Behind the Lyrics by Melissa Riddell
Chapter 20
Viktor Farrow
Disappointment overrode the bliss of having Angel wrapped around me when I turned onto the street leading to the house. If I have my way, we’ll ride across the state. The feel of her hands on me and her easy trust in my handling of the bike did something to me. How long had it been since anyone had trusted me so blindly?
Years. People learned not to expect too much from a junkie alcoholic, and they certainly never dared put their lives in my hands.
Yet here I sit with this captivating woman wrapping me in her scent and warmth.
I drove to the gate, entered the security code, and coasted into the garage. Once I shut off the motor, I tore the helmet from my head and lowered the kickstand.
Angel loosened her hold, and I held in a sigh. Whatever else I did tonight, maybe I could at least get her hands on me again.
The snap of her helmet strap releasing echoed in the humongous garage. “Do I need to get off first?”
“Well, that’s typically how I’d start the night.”
She smacked my shoulder again. “You know what I mean.” Her voice, light and playful, filled me with confidence.
“I know exactly what you meant, and my answer is yes either way.”
A soft giggle fluttered near my ear, and she used my upper arm for leverage as she lifted herself off the behemoth.
I tore myself off the iron horse, too, then grabbed the helmet from her hand and placed it on the seat with mine. “Come on. Let’s go sneak a bite to eat. I’m famished.”
“Sneak?” Her eyes widened as she looked around, probably taking in the array of shiny new vehicles, including the cat-piss smelling SUV courtesy of Marky. Little bugger. “Why do we have to sneak?”
Genuine alarm rounded her eyes, and I snorted. She was fucking adorable. “Poor choice of verbiage.” I wrestled the roses and candy from the bike, handed them to her then slipped my fingers into the crook of her arm. “I just mean I’m going to attempt to skate past my bandmates and whatever debaucheries or depravities they’re partaking in while we head to the kitchen.” A buffet or delicacies always awaited anyone who happened to wander into the area. Musicians kept weird hours, and it wouldn’t do to let us go hungry.
Her face cleared. “Oh, I see. So, this is where you’re staying while you record the new album?”
“Yep.” I tugged her along, delighted with the feel of her velvety flesh under my fingertips. The night, mixed with her clean, floral smell, intoxicated my lungs. An image of me burying myself inside her, licking every delectable inch of that lovely dark skin beat inside my brain.
Control yourself, idiot.
I stopped at the door and listened. As far as I could tell, the nightly party hovered around the pool, judging by the splashes and squeals of several girls. “Come on.” I took us to the kitchen, releasing her arm long enough to snatch several sacks from the fridge and a cold bottle of white wine.
Glancing around the granite countertops, I located clean glasses. “Would you grab one, please, Love?” I jutted my chin towards the counter.
She nodded as she slipped her fingers around a stem and lifted it in her free hand. “Now what?” she whispered. A sparkle of excitement shown in her eyes, as if this were a game she enjoyed.
“Now”—I wiggled my eyebrows—“I get you alone in my room and prepare to eat.”
Scarlet flushed her neck and climbed to her cheeks. “Um…” Her stare slid from mine to the red roses.
I stuck my tongue against my bottom lip and pushed, keeping my laughter inside. So. Goddamn. Precious. “Keep your knickers on, Angel, unless you decide to take me up on the offer.” Without waiting for a response, I turned and strode for the stairs, trusting she’d follow, and trying not to think about what kind of underwear she wore under those jeggings. Thongs? The dreaded boyfriend cut? Or something classy?
Concentrate, man. The plan was for me to seduce her, not the other way around.