, desperate gleam in her eyes undid him. He loosened his grip on her hair. Screw it. She owned him. Every muscle in his body froze as she bobbed her head back on his cock. His heart pounded harder. Goosebumps marred his arms. Aw, hell. Pleasure ripped through him as stars flashed in his vision. He shouted at the top of his lungs as his hot, sticky seed shot into her mouth.
She fell back on her haunches and blinked at him with wide, hazy eyes.
“You need to do that more often.” He rubbed his arm across his face.
“Agreed.” Belle wiped her chin, licked her finger clean, and climbed back onto his lap.
Benji hugged her to him. “You wore me out. I wish we could sleep here.”
“Me, too, but the bouncers bang on the doors and tell people to leave right before closing. At least they do at the other clubs I’ve been to.”
He stiffened. Was this not special to her? Had she gotten other men off in backrooms? He flattened his hand on her spine. “Sounds like you’ve had experience.”
She sat up and flushed scarlet. “I’ve been performing since college. Back then, I indulged in after-parties, but the scene grew old. I wanted respect as a serious musician, but if I’d continued to sleep around like a groupie or one of the men, my career would’ve swirled down the toilet before it ever got started.” Fine creases branched from her eyes. “Or my circle would’ve labeled me a tramp as they did Trista.”
Never. She deserved better than that.
“I hate double standards.” Belle crossed her arms over her chest. “Male rockers can publicly whore around and still get respect, but us lady musicians have to keep our one-night stands behind closed doors.”
“It’s not fair, but I don’t like the idea of you in rooms like this with people who don’t appreciate you.” He gently pulled her arms down. A dusky rose color set her nipples and areolas ablaze. “Don’t hide from me.” Her fine pair of tits had grown over the past few weeks with slight stretch marks and little blue veins now visible beneath the surface to show for it.
“I’m not hiding.” She huffed as he lifted his eyebrow. “Fine. Maybe I am. But you’re looking at me like what we just did meant nothing to me.”
Shit. Did he wear his frustration on his face?
“You have nothing to worry about.” She traced his clenching jaw and slid her arm back over her breasts. “The sex wasn’t good enough for me to stuff my emotions into a box and go with the flow. Are you going to let my past hang over us?”
“Of course not.” The vise squeezing his heart eased. God, he was a fool. How dare he get upset when he’d indulged in one-night stands too? “I don’t care what you did back in the day. It’s over and done with.”
“I feel the same about you.”
Good. He very well couldn’t claim sainthood. Benji splayed his hand on her stomach. “Simon couldn’t have missed it, but you gotta tell him you’re pregnant. The baby must come first.”
“Right. I hope he doesn’t freak out and refuse to offer me a contract because of it.”
“He’s not normally a jackass, but who knows what he’s like in work mode.”
She brushed his lips with a kiss. “We should clean up, and I’ll try to fix my makeup. Shea, Mia, and Chanel will probably organize a search party if I don’t show up soon.”
“They were peeved that you gave me a backstage pass and not them. Chanel called it a betrayal of the friendship code or something like that.”
Belle chuckled. “I bet she did. Other than the girls, who else came?”
“Ryan and Mason. Jim and Calista, too, but I’m surprised they showed.”
“I’m not. Cali got really excited when I told them about the competition. Jim wouldn’t have been able to keep her home unless he hog-tied her to the bed.”
Belle had treated Calista to lunch, and they’d gotten along so well they corralled their men into a double date. Belle and Jim’s easy friendship rankled like a burr up his ass, but Calista had taken the high road. Benji did, as well.
She clicked her tongue. “I’m surprised about Mason, though. Isn’t he violating his parole terms by being here?”
“The Blue Magick sells music as its main product, not booze—or so Mason pointed out. Jim claimed the venue borders on a gray area but would likely be okay.”
“He’s still walking a fine, stupid line.”
“Yep.” If Mason fucked up and landed back in prison, Alan would lose his shit. How could Benji help him cope? They were as close as brothers, but he could never take the place of Alan’s flesh and blood. He rubbed his nape. “Shea wants you to introduce her to the guy who performed after you. She was swooning big time.”
“Trevor?” She tsked, shaking her head. “Poor Shea. She’s always into the troubled guys. She’s had a crush on Chanel’s jackass brother for years, but maybe she’s finally over him.”
“You know Trevor well?”
“Yeah, he’s a friend, but he has a bit of a temper.”
Great. She’d probably pressure Benji into another double date, but he wished Shea the best. As he did Meghan. Unlike Mason, his sister hadn’t crawled out of her self-dug pit and made a better life for herself. She could be dead by now for all he knew. If the cops found her body, would they notify him as next of kin? Jesus. Better not think about it.
“What’s on your mind?” Belle tunneled her fingers through his hair.
“Parroting my words, huh?” He nuzzled her temple with his nose and teased his hands up her sides. “I can’t tell you. Let me show you.”
“No, no. Don’t eat me.” Belle scrambled to her feet and rushed across the room with her ass jiggling and breasts swaying. She held up her hands. “Stay back, you sex devil.”
“Sex devil? I like that.” Benji skirted the table and backed her into a corner. The words on his tongue died. He couldn’t say he loved her. She had to talk with Simon and straighten out her career first.
“Benji? You still here?” Belle snapped her fingers in front of his face.
He blinked and pulled her into his arms for a kiss. “Let’s go dancing.”
“All right, but I need to push Trevor into Shea’s limelight first. When we’re back home, I want you to scrub me down in the shower.”
He arched his brow. She referred to his place as hers.
What he wouldn’t do to make that a reality.