Hot Buttered Yum (14 page)

Lucas opened his eyes in the darkened room. He knew it would be five o’clock. That would make it four at home, and he always rose like clockwork at four. He had to or else he couldn’t get his workout in before the day started.

He glanced at Roni beside him in the king-size bed, outlined by the glow of the bathroom light. He’d left the light on earlier when he’d gotten rid of the third condom of the night.

She slept on her stomach with one arm thrown out across the mattress, her fingertips just barely brushing his chest, and the other arm bent at the elbow and pointing toward the headboard. There was no pillow under her, and her face was turned toward him. His chest tightened at the sight of her bare back, the way it sloped down and dipped so erotically as if making a grand entrance to the swell of her rear. The side of her breast just barely peeked out under her arm. He wanted her again.

Which blew his mind. Not that he’d expected one night to be enough, but at this point, he was beginning to wonder if he could get enough. Never before had this been a problem.

Rather than selfishly wake her, he rolled to his side where he could simply watch.

And think.

If their first kiss had knocked his socks off, last night had left him naked in the middle of a snowstorm.

She was glorious and fun. And she made him want things.

He pictured her as she’d been standing on the bed the night before, her breasts and that scrap of a bra cupped in her hands. Her thumbs sneaking touches. He grew hard again just thinking about it. He liked her boldness. Both in and out of bed. She did what she wanted, and she made no apologies for it. He could go for that.

A soft noise slipped from her and he held his breath. He wasn’t sure if he wanted her to wake and find him watching her, or if he wanted a few more uninterrupted minutes alone.

Her lips moved and she made a soft mewling sound, and then she settled back down.

It reminded him of the years he’d spent with Des.

Roni was nothing at all like his ex—which was a good thing. Terrific, actually. But he had enjoyed waking up with a woman during those days. Just like he enjoyed waking up and seeing Roni there now.

Her fingers moved against the mattress as if searching. They’d lost contact when he’d rolled to his side, but now they wiggled and shifted, not stopping until they once again touched his chest. She grew still, with the tips of those fingers planted firmly against his skin.

A band constricted around him at the intimacy of the moment.

Suddenly her arm stiffened and her eyelashes fluttered. Her eyes opened. She didn’t speak, merely stared across the bed at him. Then a sexy smile slowly curved her mouth.

“Morning,” she murmured. Her eyes were droopy with sleep, and he knew that she was the best thing he’d ever seen at five o’clock in the morning.

“Sleep well?” he asked.

“
Mmmm
. Not nearly enough.” She yawned, covering her mouth with the hand that had been touching him, and rolled to her side. Sadly, she tugged the sheet with her as she shifted so that both breasts were covered. It was a shame. “I’m not complaining, though.”

He laughed lightly. “I hope not.”

She grabbed a pillow and shoved it under her head so they both lay comfortably on their sides facing each other. Neither seemed to be in a hurry to change the moment, so he took the opportunity to ask a question he’d wondered about all week.

“Do you ever miss playing professionally?”

Her dark eyes popped wide in the darkened room. “Starting serious this morning, huh?”

He hadn’t meant to, but he found himself wanting to know more about her. He’d enjoyed the few minutes they’d spent talking at the beach a couple nights ago. How he got into modeling had never been a secret, but rarely did someone look beyond the surface enough to ask.

He wanted to scratch her surface too.

“Avoiding the question?” he accused.

One shoulder gave a half shrug and she yawned again. “Maybe.”

“Why?”

She didn’t answer, but he could see her thinking about it. Her entire body grew tense.

“Okay”—he interrupted her thought process, suddenly worried the question would send her right out of his bed—“then how about this one? Tell me what it was like growing up the way you did. Traveling. Playing all over the world with your dad.”

She blinked as if readjusting her thoughts, and melted back into the sheets. An easy look touched her features. “It was the best time of my life,” she finally admitted.

He took her hand and held it between them on the bed. “Tell me,” he urged.

So she did.

“I was six the first time he took me with him.” Her mouth fell into that natural curve and her dark eyes warmed. “He came home from a month of being away and I ran immediately to the piano and played for him. I’d been practicing a new piece the whole time he’d been gone. Hours every day. I was so serious, I remember. And I tried my absolute best for him that day. I wanted him to be proud of me.” Her lashes dipped and when she looked back at Lucas her eyes burned with pride. “He was. When I finished, he nodded and told Mom to pack me a bag. I jumped up on the bench and threw my arms around his neck. I was deliriously happy. Dad didn’t hug a lot. But that day he did. His arms were like a vise around me,” she said. She laughed lightly. “And then he told me to practice it again.”

Lucas studied her in the dark. She still wore pride on her face, but there was something else mixed in too. A look that came with age, he supposed. Memories weren’t always exactly the same when you looked back.

“Six is young,” he pointed out. “Did that bother your mom?”

“A little, but she’d known this was coming. It was who Dad was.” She paused for just a second and her top teeth sank into her lower lip. Then she dropped her gaze to their hands. “It was who I was too,” she said softly. “I’d known I would be there beside him since the first day I sat at the piano.”

He pulled their hands closer to his chest. “And that’s what you wanted?”

She peeked at him from beneath her lashes and nodded. “That’s what I wanted.”

“I wish I could have known you then.”

She twisted up her mouth. “You wouldn’t have liked me. If you didn’t play piano, I had zero time for you.”

He laughed and pressed a kiss to her hand. “Tell me about the first night you performed. Do you remember it?”

“Duh,” she said. “It was only the most important night of my life.”

She shook her head and scrunched her shoulders up, and he saw that she went to a different place in her mind. A good place.

“I’d been bouncing with energy all day, getting on everyone’s nerves. I couldn’t believe I was finally going to be on stage with my dad.” Her fingers moved under his hand. “Thrilled doesn’t begin to describe it,” she said. “I had on a gorgeous dress. It was black and sophisticated, but had the most beautiful lace covering it. It felt so girly. And my dad was really going to let me play with him. Then right before the concert started—I wasn’t going on with Dad until later—I peeked out from behind the stage.”

Her gaze locked on his. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest as he waited.

“I saw this huge crowd of people. More than I’d ever seen in my life. I almost started crying I was so petrified. All those people were going to see me play. And what if I messed up? Dad would be so upset.” She swallowed. “Then the curtains opened and my dad stood there in front of them.” Her gaze drifted away, and her voice lowered. “A gush of energy swept through that room,” she murmured. “The noise level rose. People were clapping so hard I kept thinking that they had to be hurting their hands. And the smiles.” She closed her eyes and let out a soft moan. “Oh my goodness, they were so glad to be there. Just to see my dad.”

She stopped talking long enough to pull in a deep breath. She opened her eyes and rolled her lips together. A small line creased her forehead. “And then he sat down and put his hands on the keys, and I’d never seen a room go so quiet so fast.”

Lucas didn’t say a word. He was mesmerized by the look of amazement on her face.

“I’d never seen anything like it,” she repeated. She returned her gaze to his. “They sat there, all their attention focused on him while he played. I would have sworn that not a single one of them moved.”

“That’s pretty hefty to witness as a kid.”

“That was what I wanted.” She didn’t look away. “With every tiny fiber in my six-year-old body. I wanted those people looking at me the way they looked at Dad.” She blinked. “The way they clapped for him again when he finished. I suddenly had a mission in my life, and it was to get that reaction.”

Her passion echoed out of her as she lay there.

“Did you get it?” he asked.

She nodded. “I did. Maybe not quite as much that first night, but it was close. All my fear of playing in front of everyone vanished. I just wanted them to love me. And
ohmygod
they did.” Her head shook back and forth. “It was powerful stuff, Lucas. I could suddenly understand why the piano was the most important thing in my dad’s life.”

He couldn’t help but wonder if that meant the piano came before her too.

“I love that energy,” she whispered. “It gets me going.”

He nodded. He’d seen that Monday morning, but he didn’t admit it to her. “You also just love playing.”

She grinned. “Oh God, yes, I just love playing. I started when I was three. It came naturally.”

“Bet you put the other preschoolers to shame,” he teased.

The soft sound of her laughter reeled him in deeper. He wanted to be inside her, both physically and mentally.

“I’ll admit I wasn’t the other kids’ favorite person,” she said. She rolled to her back and picked up his hand, holding it above her stomach while tracing the edges of his fingers with hers. “When it was free time, I always wanted to play the piano. Fortunately for me, the teachers loved it. But unfortunately for the others, I think it got old fast.”

He weaved his fingers between hers. “I can picture you at that age. Thinking they must all be crazy, and continuing to play despite them.”

She chuckled. One side of her mouth twitched up sarcastically. “Pretty much.”

“Your parents divorced at some point, right?” He changed the subject to something else he’d wondered about, and ignored the little voice pecking away inside that asked him what he was doing. Sex. Fun. Easy. Not
what makes you
you? “Did that interrupt your travels?”

“No.” Roni shook her head, a faraway look sweeping across her face. With her free hand, she continued drawing small patterns on the back of his. “I remember we came home so Mom and Dad could go before the judge to finalize it. There were a couple arguments while we were home, of course. They were arguing a lot by that time. But then the next day we were back out on the road. We didn’t miss a concert.”

“How old were you?”

“Eight.”

“And you continued as you had been at that point? Traveling with him?” He couldn’t imagine doing that as a child. It seemed like all the travel would force a kid to grow up way too fast. Plus, children needed mothers. Especially girls. They needed a woman around.

“I traveled with Dad and my tutor,” Roni said, pulling his head back from places it didn’t need to go. “I didn’t go to regular schools because I was on the road so much, so my tutor went with us. And I didn’t see Mom and Danny as often, anymore, either. I was pretty much raised by my dad.”

She didn’t sound sad by the fact, but he could see it in her eyes nonetheless. She’d missed them.

“Danny is your brother?”

She nodded.

“How often did you see them?” His tone was barely a whisper in the room.

She shifted her gaze to his and studied him for a minute before answering. “I went home several long weekends during the year, but I got summers off. Mom, my brother, and I would spend those weeks here.”

“On the island?”

She nodded again. “I actually met my best friends here. Mom always liked the beach so it became our tradition. Danny liked it too, but not as much as the two of us. We would hit the road almost the minute I arrived in Huntsville each summer. I think it was her way of trying to give me something special. Like she thought she needed to compete with Dad.”

“But she didn’t?”

Dark eyes studied his. Sad. Lonely. “Never,” she whispered.

He inched a foot over until his big toe touched the arch of her foot. “Your friends?” he asked. “Are you still close to them?”

“Very.” She scooted her hip closer. Absently, as if she didn’t realize she was doing it. Then she slid her leg over the top of his, tucking her toes in under his calf. Heat coiled around him where she touched him, then oozed up and over his body, spreading to cover him like a sheet, warm from the dryer.

“And your brother?” he asked. His voice had tightened a fraction.

Her eyelashes swooped lazily down over her eyes, and her face softened, her smile became wistful. “He’s as annoying as ever.”

Ah, she loved her brother. He’d like to meet the man who gave her that tender look.

“How about your mom?” he asked. They were lying there, smiling and holding hands, their legs now intertwined, but the atmosphere had shifted. It was thicker. More serious. More intimate. He wanted to pull her close and hug her tight. He wanted to scrub away the memories of all the hurts. “Are you still close to her?”

Roni nodded, but it was a slow, deliberate movement, and her expression flattened a bit.

“Not as much as I’d like,” she finally admitted.

Lucas’s chest squeezed as he watched the emotions flicker across her face.

“But I will be seeing her soon,” Roni offered. She shot him another smile, this one a bit forced, but it was real enough. “My brother and I always go home for Christmas. I look forward to it every year.”

“I’m glad,” he said. He was close with his family, and the holidays were special for them too. It pleased him to know Roni had that in her life, even if it wasn’t perfect.

Roni suddenly went still. She didn’t say anything, merely lay there, staring up at him. Watching him. Her thick lashes framing almost-black eyes and her mouth with that slight tilt to the corners. And he felt like he’d been cut open and was being dissected.