Try Me

Chapter 5

Gabe wasn’t sure what it was about this woman that had him so fired up. Yes, she was attractive, but that didn’t explain it. He knew innumerable attractive women. Maybe it was because she liked him despite him being a rock star and not because of it. Or maybe it was because she’d turned down Jacob—no one ever turned down Jacob. Or maybe it was because there was something naughty and wild just beneath her conventional exterior, and he very much wanted to unleash her inner vixen. Whatever it was, he was hooked. He never questioned his little head’s instincts. His dick had excellent taste.

He followed Melanie out of the stadium to a convertible, melon-orange Volkswagen Beetle wedged between two gargantuan SUVs in a parking garage.

“Cute,” he said when the she pressed her key fob and the Bug’s lights flashed. He’d hoped one of the gas guzzlers was hers. No such luck. Normally he wouldn’t be caught dead in such a feminine car, but he wanted to show her more than his tattoos. He had the pressing need to be alone with her. To figure out what made her so appealing. Yeah, that belly chain and navel piercing of hers had turned his thoughts thick with lust, but it was more than that.

“It’s Nikki’s. I should probably text her and let her know I took off without her. Or maybe I should let her worry about me for a change.” She paused to squint at him with assessing eyes. “Does she have a reason to be worried?”

“Only if she plans to see you before morning.”

“Just how many tattoos do you have? It shouldn’t take you all night to show me.”

She offered him a challenging smirk. It made him want to kiss the sass out of her.

“But it will take me that long to work you out of my system.”

Her breath caught. After a moment she closed her gaping mouth and squeezed her tight little body between the SUV and the Bug on the driver’s side of the car. “Are you hungry?” she asked as she inched open the door and sidled into the car. “I’m starving. I missed dinner so we could stand in line for two hours. There has to be an open restaurant around here somewhere.”

He took note of her rapid words. He hoped she didn’t freak out and leave him hanging. Well, actually, he was more hard than hanging. Did she have any idea what he had in mind? It had been a while since he’d had to work at seducing a woman. They tended to fall out of their pants and into his. Maybe he was off his game. She wanted to have dinner first? For real? He was wondering how she was still clothed.

Gabe squeezed into the car with her and closed the door. Folded into the small space, he felt he was in danger of kneeing himself in the eyeballs. “Does the thought of being alone with me make you nervous?”

“No,” she squeaked.

“Good. Then we’ll order room service,” he said, fiddling under the seat for a lever to give himself some room. He sighed in relief when the seat shifted and offered him a few extra inches for his legs.

“But—”

“You do realize I plan to fuck you, don’t you?” No sense in pretending this was something it wasn’t. “If you’re playing games with me—”

“I’m not playing games, Gabe. I plan to fuck you until you can’t move. I just thought we could get to know each other a little better first. I’ve never had a man seduce me this quickly. I feel kind of . . . um . . . slutty.” She whispered that last word as if it had never applied to her before.

Heat flooded his groin. Fuck, yeah. She did want him after all. He was used to women coming on to him, making their intentions clear, and being blunt. He just wasn’t used to women like Melanie doing so. Damn, his balls ached. There was no way in hell he’d make it through a polite dinner with her. He was perfectly fine with her feeling slutty. Especially because he didn’t think she let herself feel that way often. Convincing her to do something she wouldn’t normally do stroked his ego until an inferno of lust blazed inside him.

Melanie started the car while Gabe struggled to form coherent thoughts. They were pulling out of the parking garage before he managed to fire a rational synapse.

“Um, where to?” she asked.

He gave her the name of the hotel and she searched for it on the car’s navigation system. It began to spout directions in a robotic voice.

“You have until we get to the hotel to get to know me,” he said. “It isn’t far. You’d better get started.”

“How often do you do this kind of thing?”

“What kind of thing?”

“Have women you don’t know drive you to your hotel room?”

“Less often than you think.”

Her full lips pursed skeptically, she lifted an eyebrow at him, before returning her attention to the road. It was mostly deserted at this hour, which meant the short trip to the hotel would be especially quick. A good thing. If he caught the scent of her fruity shampoo one more time, he was going to unzip his pants and show her the effect she had on him, indecent exposure laws be damned.

“I usually take them to the tour bus,” he said, forcing his mind to keep up with the thread of their conversation. “It’s easier to get rid of them that way.”

She laughed. “At least you’re honest.”

“How often do you do this kind of thing?” he countered.

“Before or after I graduated college?”

There was a distinction? “After?”

“Not often.”

“Before?”

“Whenever I felt like it,” she said. “Which wasn’t often.”

“So why are you doing this now?”

“I figure I’m entitled to a little slutty fun every now and then.”

She turned her head to smile at him. She had a great smile. It made his heart swell in his chest. And other things swell in his pants.

“And I really want to see that tattoo on your hip.”

He didn’t understand why a tattoo on his hip was such a big deal to her. It wasn’t anything spectacular, just his astrological sign. “I think your idea of who I am and who I really am are entirely different things.”

“Duh. That’s why I wanted to get to know you first,” she said.

Maybe he was the one who was nervous. He didn’t know if she’d be impressed with the real him. Usually the rock star thing did all his work for him. Gabe ran his knuckles down her bare arm, and she shuddered. “And that’s why I’m in such a hurry to occupy you with other things.”

She glanced at him and asked, “So, do you have family?”

Well that topic definitely pulled the brakes on his libido. “Yeah. Doesn’t everyone?”

“I suppose most do. Are they huge fans of your music?”

He laughed. “Not especially. Hate isn’t a strong enough word to describe how they feel about my music. I had a strict, religious upbringing. My family is very conservative.”

“You don’t talk to your family then?”

“I didn’t say that. They don’t necessarily approve of how I live or the career I chose, but they love me. As long as I grow my hair out to cover the ink on my head before Thanksgiving, we get along just fine.” And while he mostly did whatever he wanted to do, he respected his parents enough not to flaunt his liberal attitudes in their home. As far as he was concerned, it was a fair compromise. His family’s comfort meant more to him than showing off his tattoos. He hadn’t discovered his wild side until he’d gone off to college. He didn’t have ink out of rebellion against his upbringing but because he’d legitimately liked all the designs enough to have them permanently etched on his skin. To him tattoos were art, not a statement.

Melanie pulled into the hotel drive and stopped the car near a waiting valet. Gabe tensed with anticipation.

“The ink looks good on you though,” she said, her eyes fixed on his scalp. “I’m not sure why.”

He knew exactly why. “Forbidden fruit.”

“So you think the reason I want you so bad is because my father would shoot you on sight?”

“That sounds about right,” he said. And he had no issue with exploiting her daddy issues.

“Well, seeing as he’d shoot any man I hooked up with before a wedding band strangled my finger, don’t think you’re so special.”

The door opened, and the valet offered Melanie a hand out of the car. She exchanged her keys for a valet ticket while Gabe mentally cursed himself for abandoning his manners and not being the one to open her door. When had he started sucking at impressing women? Around the time a sexy accountant had careened into his chest and didn’t even have the decency to be hot and bothered the instant he’d touched her.

“Charge that to my room,” Gabe said to the valet as he hurried around the car to claim Melanie’s elbow.

“Yes, Mr. Banner.”

Melanie managed to look impressed. “He knows you by name?”

“I’m a VIP,” he said, “it’s his job to kiss my ass.”

Unable to keep his hands to himself for another minute, Gabe draped an arm across Melanie’s lower back and drew her warmth against his side. She allowed him to lead her toward the grand entrance of the hotel, but apparently she was still in get-to-know-you mode.

“So if your parents were against you becoming a musician—”

“I didn’t say that. They were never against me becoming a musician. It’s the type of music I chose that they don’t appreciate. They wouldn’t have minded if I’d become a gospel singer.” He winked at her.

“So how’d you become a drummer? It’s not exactly a church choir instrument.”

“I was the percussion geek in marching band; I’m not talented enough to play a real instrument.”

“Are you making that up?” she asked as they entered the lobby through a revolving door. She didn’t even gawk at the opulence. She was too busy sticking her cute nose into his business. And he was batting zero with dazzling her.

“Why would I make up embarrassing shit? If I was going to lie, I’d make myself out to be cool and irresistible, don’t you think?”

She tilted her head, appraising him as if he were some column of numbers that didn’t add up. He wondered if her limited view of the world served her well in Kansas. She seemed to like putting everything in a neat little box. And he was pretty sure she was still desperately searching for the right box to store him in.

As it was well after midnight, the lobby was empty except for the desk clerk smiling to himself indulgently as he pretended not to watch them. The elevator stood waiting.

“Tell me something else that makes you less cool,” Melanie said.

“Gee, Mel, do you have all night? Don’t you know that most rock stars began life as outcasts who didn’t want to be weird but found a bunch of kindred outcasts to make music with? A few of us somehow manage to make a living off it. Most of us have to supplement our music habit by delivering pizzas.”

“But being an outcast makes you normal.”

He shook his head in confusion. “If you say so.”

“What were you like in high school?”

He groaned inwardly and considered making shit up. He’d been a walking disaster. “Braces.”

“That explains your perfect smile.”

She thought his smile was perfect? Maybe all those painful visits to the orthodontist had been worth it.

“What else?” she pressed.

“Tall and skinny.” Was she trying to talk herself out of sleeping with him or what?

She lifted the hem of his shirt to flash his belly. “Not an ounce of fat on those abs, but not skinny. Fit. And you are tall. I suppose that’s a benefit for a drummer.”

“I was so not attractive, Mel, I didn’t touch my first boob until I was twenty.”

“And how many boobs have you touched since?”

He grinned. “I don’t grope and tell.”

Inside the elevator, Gabe retrieved his room card from his wallet, glad that they’d checked in early and his belongings were already up in his room. He swiped the card over a panel to access the penthouse. The band had rented out the entire upper floor for the night. He had hoped something like that would turn Melanie’s head, yet she insisted on asking him to share secrets about his less than head-turning past.

As soon as the elevator door slid shut, she turned to face him. She rested both palms on his chest and gazed up at him with sultry, hazel eyes. He hadn’t noticed the blue and green flecks in them earlier. He opened his mouth to compliment her, and she interrupted him by saying, “Just tell me one more personal thing about yourself. I’m much more comfortable with Gabe than I am with Force.”

“Force equals mass times acceleration,” he said.

“Huh?”

“The reason they call me Force is not because I bang things hard—though I do. It’s because I planned to major in physics before I dropped out of college my sophomore year. I was going to become an engineer and invent things.” Actually, he invented things despite his lack of degree. That was something he was definitely keeping to himself, however. No one knew about his inventions. It was bad enough he’d shared the secret behind his nickname with her; only the band knew how he’d picked it up. So why was he telling Melanie? She had the strangest effect on him. He felt vulnerable. Exposed. She’d stripped away all of his cool. It wasn’t a feeling he was accustomed to, and he wasn’t sure he liked it.

She slapped him in the chest. “So that’s why I’m so attracted to you,” she said. “I knew it couldn’t be the famous musician thing.”

She raised up on tiptoe to kiss his neck. Every muscle in Gabe’s body went taut.

“Melanie?” he whispered.

Her warm breath tickled his neck. “I do love a man with brains.”

Brains that ceased to work when a certain sexy accountant suckled the pulse point in his throat. He didn’t put the geek in “band geek” anymore. He’d hated being that awkward, meek guy. He no longer entertained dreams of building mechanical hearts and artificial limbs. He was a rock star. Success hadn’t been handed to him on a bronze cymbal. He’d earned it. Melanie had better get used to the idea that the thing she was trying so hard to reject was a huge part of who he was.

Gabe reached over and pressed every button from the first to the tenth floor. The elevator jolted as it stopped on the next floor and then the door slid open.

Melanie jerked away, her gaze nervously darting to the empty corridor. No one was there. She stared up at him with wide eyes. “Do you think there’s something wrong with the elevator?”

“I pressed all the buttons.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t march anymore.”

The elevator doors slid shut and they started upward again.

Her eyebrows drew together and nose crinkled in confusion. Gabe moved his hands to her shoulders and slipped the spaghetti straps of her tank and her bra straps down her slender arms. He used the lightest of touches on her silky skin, watching for her reaction.

“What do you like?” he asked.

“Huh?”

“Do you like a gentle, easy touch?” He stroked her skin with a feather-light caress and then curled his fingers to apply more pressure as he moved his hands along the back of her shoulders. “Or something rougher?”

Eyes wide, she shook her head. “I don’t know.”

The elevator stopped, and the doors slid open again.

He slid his hands to her breasts and freed them from her bra.

“Wait,” she gasped. “Someone might . . . ”

He cupped one perfect mound of flesh and gently stroked her hardened nipple with his thumb. “Gentle.”

When no one joined them on the elevator, Melanie released a soft sigh, and her eyelids fluttered closed.

Gabe squeezed her other breast and pinched her nipple between his thumb and forefinger, rubbing the straining tip with an increasing pressure. “Rough.”

“Oh!”

As soon as the elevator doors closed again, he leaned forward and drew his tongue over her pretty pink nipple. “Gentle,” he said, blowing a slow breath over her puckered flesh before drawing it into his mouth and sucking with tender care.

Her fingers clung to his scalp. He still couldn’t tell what she preferred; she seemed to enjoy both. He released her breast with a soft sucking sound and turned his attention to the other one. “Rough.” He nipped her reddened nipple and then sucked it into his mouth, flicking his tongue over the hard tip. He scraped her flesh with the edge of his teeth.

“Gabe!”

The elevator doors opened again. This time she didn’t notice. Gabe smiled to himself. That’s better.

He drew away and waited for her to open her eyes before he cupped her pussy through her jeans. When the heat coming off it registered in his addled thoughts, his cock began to throb in anticipation. He stared into her beautiful eyes as he slid his fingers between her legs and pressed the heel of his hand against her mound. He rubbed his palm against her, stimulating her clit with just enough pressure to remind her that it was there.

“Gentle?”

The doors shut again, and the elevator carried them closer to their destination.

“Can I have both?” she asked breathlessly.

He grinned and backed her into the wall. He grabbed her ass and pressed his cock against her mound, grinding with hard, rigorous thrusts of his hips. “Or rough?”

She clung to him, rubbing her heat against his throbbing cock. If she’d been wearing a skirt, he would have surged into her body right then. He could almost feel her slick heat engulfing him, imagine her gripping him as she clenched with release. Almost.

“Oh God, Gabe, fuck me,” she groaned.

His balls tightened with excitement. Drunk with desire, he rubbed his open mouth over her throat. “Did you decide what you want, Melanie?”

“Yes. You. I want you.”

He gave the black lens of the surveillance camera a long hard stare and then bit his lower lip considering what it would mean for her if he went with his instincts and gave her what she wanted right there. Tempting as she was, she deserved better. He could wait. A couple minutes. Max. His gaze shifted to her eyes. “I like a woman who knows what she wants.”

He stepped away and noted they still had five floor stops before they reached the very top, which promised him heaven. Melanie gawked at him for a moment and then struggled to cover her exquisite breasts before the elevator doors opened again. He nonchalantly pressed the button labeled “close doors” trying to hide his eagerness, trying to pretend he was in control and had maintained his cool.

Yes, he liked a woman who knew what she wanted. He also liked to leave a woman flustered and disoriented, craving his body the way an addict craves her next hit. He stole a glance at Melanie noting she was flushed, disheveled, and glowing with a delicate sheen of perspiration. Gabe ducked his head to hide a self-satisfied grin and focused his attention on his fingernails to curtail his urge to gloat. Yeah, mission accomplished.