“Get up on the counter, Sienna,” I repeat, my voice a rough growl. I watch her every movement as she shimmies onto the countertop, getting a glimpse of the black panties I plan to peel off her delicious a.s.s. I frown when she drags the bottom of her dress down as far as it’ll stretch.
She gives me an expectant look as I pluck a red guitar pick out of my back pocket, and I sit down on the stool in front of her, letting her long legs rest against the sides of my body, her heels scratching my legs. I pluck the beginning of the song and watch, amused, when she recognizes it.
“Britney?” she asks incredulously. I shrug, continuing to play the song she’d been listening to on the way here.
Pausing before the chorus, I slide the cover off the dish of strawberries sitting on the counter next to her and hold one up to her mouth. She’s reluctant at first, but when I nod slowly, she parts her lips, accepting the fruit. Her tongue lingers on my fingertips.
“I’m versatile.” I say at last, sucking strawberry off the tip of my thumb before strumming a little more of the song. I make up my own lyrics, and when Sienna snorts, I stop playing again. I lean in close to her, listening to her ragged breathing as I flick the guitar pick between my thumb and forefinger. “What?” I demand.
She flushes, glancing down at her lap, but I slide my hand under her chin to force her to look at me, the guitar pick sc.r.a.ping lightly against her skin. She shivers. Her ni**les tighten beneath her clothes, beneath a dress that’s so thin I could rip it to pieces with my teeth.
“What?” I probe.
“Just didn’t think you’d actually play that particular song.”
Nudging her knees apart, I move the guitar to my side, and dip my head between her legs to kiss the inside of her thigh. Her knees instantly tighten around me, but I shake my head. “Lucas,” she murmurs.
“I can’t get enough of the way your skin feels, Sienna.” I run my tongue along the smooth surface of her other thigh. “Or the way you taste and smell.”
“Why do you have to say things like that?” she moans.
Straightening my back so that my gaze is level with her blue eyes, I allow an animal-like grin to take over my face. “Because I want to f**k you,” I say. “All night. I want to keep you in my bed until I’m the only thing you think of.”
But I know already, by the way she’s breathing and the way she’s clutching at the low cut top of her dress, that I’m already the only thing on her mind. And a moment later, she seals the deal when she wiggles her hips to the edge of the counter to offer her lips to me.
I kiss her long, rough, until I clutch my fingers through her hair at the scalp, gently breaking us apart. She shakes her head desperately, the exact way I’ve pictured it.
“I want you too, Lucas,” Sienna says, offering herself to me on a granite platter.
Chapter Ten
Sienna
Lucas’s bedroom radiates as much s.e.xiness as the rockstar himself, decorated in black furnishings with vivid splashes of red strewn throughout the place. He steps inside, crooking his finger at me when I linger in the doorway. Taking a deep breath, I follow him inside, running my palms down the front of my dress as he dims the recessed lighting.
I half expect him to blast some of Your Toxic Sequel’s dirtier songs to set the mood—he’s sure as h.e.l.l c.o.c.ky enough to do something like that—but he doesn’t touch the iPod dock on the black dresser when we walk past it. Instead, he turns and grabs my body to his, and a little noise that’s part nervousness, part excitement, bubbles from the back of my throat.
“I want you there,” he says, gesturing his head to the giant bed behind us.
“I thought that was where we were going.”
Growling, he lifts me off my feet. I sigh when my body hits the soft mattress a moment later. When I realize that I’ll wake up in this bed tomorrow morning beside of him, I shiver, and Lucas bends his body over mine, staring down at me with dark eyes.
His rough fingertips brush strands of hair away from my face. “You look dazed.”
“I’m not.”
He kisses my temple, and then trails his lips across the angles of my face, until he reaches my lips. I move my body against his, and bite the inside of my cheek when I feel how hard he is. “Then what?” he demands.
I could lie to him. I could tell him that I’ve done this several times and that I’m not at all intimidated by him, by being in this room. “Nervous,” I whisper, deciding to go with the truth. He chuckles against my mouth, sending a jolt of electricity through my body. Shaking his head to each side, he eases himself down on top of me.
“Don’t be nervous.” He opens his mouth to say something else, but a buzzing noise from deep inside of his pocket causes him to pause. His shoulders go rigid, and he glances down at his jeans for a moment.
Propping myself up on my elbows, I twist my head to the side. My hair spills down the front of my face, and I brush it back as I ask, “Do you need to take that?” His phone had vibrated all through dinner and not once had he bothered to check it.
He glares at his pocket a little longer, as if he’s trying to decide whether or not this call is important enough to take.
It must be, because whoever it is won’t let up.
“No,” Lucas growls at last. Then, pulling in an uneven breath, he orders, “Touch me, Sienna.”
Tentatively, I press my palms flat against his lower stomach, shoving the Henley over his hard abs. The heel of my palms brush up against his tattooed skin, and Lucas lets out a sound between his teeth. “Good,” he whispers, climbing off of me and motioning me to sit up.