Page 105 of My UnTrue Love
“I’ve made my choice, too. Now, I’m plumb plumbed out.”
“You’re not taking your emotional needs seriously. It’s why you’re so hesitant about opening up all the doors of our connection, I think.”
“Physical connectionsdoseem to be taking precedence.” His gaze slipped down her body, as if he could see straight through her cartoon nightshirt. (She justhadto buy some sexier lingerie, damn it.) “I can’t focus on anything but how much I want to touch you.”
She bit her lower lip, her breasts aching. No one should have a voice like Bill’s. It just wasn’t fair how every word became music. “I’ve taken advantage of you.” She stressed.
“You go right ahead and keep doin’ it, then.”
“On the night we left The Yellow Roses, I myself said it was tacky for managers to sleep with their clients.”
“What if a client sleeps with his manager?”
Clem tried to think beyond the electricity coursing through her blood, as Bill leaned closer to her. “Idoconsider it ethical for a muse to sleep with the artist she’s inspiring.” She blurted out. “Have you considered the ethics of that?”
“I consider sleeping with my muse, all the time. And my ethics don’t feel a twinge about it.”
“They don’t?”
“Nope. Ethical dilemmas are a specialty of mine, as a matter of fact. No matter the circumstance, I somehow find a way to keep my morals consistent.” He smiled. “My turn for a question, now.” His head dipped to her ear. “Do you really think you’re leavin’ this bed a virgin, darlin’?”
He asked that in a playfully dominant tone that her body positively melted for. It made her want to please him and also urged her to disobey, just to see what he’d do. She made a little sound of distress at the irresistible temptation he posed.
“That’s right.” Bill’s voice was all honey-coated darkness. “You know I’m never letting you go. You know you’re the only girl in the world I want for my mate.”
Clem’s whole system was on fire. She shifted a teeny bit closer to him, unable to help herself. “We have to do what’s right for you, Bill.”
“We’re about to do all sorts of ‘right things’ together.” His small smile grew bigger. Smugger. She had the uneasy feeling he could scent her arousal. Coyotes had that freaking super-smelling thing. “I’ve got some true creative inspiration.”
That didn’t sound promising. …Or maybe it soundedtoopromising.
Either way, Clementine was hypnotized.
Her phone rang on the nightstand, breaking the spell and giving her a much-needed distraction. There was only one person thoughtless enough to call her at midnight and talking to that dummy would douse her lust.
Bill’s eyes narrowed.
Clementine blindly reached over to grab the phone, her gaze staying on Bill’s face. “What do you want, Johnny?” She asked without checking the caller ID. She probably could’ve come up with a more gracious salutation, but she didn’t much care. “It’s late.”
“What do you mean? We’ve always been able to call each other at any hour.”
If Hank was right (and her brother was usually right) Johnny needed reassurance that she would always be his biggest supporter. Only she couldn’t offer that anymore. She couldn’t invest herself in Johnny’s career as she once had. She didn’twantto. Her devotion to building The Yellow Roses seemed very long ago.
“It’s too late.” She told him softly.
“It’s notthatlate. And this can’t wait. Half the town is calling me ‘John Jacob Jingleheimer-Schmidt,’ because of Bill! I’m sure he posted it on purpose.”
“Oh, I’m sure he did, too.” Clem gazed up at her husband. “Billalwaysknows what he’s doing.”
Bill’s eyes glinted in wicked amusement.
Clem’s core temperature skyrocketed in response.
“Rosalee’s useless.” Johnny went on, sounding pissed off at his new manager. “She let Bill’s ‘support women in music’ bullshit catch fire online.”
“Why don’t you call me back tomorrow?” Clem suggested, all her attention on Bill.
Languid and unhurried, her husband rose from the bed. She watched him with suspicion, not trusting his challenging countenance.
