Rock & Roll Nights: The Lila and Rivers Edit

5. Lila

5

LILA

T his. Was. Insane.

I was walking out of my room in a hotel in Bardstown, drunk and barely able to stand up on my own, and I’d left my best friend glowering behind me. It had to be past midnight, and we were on the road with Olivia Johns and Connor Wheating. We were here to try to win a contract.

And instead of focusing on that or our game plan, I was following a guy back to his room, my hand caught in the much larger fingers of Rivers Shine.

I couldn’t stop singing that new song about being love drunk in my head.

Like I said, insane. Completely, utterly crazy.

And yet…

I wasn’t exactly turning around and running back to my room, where I was sure Anna was up and waiting for me.

I stifled a smile at the thought and looked up just in time to see Rivers turning to me, the corner of his mouth caught up in a shy smile as he looked from me to the door I’d just closed.

“I don’t think your friend’s very happy with me.”

I half-glanced back at the door as well, then shrugged. “She doesn’t not like you. She’s just spent her whole life trying to take care of me and keep me out of trouble. She doesn’t like it when she fails.”

When I turned back around, he was a whole lot closer. Close enough that I could feel the heat coming off him. Smell the deep, musky scent of his cologne. Funny, I hadn’t noticed that before, but now it was all I could smell. It engulfed me, his warmth wrapping around me like some sort of blanket, and when I looked up to meet his eyes…

God, this wasn’t just an insane idea, it was a bad idea with a capital B. A Very Bad Idea. Worse than insane.

I must have lost my fucking mind.

I was standing in a dimly lit hotel hallway in the middle of Kentucky with Rivers Shine, and he was looking at me like he wanted to kiss me. Or dip me in chocolate and eat me.

Fuck, maybe he was going to kidnap me.

“What?” I asked, frustrated when my voice came out as nothing more than a breath.

He shook his head like he’d just realized what he was doing and gave me a crooked grin. “Nothing. Just wondering if you’re suddenly going to regret coming out with me and run back to Anna.”

I scoffed, thankful for his light tone and the way it had dissipated the tension of a moment earlier. “Are you kidding? That would mean letting her win, and I almost never do that.”

His grin got bigger. “Okay, sunshine girl. I have half a bottle of whiskey left. Do you drink whiskey?”

I leaned in and gave him my most sarcastic look. “Rivers, I grew up in Nashville. What the hell do you think?”

He didn’t answer. He just laughed loudly and turned, towing me toward his room like my answer was the only thing he’d needed to hear.

And God help me, I followed him, my heart racing and an ache starting low in my belly at the thought that I was about to find myself in the room of the tall, dark, heavily tattooed rock star I’d had a crush on since I was about fourteen.

* * *

Rivers held his glass up in a toast, and I clinked mine softly against his, confused.

“What are we toasting?”

“We’re not toasting,” he said. “We’re starting a drinking game.”

“Oh, obviously. Why didn’t I think of that? What’s the game?”

“The game is, tell me something you’ve never told anyone else. And then take a drink.”

I frowned and cocked my head a bit. “That doesn’t sound like a drinking game. That sounds like us telling each other secrets while drinking together.”

He just shrugged. “Could be. Does that mean you don’t want to play?”

Oh, this was going to be fun. I wasn’t sure whether he was being serious every time he pretended to think I might turn back, but if he actually thought that…

Well, the possibilities were endless, weren’t they? Because I might look like the goodiest good girl ever born, and I might have spent my life surrounded by people who tried their best to take care of me. I might like to see the sunny side of life.

But that didn’t mean I didn’t know how to walk in the shadows when I needed to.

I threw the whiskey back in one swallow and lifted an eyebrow in his general direction. “You’re on, cowboy. Who starts?”

The shock on his face was worth the entire price of entry. He’d either expected me to take some small, lady-like sip or refuse to drink at all. And I was guessing he didn’t think I had any secrets to tell.

Okay, so he was sort of right about that last thing. But that didn’t mean I was going to chicken out.

“Um, looks like you’ve already started,” he stuttered.

“Okay, I drank. You tell me a secret.”

“Wait, that’s not how it works,” he protested.

“I’m changing the rules. Does that mean you don’t want to play?”

He laughed again, and it was richer and truer than it had been earlier. Like this might be closer to a real laugh. The kind he used with his close friends, or maybe only when he was alone. I wanted to hear more of that. I wanted to make him laugh all night. Put my finger to that wrinkle between his eyebrows and smooth it away.

Damn my tendency to try to save broken things.

“A secret,” I prompted. “Spill.”

At that, the smile dropped away and he grew more serious. Like he was either trying to think of a secret… or trying to figure out which one to spend this early in our game. A minute passed, and then two, and I was just starting to think he was going to chicken out when he suddenly opened his mouth.

“I’ve been touring since I was fourteen, and I’ve been playing guitar since I was ten.”

I snorted. “That hardly counts. That’s freely available information for anyone who’s ever done research on you.”

“And yet it’s the only thing you’re getting.” He paused, then looked suddenly smug. “Wait, does that mean you’ve done research on me?”

“That would be a secret. And you haven’t had a drink yet.”

With a narrowing of his eyes, he poured his own shot and threw it back. “There. I’ve had a drink. Now spill. Have you done research on me?”

I felt the flush crawling up my neck at that—stupid fair skin—but pushed it down. “I have.”

He looked entirely too pleased about this, like I’d just given him the best news he’d ever heard. “How much research?”

Reaching out, I grabbed the bottle and poured myself another drink. “Don’t be impatient, Rivers. You already got one secret. Now it’s your turn to give me something.” I sipped the drink more slowly this time, watching him as I did, and then put my glass down. “Now spill.”

* * *

For the first few rounds, our secrets were pretty tame. I had sisters who I loved to distraction. He’d tried playing bass for a long time but just couldn’t get it done. I secretly wanted to play in New York at some point and had once thought about traveling to LA to try to make it in Hollywood.

At that, though, he put his glass down very slowly and stared at me like he was trying to see right into my soul, and things started feeling a whole lot more serious. The air around us got thick with something I didn’t understand, and my stomach felt like it was trying to reach up and crawl out of my throat.

“What?” I whispered. “Is that so hard to believe?”

“That’s a question, right?” he answered, his voice husky. “That means you have to drink for an answer.”

“Wait, that’s not how?—”

His hand shot out and covered my mouth. “I’m changing the rules. You going to back out?”

I froze, his hand burning my skin where it touched me, and shook my head slowly. When his hand dropped, I took the glass he’d poured for me, my hand shaking, and lifted it to my lips. One sip. Two sips. Our gazes holding onto each other like we were drowning and saving each other at the same time.

“Now you can ask.”

I cleared my throat and tried very hard to keep my voice steady. “Is it so hard to believe I’d want to go to LA and try to get into the movies?”

“No,” he said. “I think you’d be brilliant. You’re beautiful enough for it. And you’ve got a smile they would kill for there.”

That dropping/climbing feeling in my stomach increased by about one hundred. “You think I’m beautiful?”

“I think you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” he whispered. “And I’m positive that I’ve never said that to any girl before. I’ve never even thought that about a girl before.”

I was going to melt. Or explode. Or have a stroke.

And if I died from a stroke right now, it would be completely worth it.

“Oh please. I bet you say that to all the girls. It’s probably a line from one of your songs.”

“It’s not. I don’t write love songs. I don’t have the emotions for it. I didn’t even think I had?—”

He stopped himself, his teeth pulling at his lip and his eyes torn. Something moved behind them, and I wondered if he was going to change his mind. Tell me I wasn’t actually beautiful. Or interesting or funny or sunshiny.

Instead, he moved forward, took my face in his hands, and pressed his lips to mine, claiming me like I was the most precious thing in the world. Like he couldn’t go one more second without a taste of me, the kiss soft and dreamy and utterly possessive. A question and an answer and everything in between.

I opened my mouth in a gasp, and he slid his tongue between my lips like he’d been planning it, and in that moment, I forgot everything. I forgot Anna in the other room and the fact that we’d driven hours to follow a tour, like groupies who had nothing better to do. The contract flew right out of my mind.

All I could feel, all I could think of, was Rivers Shine and the sensation of his hands on my skin and his lips on mine, the energy humming between us like we were magnets that couldn’t do anything other than come together. And God help me, I responded. I grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him toward me, groaning at the contact, and suddenly the kiss turned frantic, all tongues and teeth and growling need. His hands wrapped around the back of my head and tangled in my hair, pulling it and forcing my face up to take him even deeper.

And holy shit, if I’d thought my heart was going to explode before, I hadn’t had one single clue. Rivers was practically boiling, his hands supporting my head as he pushed against me, and I was flying, so caught up in the moment that I didn’t even remember whether we were still earthbound.

When he slid his hands underneath my legs and stood, lifting me up with him, I gasped and wrapped my arms around his neck. He chuckled into my mouth but didn’t stop kissing me, though his mouth was now curved in a smile that I thought must be both sly and self-satisfied.

Not that I was pulling back to look.

He moved quickly to the bed and laid me down on it, then drew back to look at me for a moment. His eyes were dark and fathomless, his lips relaxed and full, and I put a finger to them.

“My first thought when I saw you was that you must be an amazing kisser,” I said.

And then I wanted to slap myself for saying something so stupid. Who the fuck gets in bed with Rivers Shine and tells him that she thought about kissing him the first time she saw him?

Instead of laughing at me, though, he licked his lower lip, then ducked his head and gave me a slow, searching kiss. “And?” he whispered against my lips. “Were you right?”

I pushed up off the bed and threw caution to the wind. “I’m not sure. Maybe you better do it some more so I can decide.”

Another deep, dark chuckle from him sent all of my blood rushing right to the spot between my legs, and he brushed his lips against mine again. “Anything else you want me to try? Just for the sake of research, of course.”

His hand traveled from my face down my neck, between my breasts, to rest lightly on my stomach, and I started to breathe more quickly.

“Yes,” I whispered. “Just for research. Of course.”

“Of course,” he whispered.

And without asking, he slid his hand lower. Under the waistband of my jeans and then under the cotton of my panties. Lower and then lower again as my legs dropped open and my body bowed up, acting of its own free will.

When he found the wetness between my legs, I cried out, but he dove down and claimed my mouth again, swallowing my cry. And then we were done being slow or shy or hesitant. His fingers curled against me, making me buck for him, and I moaned and tried desperately to get out of my jeans. His hand left me for a moment, and seconds later he was jerking my jeans down over my legs, throwing them to the side, and giving me a quick, dark look before stripping me of my panties as well.

I should have felt shy. I should have second-guessed what I was doing. But I was burning with need for him by this time and too far gone to let my brain hold any sway.

He stood up and stripped off his shirt, revealing a body so full of artwork that I couldn’t take it all in. Every inch of his skin was covered with color. Swirls and lines and illustrations that must map out the path of his life, and that I would have asked about except now definitely wasn’t the time.

He got his pants down, bending to pull them from his ankles, and when he stood, his cock at attention and bumping against his belly, I let out a sound I was sure I’d never made before.

“What?” he asked.

“You’re beautiful,” I murmured.

That half-smile that I was starting to really like colored his mouth and he crawled back into bed with me, pausing only to remove my shirt before he bent to kiss my neck, just under my ear. “That’s my line,” he whispered.

“Doesn’t mean I can’t use it,” I murmured back. “Are you going to spend the rest of the night talking, or are you actually going to do follow through on this research idea?”

I felt his lips smile against my skin and his knee moved between my legs, spreading them apart and making room for him. He was on me before I could take a breath, the head of his cock nudging against me and my wrists wrapped in one of his hands.

“Are you complaining?” he asked. “You going to run?”

I looked up into his gorgeous, sad eyes and shook my head. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Instead of answering, he spread me apart a little more, kissed me, and then pushed inside of me.

And then he paused, both of us growing still and silent as pleasure flooded the world. When he looked down and caught my gaze, his eyes were blazing. Bright and dark at the same time, and so intense that I felt like I was being burned.

I forgot that thought when he started to move, his strokes long and slow. He was cradling me, holding me as if I was the most precious thing in the world. Like he thought he might break me if he went too hard.

He was wrong. I arched off the bed and wrapped my legs around him, lifting my hips to take more of him. Begging him with my body to go deeper. Harder. Longer. I was half-drunk and so turned on I could barely see. I didn’t want slow and sweet.

I didn’t want hesitation.

“Rivers.” His name was nothing more than a breath on my lips. I didn’t have the bandwidth to give him more than one word. Not right now, when my body was starting to clench around him, pulling him deeper and deeper as the pressure built. Begging him to go harder. Faster.

“Yes, Sunshine Girl?” he murmured.

God, he wanted words. Right now.

And of course he did, a small voice inside me said sharply. He probably never did anything the easy way.

“Please.”

One more word. One more whisper. I prayed he’d understand what I was asking, because I didn’t think I could manage more than that.

I opened my eyes to see that smirk turning up the corner of his mouth again. Only this time it wasn’t sweet.

And it damn sure wasn’t shy.

He lifted my hands above my head, wrapped my wrists in his large fingers, and dropped his mouth to my ear, taking it roughly in his teeth and biting down. Pain shot through me at the nip, the fire of it zinging down my belly and right to my clit, and I bucked.

“God, please,” I groaned.

“You sure?” The question was both a threat and a promise, and I bucked again.

I was desperate. His pace was still frustratingly slow, teasing me as he slid in and out, and I felt like I was going to lose my mind. I was walking a tightrope between pleasure and pain.

I wanted that answer.

“Yes.”

He reared back to look at me, gave me a slight smile, and then pulled back, tightened his grip on my wrists, and slammed into me.

I cried out in response, stars blooming around me at the sudden pleasure. And this time, he didn’t shut me up. He was too busy riding me as if I was the thing he’d been waiting for his entire life.