Page 10 of Hard Rock Tease
He leaned closer, his lips nearly touching mine. "Is that it?"
"Y-yes." I stammered. "What else would it be?"
His eyes were bright and burning. It reminded me of that first moment when I'd seen him sitting at that piano, furiously scribbling down notes on his music sheet, trying to compose but somehow unable to.
My heartbeat raced. That look was the same one I'd seen on stage dozens of times. The passionate poet Noah Hart. That was the man I wanted to work with. That was the man who ignited such desire inside me. The cold Noah I'd seen in that meeting was nowhere to be found in those eyes. I could only see the fire burning inside of them, matching the fire burning inside of me.
His gaze trailed down my face, pausing on my lips again. I wet them unconsciously. His fire raged even brighter. He placed a hand beside my head on the wall, boxing me in.
"Don't get any ideas." His words were low in his chest. "You're going to play music. I'm going to write down lyrics. That's it."
A shiver went through my body. The difference between the coldness in his words and the heat in his eyes had me trembling.
I couldn't keep reacting like this. I steeled myself, locking my shaky knees and straightening my back. I looked him straight in the eye.
"And what kind of ideas do you think I'm getting?"
"The kind all fangirls get when they come face to face with their idol." He gave me a dark smirk. "You're wondering if my cock is as big as you've heard. You're wondering what it would be like to have me fuck you."
I nearly whimpered at his words. Warm, wet heat flooded my body.
But despite my inner feelings, I was going to act professional if it killed me. I cleared my throat, trying to steady my voice.
"Don't you get any ideas. I'm here to do a job, not throw myself at some rock star."
"Don't lie." The warmth of his breath caressed my lips. His narrowed his eyes at me, dark and glinting. "You're thinking about spreading your legs for me right here and now."
God but he was right. I ached inside, throbbing and empty. The fact that we were in the middle of a hallway in public meant nothing to me. If he made a move right now I had no doubt I'd succumb.
I took in a shallow breath and forced myself to meet his eyes. Despite the longing between my legs, I wasn't going to fall at his feet like all the other girls.
"I'm here to work, not to play groupie." I placed a hand on his chest, putting some distance between us. The heat coming off his body was incredible. I felt every firm muscle of his chest under my palm. My brain threatened to fog up. I filed the sensations away to examine later.
He let me push him away, slowly backing off. I leaned against the wall, trying to fake a casual pose. In reality, I needed something to keep myself upright on shaky legs. He studied me, a curious look despite the heat of his eyes.
"Fine then," he said. "If you're here to work, meet me at eight tomorrow."
"In the morning?"
"Yes, in the morning," he said impatiently.
"Don't rock stars party all night and sleep until noon?"
"Not when they've got an album deadline, apparently," he muttered. "The room you found me in was on the fourth floor. I'll be there working tomorrow." He gave me one last heated look. "Don't be late."
He strode off, leaving me reeling. Leaving me wanting. The quivering in my stomach wouldn't abate.
Noah was so prickly, but those looks he gave me, the words he spoke to me, only caused the simmering tension between us to rise higher with every encounter. He knew exactly what effect he was having on me. He knew I was lusting after him.
And despite his words to the contrary, I had a feeling Noah Hart didn't mind in the least.
Chapter Four
Layingin bed on my back, earbuds in my ears and an unopened letter in my hand, I listened to my favorite Darkest Days album on repeat. With blistering dual guitars and heavy on the bass, the song was at once aggressive and melodic. It was the lyrics, though, that stood out to me.
The singer's voice, soft and full of longing, crooned words of devotion for the first verse, then deepened into a low growl, dripping with rage for the chorus. The dichotomy of the two, the switch from loving to loathing and back again, sent shivers up my spine.
Iextendmy hand
