Page 40 of Loved Out Loud
“If I was attached to you, I wouldn’t be making out with another man.”
His lips press together into a firm line. “Right. Is Sierra meeting you in Cleveland?”
“Yes.” My shoulders relax with the change of subject. “Her flight is getting in soon, actually. I should probably get cleaned up before she gets here.”
“Okay, have fun tonight. Call me when you get back to your room?”
“I will.”
After saying our goodbyes, I walk over to the full-length mirror and tilt my head to the side. The hickey is so glaringly obvious. Did he realize what he was doing? I hope Sierra hassomething in her makeup bag to cover it because I definitely don’t.
Ignoring those nagging thoughts for the time being, I open my suitcase and pull out the outfit I’m wearing tonight. It’s a tight, dove gray mini dress, long sleeves of course. Definitely out of my comfort zone, but I know Sierra will want to push me.
There’s also the added bonus of the chance that Stone will see me.
God, I was such a coward last night on the bus. Pretending to sleep the entire time was ridiculous. But how am I supposed to look him in the eyes when I basically dry humped him to near orgasm?
It was shameless.
And I’d do it again.
I pull the lever to turn on the shower a little too aggressively as I groan at myself. I shouldn’t be thinking about it so much. He’s a rock star. That kiss probably meant nothing to him. Hell, a fucking orgy is likely so common place around him that he wouldn’t think twice about it.
But here I am, obsessing over something that probably meant nothing to him because I’m delusional. The sight of the scar marring my left wrist catches my eye and twists my stomach. People like me, chronically depressed and plagued by deep anxiety, aren’t going to catch the eye of someone as perfect as Stone Tyler.
Honestly, this book tour itself is going to take so much out of me. I won’t want to leave my apartment for months once it’s over. I let my thoughts drift to the story I’m crafting and away from anything that could trigger me.
The few days that I’ve been traveling have been helpful for getting my creative juices flowing. Not that I’d admit it to anyone. And speaking of things I’ll never admit out loud, body doubling was helpful. Maybe there’s just something about beingin the same room as another creative that frees blockages. It wasn’t just me who was getting work done, I noticed Stone writing in his notepad while he fiddled with his guitar.
I snarl at myself for letting my thoughts drift back to him and turn the shower off. The tiny hotel towel gets another snarl. This place has to be expensive, and they don’t even have towels that close around my chest. Maybe I should swing by a store on my way back after the signing and get some towels of my own. Or even a robe.
A knock on the door has me glancing at the time. Sierra shouldn’t be here already; there’s still a half hour until her flight lands.
“Just a second,” I call out to whoever is waiting while I grab a t-shirt and pull on a pair of shorts.
“Hello, little Archer.” Stone’s lips lift into a slow grin as his gaze rakes over me.
“What do you need?” My tone is shorter than I mean for it to be.
His brows rise. “I just wanted to stop and say hello. Wish you good luck at your signing tonight.”
The tension in my body relaxes. “Thank you. Sorry for being short, I didn’t expect you to be the one on the other side of the door.”
“You know there’s a way you can tell who’s there.” His eyes flick to the peephole. “You can look through it and see who’s standing outside the door. In fact, as a single woman you should do that every time you open a door.”
“There’s no one on this floor that’s not with the band.”
“Exactly. Use the peephole.” His eyes flare when he notices my neck. “Did I do that?” He reaches out, brushing the wet strands of hair out of the way.
“Yes.” I cross my arms to cover how my nipples pebble at his touch.
He makes a low sound of approval in the back of his throat. “You look good wearing my mark.”
Holy. Fuck.
My entire body heats with need. I can feel my pussy flutter with anticipation of the promise in his voice. We stand there, the threshold of my room the only thing separating us, when a door down the hall opens, and Darren’s voice calls out for Stone.
He reaches for the doorknob with a wry grin. “We’re not done.” With one last heated look at my neck, he closes the door.
