Saved by the Music (Saints & Sinners Book 2) (6 page)

Her eyes were glued to his throat as he swallowed, and then his lips. Oh, God, how she wanted to kiss those lips but she couldn’t… she shouldn’t….

“More than you know.” The sound of his whispered answer was like a velvet touch on her skin.

He moved closer to her, but they were interrupted by a knock on her door. He rested his forehead on hers and sighed.

“Sorry to interrupt, but you have a phone call from the IRS, something about the registration letter for one of your clients.”

Rebecca smiled at her when she saw the position they were in, and it reminded her of why playing with fire meant you were bound to get burned. This was her job, her life’s work, and sleeping with a client would damage her reputation to the point of no return. With her mother’s bills and everything else going on, she couldn’t afford that kind of backlash.

“Okay, thanks, Rebecca.” Turning to Sam, she said, “I’m sorry, but I have to take this call.”
And put some distance between us.
He looked like he was debating what to say next, and that didn’t put her at ease; if anything, it made her even more nervous.

“No problem. Come to Nashville for a few days. You can stay with me and we can talk about the project, get to know each other and really get started on this. You can meet the rest of the guys, and see Trish. I want you to meet the man who runs the center in Nashville. He’s the reason we’re doing all of this.” He took a few steps back, giving them both the distance they needed to reel in the sexual energy floating in the room.

“I don’t know if that’s such a good idea.” The words came out of her mouth so fast it was a sure giveaway that she didn’t trust herself to be alone with him. Something she was going to have to get over sooner rather than later.

“I don’t bite, Ashlee. Well, not unless you want me to.”

Is it getting hot in here or is it just me?
The image of Sam biting her neck had her squirming in her seat, and by the smile on his face, he knew exactly what she was thinking about.

“See, that’s why I don’t think it’s a good idea,” she told him as she gestured between the two of them. Plus there was her mom to think about.

“I promise to be on my best behavior. This project means a lot to me, and I won’t fuck it up no matter how bad I want to…. And believe me, I want to so fucking much.”

Now that was a feeling she could understand, but she couldn’t let her lust-filled thoughts get the best of her. Her mom would be fine for a few days, right? “Okay, I’ll come to Nashville.”

SAM

Still feeling the high he got every time he was around Ashlee when he reached his hotel room, he quickly changed into workout clothes and headed for the gym. Working out was more than just a way to keep in shape; it was a way for him to exorcise some of his demons. He hopped on the treadmill and set it up for a climb run, desperate to push himself further. Between the memories of his dad and his reaction to Ashlee, he was feeling out of control, and he needed to get it back. He ran as hard as he could, sweat dripping down his face and soaking his shirt. With every passing mile, he felt calmer, and when he reached ten miles, he was finally balanced again. He grabbed his towel and wiped his sweat-soaked face just as his cell phone started ringing.

“Sam Brooks,” he answered, breathless.

“Mr. Brooks, my name is Alexander Smith. I’m calling from the Tennessee Parole Board.”

Sam’s whole body tensed as the man introduced himself, because he could only be calling about one thing. “What can I do for you, Mr. Smith?” he managed to ask through the cloud of anxiety spiraling around him.

“I’m calling to let you know that Jack Brooks has a parole hearing in two weeks.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Mr. Brooks has had an impeccable inmate record, which has led the parole board to hear his request for early release on good behavior.”

The man spoke with such ease it fueled Sam’s anger. “He tried to kill two people and you’re giving him a chance for early release?” he asked through gritted teeth.

“People can change, Mr. Brooks.”

Sam couldn’t hear any more bullshit. “Not him,” was all he said before hanging up. He rubbed his hands over his face and, after a few minutes of silence, set the treadmill for another five miles.

Chapter Four

SAM

If the anxiety that had been building inside him for the past week was any indication of what was ahead working with Ashlee, this was going to be his own personal hell. He still couldn’t believe he’d invited her to stay with him. He blamed it on a moment of insanity, provoked by being in close proximity to the one woman he wanted, but couldn’t have. As much as he tried to forget the way her body reacted to his, how close he’d come to tasting her lips, he couldn’t get her out of his damn mind.

Having her under his roof, knowing she would sleep in the room right next to his, had him in a permanent state of arousal. He had taken more cold showers in the past week than ever before in his life, but no matter how many times he got off to the image of Ashlee naked in his bed, it didn’t help one bit.

He hesitated as to what car he should take to get her at the airport. He wanted to impress her, but he wanted her to be impressed by
him
, not by what his money could buy, so he opted for his old Chevy truck, hoping she wasn’t expecting a BMW. Although, he didn’t think she was the kind of woman who could be bought with shiny things. A person didn’t do her kind of work for the money; they did it because deep down in their soul, helping people was a part of who they were.

As he waited for her plane to land, he was accosted by a couple fans who wanted pictures and autographs. Contrary to other musicians who might have been annoyed by the interruption, he loved interacting with his fans. They were the reason behind the band’s success, and he never forgot that.

When the announcement came that Ashlee’s flight had landed, he grew more nervous by the second. Was she as nervous as he was? He watched as people flooded through the arrival gate, and when he saw her through the mass of people, he smiled and took her in as she searched for him.

She wore boot-cut jeans that made her legs look a mile long, with a green T-shirt under a gray jacket. Her hair was loose around her face, and God, he wanted to run his fingers through it. And her face was makeup free, and he loved that about her, so tired of women who took five hours to get ready to go out. Seeing her enjoy her natural beauty was like a breath of fresh air, and was she ever beautiful.

He felt her eyes on him the second she spotted him, and when she smiled, he had the strange feeling that he was home. He couldn’t explain it, couldn’t put it into words, but something settled inside him. Before he could psychoanalyze his own fucked-up head, she was beside him.

“Hey, thanks for picking me up,” she told him in that sweet voice of hers.

“No problem. It’s the least I could do. How did your meetings in LA go?”

She looked at him like she was trying to assess what his end game was. The truth was he really didn’t have one—not yet, anyway. He wanted to get to know her, to do whatever it took to gain her trust and make her open up to him.

He saw the resolve leave her body when she spoke. “Better than I expected, so that’s good, but the client really worked me over. I’m beat.” He looked at her to see if she even knew what she had just said, but she showed no indication that she was playing with him. All he could think about was how he’d like to be the reason for her exhaustion, and fuck would he ever work her good.

He ran his hand through his hair, debating between pulling his hair out and pushing her up against the wall. “Let’s get you home. You can take a nap if you want.”

She adjusted the strap of her bag over her shoulder, smiling at him like she appreciated his concern more than she could say.

He had a strange feeling that she wasn’t used to being on the receiving end of attention. He planned on changing that.

“I wish I could nap, but I can’t. I’ll be fine.”

“I stocked up on coffee.”
Seriously? That’s the best line I can come up with? How pathetic
am I right now?

She grabbed his arm, and he felt the shock of her touch throughout his whole body. He was sure she was going to think he was stupid, but she didn’t look amused; she looked touched, and what she said next hit home for him.

“But you don’t drink coffee.” She said it so low that it came out as a whisper, as if she were telling him one of her biggest secrets. He was dying to be the one she confided in.

He smiled at her because she was just so damn cute. “Nope, but you do…. Wait, how do you know I don’t drink coffee?”

She blushed like she had just been caught with her hand in the cookie jar. He couldn’t wait to hear what she had to say. Was she keeping notes on him? Because he sure as hell was making a list of everything and anything when it came to her.

“Oh, hmm… they offered you coffee at that morning charity event about two months ago and you said you didn’t drink it.” She looked down at her feet, avoiding his eyes.

“You remembered that?” He tilted her face up so he could see her eyes. God, she had the most beautiful eyes he had ever seen.

“You’re a pretty memorable guy, Sam Brooks.” She pulled away and stared down at her feet again, like she didn’t trust herself around him. Fuck, did that ever feel good.

“Good to know. I parked close by.” They walked to the parking lot in a comfortable silence. Every time a fan stopped him to take a picture, she moved back to let him have his time, or she offered to take it. He was more than impressed with her—not that it surprised him that she could handle herself in any situation.

He watched the sway of her hips as she stepped in front of him. When he looked up to see exactly where they were, he saw she was standing right beside his truck. “How did you know this was my truck?”

“Oh, I didn’t even realize I was walking toward it. I guess it’s just you.” If it had been any other woman, he would have called bullshit, that she must have done her homework, but not Ashlee. She genuinely looked surprised that she’d ended up in front of his truck without actually knowing it was his.

That had to be some sort of a sign, right? And then her words registered in his head. “What do you mean ‘it’s me?’”

She glanced at him then at his truck, and he was anxious to hear her answer. “The truck… it’s very you. Old-school, yet strong and steady with an edge.”

Who is this woman and where has she been all my life?
He was pretty sure he fell in love with her at that very moment.

She took a few steps toward him, seeming concerned. “Did I say something wrong?”

He wanted to shout that hell no, she hadn’t done anything wrong, but that would probably be a little over the top, even for him. Instead, he grabbed her shoulders and walked them back toward his truck, helping her in before he ran around to the driver side. “No, not at all. Let’s get you home, shall we?”

“That sounds like a plan. I would kill for a shower.” He put his truck in Reverse and almost hit another car when he heard her talk about taking a shower. Fuck, now he had the image of her naked body, under the water, all soft and wet…. His cock pressed against the zipper of his jeans, and he swore under his breath.

This is going to be a long drive.

He swallowed and focused on the road ahead, trying to not think about fucking Ashlee against his shower wall. “Well, I just happen to have one of those, so you’re in luck.”

“That must be why you smell so good.” The second she said the words, she covered her mouth with her hands, and he knew she hadn’t meant to say that aloud. He was quickly figuring out that a tired Ashlee had no filter.

I could get used to this side of her.

He chuckled at how easily she blushed when she was around him, wondering if he was the only one who got to her like that. “You think I smell good?”

“Shit, I didn’t mean to say that out loud.” She looked like she was either about to cry or laugh at how embarrassed she was.

He wondered what else she was thinking about. “Well, fuck, now I’m curious to know what else is going on in that pretty little head of yours.”

“I thought you were supposed to be on your best behavior.”

She glared at him like he was the one who went off the reservation, and he just laughed at the irony.

“I’m not the one who said I smelled good and got me thinking about having my scent all over you. I’m just a man here, Ashlee.”

She took a deep breath, shaking her head like she didn’t know what she was doing.
Hell, that makes two of us.
He was out of his league with her. “That’s fair. I guess I’m the one who should be on my best behavior then.”

“Not on my account, honey. I’d love nothing more than for you to always speak your mind like you just did. It’s refreshing.” The image of her riding his cock came to mind, how beautiful she would be on top of him, taking what she wanted. Fuck, what they both wanted.

“Most people can’t handle me then.”

The first thing that popped in his head was what kind of assholes she had dated in the past, and how he wished he could kick their asses for making her feel bad about going after what she wanted, no matter what it was. He reached for the hand that was resting on her thigh, and she jumped at the contact. “Baby, I ain’t most people. I don’t want to handle you. I want to fuck you until being bad never felt so good.”

“Best behavior, my ass.” She whispered the words, but he didn’t miss a beat. If he thought he was going to be the only one struggling to keep this PG-13, he had been dead wrong.

His woman had a wild side, and he planned on making it come out to play.

ASHLEE

If someone had asked her to picture Sam Brooks’s house, she never would’ve come up with what she was seeing. Sure, she had seen plenty of famous people’s homes before, each more extravagant than the last, but she knew that wasn’t really Sam’s style. She was expecting something modern, urban-looking, but it was the complete opposite, and she immediately fell in love with it.