Page 85 of Axe-ing for Trouble
“You tired?”
I shook my head. “A couple more songs?” I was being greedy, but I wanted to experience this for a bit longer.
With a nod, he picked up his guitar. He rolled his shoulders, instantly shifting back into sexy rock star Jude, and strummed. “I think this may be one of your favorites,” he said.
It took five seconds for me to recognize the song. “Everlong.”
Books and movies made swooning seem like this feminine, delicate experience. But when I swooned at the soul and grit that rivaled Dave Grohl, my consciousness drifted from my body. When it returned, I was reduced to nothing but need.
He stood, his fingers moving deftly, his voice intense and his forearm muscles contracting distractingly.
I couldn’t feel my fingertips, and my brain was floaty and hazy, my body buzzing.
There was no escaping this. I was gone for this man, despite all the reasons I shouldn’t be. No logical argument or reasonable set of facts would change the chemistry of my brain. It screamed at me to grab on to him and never let go.
When the music ended, all I could do was stare.
“How did you know?” It came out as a squeak.
“The first time you came into the dojo, you wore a Foo Fighters shirt.” He shrugged. “And ‘Everlong’ is one of the best love songs ever written. So I guessed. You’re not the sappy type, so a hard rock ballad is definitely your style of romance.”
My chest constricted painfully. How the hell could he read me so well?
One hand still on the neck of the guitar, the other arm cradling its body, he padded closer. “I know talk of the future is forbidden, but you mean a lot to me. I need you to know that. And I’ll play anything you want. It killed me to see you so sad when I left. Thought this might cheer you up.”
He had done a hell of a lot more than cheer me up. I stood and grasped the back of his head, slamming my lips to his. The guitar was caught between us, making me have to pop up on my toes to reach his mouth, but I didn’t care.
“Take me to bed.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Chapter28
Mila
Icouldn’t wait another minute. All night I’d paced around in a fit of jealousy, picturing Jude on that stage, looking like a snack, with those big strong hands on his guitar.
Then he came home and played for me?
Panties?Destroyed.
Heart?Experiencing a lot of emotions I’d rather ignore at the moment.
Brain?Unable to think about anything but getting naked.
He picked me up with ease, and without breaking our kiss, I wrapped my legs around his waist. It was needy and sloppy but only made me want more.
Brow furrowed, he eased me onto the mattress. “Am I hurting you?”
I pushed up to my knees and pawed at his T-shirt. “Off,” I commanded. “And then the pants.”
A dark chuckle escaped him, sending a flash of need through me. “You’re bossy tonight.”
“Of course I am. I’m a woman with needs,” I said, muscling my tank top off around my bad shoulder.
Once I’d tossed the garment to the floor, I ran my hands up his muscular chest, desperate for more physical contact. “Maybe this makes me a horny groupie, but seeing these hands on the guitar?” I grasped his wrists and pulled until he was palming my naked breasts. “A woman only has so much self-control.”
“Oh, Trouble.” With a growl, he took my nipple into his mouth. “You don’t need self-control here. You can take whatever you want.”
