Page 89 of Not Another Rockstar
August put his arm around the other woman, who giggled. Phoebe looked between them and wondered if they were having some silent conversation. August didn’t even need to say anything for women to swoon. Phoebe figured that he just didn’twant to be a third wheel with her and Axel as he and Nick followed the women away.
“And then there were two,” Axel said, racking the balls for a new game. “Ladies first.”
“Such a gentleman.” Phoebe pulled the pool cue back to strike, but he leaned over only inches away, stopping her. She glanced at him, wanting to be irritated, but his serious expression was adorable.
“You’ll get more power with your fingers in this position,” Axel said, adjusting her hand position.
She took the shot, and instead of the balls clustering in one spot like before, they shot around the table. She concealed her smile, not wanting to admit he’d helped.
“See, I won’t lead you wrong,” he said, and Phoebe watched his face light up as he moved around the table.
“Your turn,” she said.
He was winning, but seeing his tensed muscles through his shirt, she didn’t care. Before he took the shot, his eyes lingered on the wrap of her dress where the crossover exposed her cleavage. Messing with him, she leaned forward, and he missed the shot entirely. He clenched his jaw.
“You did that on purpose.” His dark eyes sent a rush of heat through her body.
“Maybe you shouldn’t be so easily distracted.” She straightened, and chalked the cue.
“You were wearing that dress the first night I saw you,” he whispered as she lined up the shot.
“Was I?” She tried to think back, but all she remembered was that they’d met at a show. “Refresh my memory?” Acting innocent, she bent over in front of him.
“A dangerous game you’re playing.” Axel whispered in her ear, brushing her hair from her neck as he pretended to adjust her grip again.
“Winner takes all.” She widened her stance and felt his hand brush her thigh; a gasp escaped her lips. “You were refreshing my memory?”
Phoebe loved the confidence he brought out in her.
Axel’s fingers gently caressing her thigh made her miss the final shot. She stood, needing to catch her breath as he explained, unfazed:
“Right, you were standing in the front row of our concert. It was the first time I saw you since I’d joined the band. You had bright pink hair and dried paint on your hands, and this soul-captivating smile as you danced and sang along to every song. I couldn’t take my eyes off you, and then I found out who you were, and it killed me that you were off-limits,” he told her, melting her heart.
“When I went backstage, you ignored me. You didn’t even introduce yourself,” she said, taking his hand. She wanted him alone, and his sly smirk told her he knew exactly what she wanted as they headed down a narrow hallway to an office.
Axel closed the door behind them. He rested his back against the closed office door, taking in the sight as she lifted her dress to the tops of her thighs.
“Because if I got too close, I was afraid everyone would see the truth.” His gaze darkened as he followed her to where she sat on the desk and stood between her legs.
“What was that?” Phoebe slipped her arms around his shoulders and arched her back as he rested his hands on her hips and pulled her against him. He brushed his lips against hers, teasing her mercilessly. Their tongues intertwined, silencing her moans as he deepened the kiss.
“That I wanted to make you mine.” His hands drifted to her inner thighs, the overwhelming pulse at her core. Phoebe sighed in delight as she felt him harden against her.
Kissing his neck, she moved her hands to the button of his black jeans, but he gripped her wrists and placed them firmly on the desk. His hungry eyes met hers, and she went still. He pulled the tie on her dress, exposing her lacy bra.
Phoebe’s breath caught as his demanding lips trailed down her neck to the swell of her breasts.
“Don’t stop,” she groaned as he started to pull away.
“You want me to bend you over this desk, but you’ll have to be quiet, because we wouldn’t want anyone to hear us,” he said, and Phoebe leaned over the desk teasingly.
He pulled her hips sharply against him, and she squealed at the rough sensation of his trousers against her bare skin.
“Be quiet, or I’ll stop.”
The sensation of his touch caused her to shift. She chewed her lip and nodded, then felt his lips on the back of her thighs. She rose on her tiptoes as he moved aside her lacy red underwear to taste her. A rough moan escaped her when she felt the sharp tear of her underwear.
“Not a sound,” he reminded her, and she nodded. She glanced to her side to see him lay the underwear beside her. “It’s a pity I can’t tear this dress to pieces. I think it would look excellent on the floor,” he said, and his fingers caressed her. “Good girl,” he rasped as she bit her lip, trying to stay silent.
