Trouble in the Making (3 page)

“The new phase in the life of Johnny Trouble?” She latched on to that trail of conversation. “The one you mentioned to me?”

“Yep. The first part of the recording session is finally set. I didn’t get the call until I was already halfway here.”

“How are things going?” Liz hid behind her coffee cup until she could control her pout. It wasn’t that she didn’t understand work and how it sometimes got in the way of other things, because she did. Writing and editing deadlines killed anything life might have to offer until they were met. It was just that the present timing sucked.

“I recorded some stuff before I left, laid down part of the guitar track. We’ve got the studio for the weekend. One of the guys called in a big favor to get it locked down. It’ll be the first time we’ve all been in the same room together. I haven’t even met these kids.”

“Why you?”

“Why me what?”

She’d blurted the question out without thinking how it might sound. For a writer, she often had terrible communication skills. At least when it came to speaking. “Why do they like you for this collaboration?”

“Trying to harsh my mellow?” He nudged her under the table with his boot. The gesture was playful, teasing. “My bassist, TJ, gave me some BS that one of them said some shit about how they liked the poetry in my ballads and how I could make a guitar cry.”

Though he said it dismissively, Liz smiled in understanding. “I know exactly what he means. You’ve been doing that for years, even back in school. You wrote from the heart. It was about love, but not just the romantic kind. You wrote about life, sadness, happiness. You’ve written some of the best ballads I’ve ever heard. And the crying guitar thing? There’s no one else who can make a guitar do that in quite the same way you can. He’s dead on about that.”

Johnny gave a short nod. “Thank you, baby.”

He seemed uncomfortable by her gushing over him. She could relate to that. Whenever anyone wrote her or talked to her in person and praised her books for whatever reason, or told her she’d made a difference in their lives as aspiring writers, she would be both thrilled and embarrassed and unsure how to take the praise gracefully. “It sounds as though you’ll be doing a lot in a short amount of time.”

“We will, but this is important too. This,” he gestured between them with a wave his hand, “us is very important to me, and after this conversation, it’s all about us until I have to leave.”

“So…” She was still disappointed that he had to leave, but she was touched all the same. He’d flown across the country to spend one day and night with her. Talk about a fairy tale. “Do we get breakfast first and then have hot monkey sex, or do we just dive right in, forgoing any kind of sustenance, and survive on orgasms?”

He laughed and it wrapped around her, warm, rich and thick. He was sexy when he didn’t laugh, but everything changed in his face and his eyes transformed when he did. She couldn’t stop staring. This man, this rock star, this friend, wanted her. In the moment, it was real and hitting her square in the chest and right between her legs.

She’d been thinking about it almost nonstop since she’d thrown the question at him in a rush of false bravado. She knew he’d say yes when she asked him to take her bed. Yet, it was the one thing she hadn’t rehearsed in her head. How she’d react when he agreed. He hadn’t hesitated. He hadn’t balked or thrown up over the idea. No, he’d grinned and leaned over the surface of their small dinner table in the middle of the crowded restaurant and kissed her with a loud, smack.

He’d seen her shock and said he’d give her a few days to think about it, to ponder what it would be like to finally give in. He’d emailed her with the dates he was available, plans had been made and travel set in motion. There was no backing out.

He—

“I think forty-five minutes is enough time for you to get ready and come to my room.”

“What if they don’t have it ready? I mean, there really is no reason for us to have two rooms anymore if you’re leaving.”

“I’ll have to come to yours if they don’t have one for me soon, but I’m pretty sure they’ll find something, and while I do agree about the two rooms being redundant given the short time span, I think it’s important that I have a separate room. It’ll force you to come to me and that will be better for you in the end. Puts you in control of the decision. Makes you accountable for your actions.”

Well, when he put it that way… He was right and all she could bring herself to do was nod. She’d asked for this time with him and he was going to make her honor it and see it through. She was good with that, even if she could only admit it inside her own head.

Johnny smiled, just a small curl of his lips upward, yet it sent frissons of heat all through her body. If he so much as touched her right then, she was afraid she’d go up in flames.

“Forty-five minutes, Liz. If I know you, you’ll take that time to talk yourself in and out of this a few more times. I’ll call you when I have the room number.”

“I’m in three-fifteen.” She offered up the information, knowing there was no going back now. She was here. She’d admitted she wanted him. It was time to shake off the shyness and uncertainty of being with him. It was time to suck it up and get a grip.

Yeah, right.

She was far from dead and Johnny coming back into her life after so many years just might turn out to be an incredible wake up call for not only her body, but her heart as well.

She drained her cup, the now cold, sweet, milky coffee sending shivers through her. When she slid her hand from under his and stood, she was surprised he let her go so easily. She grabbed hold of whatever vestige of courage she could and held on tight. “I’ll be waiting for your call.”

Johnny couldn’t believe his luck. He had rounded the corner at the top of the second floor landing when he spied Liz stepping out of the elevator and heading for the espresso bar. And luck was exactly what it had been. She was there. She was there for him, of her own accord, of her own doing. She was there to sleep with him, to give herself to him, to fulfill some of her fantasies and maybe even some of his.

All the times over the years he’d spent waiting, hoping, trying to find the perfect time to tell her how he felt, what he wanted, and she pulled the rug out from under him by tossing the query out at him over dinner.

Liz.

He gave her several minutes before he exited the coffee place himself. If he’d followed her immediately as he’d wanted to do, he was afraid she’d have bolted. Much as she wanted him, and he had no doubt about her desire, she was scared. He’d seen it in her as she sat with him. She could barely look at him without blushing, but there was a good deal of appeal in that for him too. She didn’t take anything between them for granted and he didn’t pretend to think his wishes for more than sex wouldn’t be met with resistance.

He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t a little bit nervous about how the coming events would unfold, but he’d meant every word he’d said to her as she sipped her latte. Whatever happened between them in a bed, he didn’t believe it would change anything out of bed for the worse. Her friendship, her ability to treat him as though he were a regular guy, had more to do with how he felt about her than anything else. He needed someone in his life like that. He needed a woman in his life like that. He needed Liz.

She was beautiful, sure. That thick wavy hair and those piercing green eyes. He knew she had no idea just how incredible she was. He knew she had no idea of her own allure or why he would be so taken and fascinated by her either. She was uncomplicated, intelligent and she
got
him. Those things she would understand, but the unspoken smitten feelings he had toward her? She wouldn’t get that and he wanted her more because of it.

She still had that Southern accent that he seemed to have lost over the years living in California. She had filled out, grown up and had the kind of curves he’d hadn’t felt pressed against him in years. Her yoga pants had hugged her hips and thighs the way he’d dreamed of doing and her t-shirt, oversized as it was, did nothing to hide the fullness of her tits. She had a natural rack that swayed a little when she moved. She was seductive without trying. He couldn’t wait to strip her down, hold her in his arms and finally slide up inside her.

His wait for her was nearly over. This day and the coming night were all about having her. It was all about the physical transition from friendship to relationship. It wasn’t about their past, even though there was one and it was a big part of how they came to be where they were in their lives and where they were in their current state as friends, but in bed with her was all about being in bed with her.

He’d had little sleep on the flight out from L.A. and could do with a nap, but he knew the second he closed his eyes he’d be out for hours. It had been that kind of week so far, and as disappointed as she was that he wouldn’t be able to give her the weekend she wanted, he was equally disappointed.

At the moment, he was running on adrenaline and he needed to keep running on it until he got on the plane headed home.

“Can I help you?” The pretty, young desk clerk didn’t bat an eyelash at his leather-clad body, nor did she seem to realize who he was. He didn’t care. He wasn’t looking for any attention from anyone except the one he’d sent back upstairs. And he’d gotten the reaction out of her that he’d wanted.

They hadn’t been anything more than friends way back when in high school, but he’d always remembered the way she’d looked at him every time he wore any kind of leather. She hadn’t been able to keep the hunger out of her amazing green eyes. He’d been flattered by her attraction, but had maintained his distance and kept things friendly between them.

“I’m wondering if a room has been found for me. I just need it for tonight. I believe I was speaking with your manager earlier.”

“Oh yes.” She reached inside a drawer and pulled out an envelope. “Are you Mr. Trouble?”

“I am, yes.” The envelope was handed to him along with a printed out release for use of his credit card. He signed the paper and pocketed the key cards. “Thank you.” He smiled down at the young woman and walked away.

It wasn’t often he met people who were oblivious to who he was, but it was always a little weird given the number of people he did meet who were very familiar with him. It wasn’t hard to mistake the long hair and the tattoos he rarely hid.

Unless he was onstage or making an appearance, or had a photo shoot, he didn’t usually wear full leather and silk as he had today. It was more often jeans, with boots or Converse, and t-shirts. He believed in comfort and causal, but after seeing the look in Liz’s eyes, leather was likely to be more permanent attire.

The hard-on he was sporting would likely become more permanent as well.

He wanted her. God, did he want her. That one kiss, that one night five years ago, had exploded something inside his chest and he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her, about more, about time lost and time to be made up.

Her natural shyness was at odds with her having approached him for a weekend of sex, but he was also aware those moments of boldness, of risk taking, of trying something new, of taking chances on things that would pull her out of herself were few and far between and he would have to act quickly in order to keep up and not miss it.

He’d started out a little demanding, a little forceful with her this morning, but what worked was the teasing, slowly bringing her out of her shell. She wouldn’t be the typical sex kitten, and in truth, he didn’t want that. He wanted her, however she had to be in order to get what she wanted. She would never throw herself at him like so many other women in his life had, it just wasn’t who Liz was as a person, and if he had to work a little harder at breaking through, he was up to the challenge.

He took the elevator to the third floor and paused when he got out. He could still knock on her door, go to her and make it easier for her, but in the end he wanted her coming to him. He turned in the direction of his room and walked the length of the floor.

Inside, he was drawn to the windows which overlooked the bay. Growing up in Florida and then moving to California, he’d always been around water. His house was on the ocean and he’d spent many summers as a kid at the beach. Being around it, being able to see it calmed his soul and kept him grounded. Then again, being around Liz the last few years did something similar and he knew that that was part of her appeal for him.

That she was delectable to look at, to fantasize about, to dream of was purely icing on the cake of his life.

She wasn’t the super model, the actress, the singer or even the groupie. To the rest of the world, she’d be an obscure woman. He’d keep her in the shadows as often as he could. She would prefer that over being on magazine covers and gossip websites. He’d prefer it too. He wanted her and only her and this time with her was his chance to tell her, show her, convince her that it was more than sex.

At the same time, sex was definitely at the top of the priority list.

He’d call the desk and have his bags brought up and he’d take a few minutes to get the smell of the flight off and then…

Liz.

“I’m in room 336. Relax, take a shower and walk the four hundred and eighteen steps to the end of the hall. Yes, I counted them when I got off the elevator. Just as I’ve counted every minute and second since you left the café. I want you naked, Liz, but then, you can’t walk down a hotel hallway naked, can you? And even if you could, you wouldn’t. You were never that kind of girl and you’re not that kind of woman. You’re private. I like that. So put on the robe. It’ll be soft against your skin. Put your hair in another ponytail. Will you do that for me? I used to love when you came to school with your hair up. You were fresh and natural, never made up, so don’t come to me all made up now, looking to impress. You already do impress me. I’m waiting, Liz. I’ve been waiting years for this.”