Page 34 of Hard Rock Fling
"Okay. 'Night." Faith flicked through channels, unaware of my little problem. She liked to unwind with trashy reality TV after a long day.
I headed to my bedroom and closed the door. I slipped under the covers and closed my eyes. I forced myself to inhale and exhale steadily, trying to induce sleep.
It didn't work. I couldn't stop my hand from drifting down my stomach. I couldn't stop myself from going further, until my fingers were between my legs. I was already so wet. I let out a soft moan.
Even with him miles away, Ian still drove me crazy.
Chapter Thirteen
My body buzzed with nerves, both fear and excitement fighting for control. It was finally time to meet with the band to present my ideas for their new concept.
I'd been working on this for weeks, but still stayed up until nearly dawn sketching out last minute ideas before my meeting with the band. I'd only caught a few hours of sleep. I'd proposed an entirely new image and concept for the album on the spot, but I'd barely fleshed out the details myself. I needed something concrete to show them.
How the hell do you represent the rise and fall of a relationship through clothing, photoshoot props, and other material objects? It was one thing to write a song about passionate sex. It was another to have a person embody those emotions physically.
I wasn't entirely satisfied with what I put together, but it was a good start. This was an amazing opportunity. I didn't want to screw it up.
There was one problem, though.
I couldn't suppress the small part of me that quaked inside at the thought of seeing Ian again.
I wondered what he would think of my idea for him and his brother. I also hoped he wouldn't act overtly suggestive in the meeting. I didn't want to get distracted and I knew I wouldn't able to keep my composure if he toyed with me like he'd been doing. Would he be as flirtatious? Or was his attention short-lived? He certainly knew how to throw me off balance. He no doubt thrived on it.
I finished my breakfast then got showered and dressed — a harder task than I anticipated. I didn't know how to dress for the meeting. Should I wear a conservative business suit, complete with white collared shirt and blazer? I wanted them to take me seriously as a professional. Then again, they hired me for a creative job. Should I accentuate my individuality and be avant-garde? Show them how much of a fashion forward person I was?
I couldn't stop a small thought from bubbling to the surface. I wanted to impress Ian. I wanted to be sexy. I wanted to be irresistible.
I wanted him to be as affected by me as I was by him.
Unfortunately, none of those styles were really me. Faith was right — I didn't have much in my closet aside from sweater dresses, leggings, and oversized shirts. I shouldn't have left the decision of what to wear for the morning of.
I decided to borrow from Faith and mimic my boss. Janet was chic but professional. A black pencil skirt, ending right at the knee, along with a bright red peplum top. It hugged my every curve in just the right way. The outfit paired well with a skinny black belt and matching high heeled red pumps, to accentuate my legs. I wasn't comfortable in heels, but damn if they didn't make my legs look hot.
I could imagine Ian's eyes skimming along my body's silhouette. The thought made my insides throb.
My usual messenger bag got switched out for a black leather purse with metal spikes along the seams. I wanted more of a rock and roll style than usual. Armed with a portfolio case filled with sketches I'd hastily drawn up the night before, I was ready to go.
When I arrived at work, I stopped a few feet down the hall from the conference room. I straightened my shoulders and made myself walk into the meeting with a confidence I didn't quite feel. Fake it 'til you make it. That would be my motto.
The moment I stepped into the room, all my confidence shattered.
Not only was the entire band there, not only was my boss Janet there, but the Director of Product Developmentandthe band's manager Naomi were there.
Every eye swung to me.
"Hope. How nice of you to join us." Janet's voice was snide.
I quickly glanced up at the clock on the wall. I was two minutes early. My heart still thumped wildly. I was frozen under those stares. The stares of people who were so much more important than me. I tried to force a pleasant expression onto my face, but barely managed to make my lips twitch upwards.
My savior swooped in to rescue me.
"Well, look at you, sweetheart. You're dressed to kill."
Ian pushed back from the conference desk with a kick of his heels, the leather chair wheeling back. I gripped my purse tight, still frozen, making my eyes focus on Ian and not dart around the room nervously.
He approached me with an easy stride. "I wouldn't expect anything less from our new Image Consultant." He plucked my portfolio out of my hands. I reached out reflexively, trying to grab it from him, but he held it out of reach. He flipped through the pages and whistled out loud.
"Fine Arts degree, huh? Maybe my Picasso joke wasn't so far off. Take a look, guys." Ian tossed my portfolio on the table, sketches fluttering everywhere.
