Bluestone Song Page 12

  The buzz of an electric guitar drew her attention to the stage. Maddox stood behind the microphone, his Telecaster strapped over his shoulder, fingers sliding up and down the strings to make them squeal. The sound drew a cheer from the crowd who recognized the opening of one of his more popular songs, a driving tune that Beth liked to listen to at top volume.

  When, of course, no one was listening.

  He gave her a half-smile and leaned in to sing. Couples swung out onto the floor, people Beth had known for years but had never seen move like that. More and more people joined them, and her view of Maddox was obscured. She turned back and Quinn held out a hand to her. She looked at his extended palm dumbly.

  “Let’s dance.”

  She widened her eyes and met his gaze. “Oh, no.”

  “Shut up, and let’s dance.”

  She took a deep breath—she was no dancer, especially to a song this fast—and put her hand in his. He guided her out to a spot and turned her into his arms and began to move. She stumbled after him a few steps before he adjusted his hand at the small of her back and began to guide her. When she was able to stop holding onto him in a white-knuckled grip, she looked up to see him watching her.

  “He’s a good guy, Beth.”

  “What?” Quinn was butting into someone else’s business? The man made a point to keep to himself, and snarled when anyone looked into his affairs.

  “Maddox. He’s a good guy. Worth the risk.”

  She didn’t want to point out that Quinn had his own “worth the risk” in Lily, because she didn’t want to get into his business any more than she wanted him in hers. “He’s leaving.”

  He turned her in some tight circles, his steps sure. “But you’re not thinking about that tonight.”

  Was she so transparent? Did everyone in the bar know she wanted to go home with Maddox tonight? “No.”

  “I’ll send Linda home early with the baby. Then you can go with Maddox without a big mess.”

  “I can’t leave her home alone. She gets into trouble, has boys over, drinks.” Why had she thought she could let herself enjoy an evening with Maddox? She had too many responsibilities.

  “I’ll keep an eye on the place. I’ll let you know if anything goes on.”

  “Quinn, you can’t do that.” Her face heated. He would know exactly why she wasn’t home, too. She didn’t want him knowing that about her.

  “Either that, or I keep her here on a school night.”

  “I—” She wanted to protest further, but all she said was, “Thank you.”

  He gave a brief nod. When the song ended, he released her and walked away without looking back. She exchanged a puzzled glance with Maddox, who was watching, eyebrows lowered. Was he jealous? Good Lord, she never thought she’d be in this position, friends helping her sneak off to be with a lover, that lover being jealous of the friend. It was all like one of those teen dramas on the CW. She tossed her hands in the air and headed back to the bar.

  Linda stood beside Jonas’s carrier. “I’m ready to go.”

  Oh, great. Of course Linda would expect Beth to go home with her.

  “I’m going to stay and listen a while longer.” Beth hoped her face wasn’t giving her away. She could feel the flush from lying all the way to her toes. “I’ll be home a little later. And you and Jonas will be alone.” If only she knew where Adam had gotten to, she wouldn’t have to impose on Quinn. But then her brother would know why she was out late, and that was worse than Quinn knowing.

  Linda’s brows drew together suspiciously, but she lifted Jonas’s carrier and hooked his diaper bag over her arm. “I don’t suppose you’ll let me drive home.”

  “I’ll drive you home,” Trinity offered, sliding off the bar stool. “I’ll be back.” She kissed Leo and tucked her arm through Linda’s to lead her away.

  Once Linda and Jonas had gone, Beth let herself relax. She finished another pop and let herself appreciate Maddox. Because he was a star, many people discounted his talent. But as she watched his fingers move over the strings, she felt a mixture of desire and pride, an odd combination that heightened her awareness of how long it had been since she’d felt a man’s touch.

  His touch.

  He pulled up a stool and dismissed the band. He picked up his acoustic and played the opening stanza of an old Willie Nelson song, one she’d first heard from his lips. No one could know he was singing to her, but she did, and heat flooded her entire body.

  As he said good night, she slipped out of the bar, down to her car and drove to his place. His driveway was hidden from the road, thank God, or the whole town would know she was here, and why. Her nerves were jumpy, her pulse rabbiting, like she wanted to do. She didn’t realize she was holding her breath until his headlights flashed in her rearview mirror. Even then, she left the key in a bit longer, left the lights on, still poised for escape from her own folly. He parked beside her and walked around to her door, waiting. Finally, with a deep breath, she pulled out the key, shut off the lights, and opened the door.

  Chapter Six

  She put her hand in Maddox’s and let him lead her up the steps to the deck, and into the house. He didn’t say a word, which made her nerves sizzle all the more. He let her go only long enough to open the door, then turned her and pressed her against the wall, both hands framing her face as he slanted his mouth over hers, not holding back, his thumbs stroking her cheeks, the corner of her mouth, his tongue delving between her lips in rhythmic thrusts, igniting heat throughout her whole body. She glided her hands up the front of his shirt and pulled so the fabric parted in her hands. She slid her hands down over his bare chest, into the crisp hair that hadn’t been there when she’d last touched him. What else had changed? He’d certainly become a better kisser, caressing just there, slowing down just when she thought she couldn’t bear the intensity.

  He stepped back, drawing her with him, and the next thing she knew, she was straddling him on the couch, and his mouth was on her throat, his stubble scratching and caressing while his fingers played beneath the hem of her T-shirt, above the waist of her jeans. She rolled her hips forward, against the rise of his jeans, remembering just how he’d made her feel on those long-ago nights, how he’d work her into a frenzy before he’d help her find release, many nights with his fingers, some nights just by laying on top of her, and that last summer—she’d been lucky she hadn’t ended up like Linda.

  Just remembering how lucky she’d been should have sent her scurrying for the door but God, she felt so good.

  “You said something about a bed,” she gasped when he lingered on that sensitive spot below her ear.

  “One minute.” He slid his hands up, over her T-shirt, and cupped her breasts in both hands, dragging a sigh from both of them before he closed his hands over her waist and pushed her from his lap. “Upstairs.”

  Her legs were rubbery, and he caught her arms with a chuckle, and guided her toward the stairs. As she started up, he made a sound of appreciation behind her. She looked over her shoulder to see him looking at her ass, and she gave it an extra sway before heading up the rest of the way.

  The bedroom was a loft, with a big bed in the center, under a row of skylights in the slanted ceiling. She could see the stars through them.

  Maddox caught her around the waist from behind, kissing the side of her neck so that she thought he would leave a hickey. Twisting out of his grasp, she turned to wrap her arms around his neck, bringing his mouth to hers briefly before he tugged her T-shirt up and over her head. He stroked his hands up her bare waist to cover her lace-covered breasts, his thumbs sweeping over her nipples so she gasped into his mouth. Before she could recover, he bent his head to suck one tip into his mouth, deep and hard. She cried out, curving her hand over the back of his head, holding him to her, arching against him, and she felt him grin against her.

  “Always loved making you do that,” he said, and with a deft move, unhooked her bra.

  She couldn’t wait to see what else he loved making
her do. She shoved his shirt down his shoulders and leaned forward, pressing her breasts to his chest, loving the rasp of his chest hair against the sensitive skin. His fingers slipped between their bodies and worked the button of her jeans loose, then slid his hand down the front.

  And made her cry out again.

  “Good thing there aren’t any close neighbors,” he said, trying to withdraw his hand, but she clasped his wrist. “No, baby, you’re not getting off that easy.” He pulled his hand free and shoved at her jeans. She helped, stepping free of the denim. He glided his hands down the curve of her ass as she reached for the buckle of his belt, fumbling with it for a bit before tugging it free and closing her hand around his straining erection.

  “You’d better not be kidding about having it covered.”

  He chuckled and backed her toward the bed. Then she was on her back and he was over her, his hands pinning her wrists to the mattress, his hips holding hers. For a long moment, he did nothing but look down at her, his eyes glinting just as they had when he was seventeen years old. Then he was himself, and devouring her. She lifted her hips, desperate now, and he peeled away.

  She made a sound of protest that had him chuckling again, and he returned to her, naked except for a very important accessory. He skidded his fingertips along the soft flesh along the inside of her thigh, as if she needed encouragement to open for him. He slid a finger into her, watching her face as he did so, then another.

  God, it had been too long. She was tight, and while her body was wet for him, she wasn’t ready. He knew it, too, because he swept his thumb up, across the bundle of nerves, making her sigh again and lift into him as he pressed his other fingers deeper, stretching, until she moved against him, into the thrust of his fingers, and he drew them out slowly before settling between her legs, parting her, pushing the head of his erection against her, into her, slowly.

  The muscles on his neck tensed with his restraint, and she held her breath until he was seated fully inside her so that she felt the pulse of him at her center. Even then she couldn’t breathe, could only look up at him in wonder.

  Then he began to move. She couldn’t bear the intensity of his gaze, so she curved her hand around the back of his neck and drew his mouth down to hers. He indulged her for a moment, his lips moving over hers, his muscular chest brushing her breasts. The way he touched her, those reverent caresses, made her realize her heart was at risk. She could tell herself this didn’t mean anything, was only a release of tension, he’d be gone soon. But deep in her heart, she knew the truth. She wanted too much. She never let herself want anything, but she wanted this. It was too late. She couldn’t protect her heart.

  She released him so he could lift himself over her again, move into her in that maddening rhythm—wasn’t he as frantic as she? Each thrust of his hips only made her hunger grow. She had forgotten how wonderful he felt, how gentle he was. He stroked down her side, toying briefly with her breast before tucking his hand under her bottom and lifting her, parting her. And just that simple movement opened her that much more, and sent her crashing over the edge. She cried out, her head back, her fingers digging into his shoulders as she shattered.

  When she pulled the pieces of her brain back together, she looked up to see Maddox grinning. He lowered his head to kiss her, and stoked the fire all over again.

  By the time he was done with her, she was a boneless puddle on his mattress, with three orgasms in the span of time it took him to reach his own. When he dropped to the mattress beside her and dragged her close, she didn’t have the energy to protest, though the self-protecting side of her brain urged her to get up, get dressed and get out.

  “I love that you still sound the same when I’m inside you,” he said, his lips against her temple.

  The cynical side of her wanted to ask how he remembered after all the women he’d no doubt been with, but she didn’t have the energy to spar.

  “I should go.”

  “Just a few minutes,” he said, and shifted to face her, scooping her hair away from her face. “I should have had you in a real bed fourteen years ago.”

  “And then I’d probably have been in the same situation Linda’s in. No, it’s just as well we were limited. We did enough damage in the back seat.”

  “But I wasn’t able to get you naked like this.” He coasted his hand down her body, lingering on her breast, then her hip. “You’re gorgeous, Beth.”

  “Right.” After all the women who threw themselves at him. But that gave her the energy to push herself upright, away from his touch. “I need to get home.”

  He blew out a breath but didn’t say anything as he rolled onto his back. “I want to see you tomorrow. Are you working?”

  “Yes.” She stood to pull on her panties, then bent to reach for her jeans.

  “Let’s do a picnic or something, before you go in.”

  She looked over her shoulder at him. “You don’t have to romance me, Maddox. I got just as much out of this as you did. More, I’d say.”

  “I still want to see you.”

  She hooked her bra deftly. “I’ll come back tomorrow night after work.”

  He sat up, opened his mouth as if he wanted to say something, but didn’t. Good.

  Her shirt was in the other room. She considered kissing him good night, but decided against it, and with a casual wave, she left.

  What. The. Hell. Beth had never been one for casual sex. Hell, it had taken him most of the summer after her junior year to talk her out of her virginity. And based on the way her body felt, and her awkward movements, she hadn’t added to her experience by much. So what was with the nonchalant exit? Not even a kiss, when she’d been ready to devour him before?

  He got that she was cautious. But to not even want to have dinner, to agree to come back tomorrow night, presumably for another round, was strange. Was it because of him, or some other reason? He was damned sure going to find out, because he wasn’t going to touch her until he romanced her a bit.

  Maddox tucked the cell phone with a half dozen messages from his manager away in the kitchen drawer, and turned back to setting the table. Despite his crazy hours on the road, he’d never actually eaten a sit-down dinner after midnight. Crazier still, he didn’t know for sure if Beth would show up. She’d been so skittish last night after they made love, like she couldn’t wait to get away from him. But she said she’d be back, so he planned for it, with a light dinner of salad and rolls and the fish he’d caught today, lightly grilled. Well, it would be grilled when she got here.

  Tires rolled on the gravel drive and his stomach eased. Hell, he hadn’t been nervous about entertaining a woman in years. And this was Beth. He knew her better than he knew anyone.

  He crossed to the door and opened it as she came up the steps. She was blushing even as she stepped through the door. He dipped his head to kiss her cheek, which seemed to surprise her, and guided her across the open living room to the table on the patio. He’d already poured a glass of wine and a sparkling cider for himself.

  “What’s this?” she asked.

  “You wouldn’t come on a picnic with me, so…” He picked up his glass and took a sip.

  She eyed the glass. “You didn’t have to feed me. I ate at work.”

  “Yeah, well.” He didn’t know how to tell her, other than he’d already done, that he wanted more than sex. Still he realized she was thrown off balance by his greeting and this set-up. “I’m going to grill the fish. Shouldn’t take long, but I didn’t know what time you’d get here.”

  “What can I do to help?”

  She followed him to the kitchen and they fell into an easy pattern of working together. She eyed the bottle of cider on the counter and he tensed.

  “Twelve steps?”

  He nodded, holding his breath and awaiting her reaction.

  “Good,” she said with a decisive nod. “I hope it wasn’t anything terrible that pushed you in that direction, but I’m glad of it.”

  “It was a series of things,
” he said, deciding to be open. “A few lost days, a scare from a woman I couldn’t remember saying we were engaged. She’d gotten my credit card and bought herself a ring and a wedding dress and everything. So scary, yeah, but not life-endangering. I now have a restraining order and a two-year pin.”

  “That’s incredible.”

  “I missed a lot, though, you know. Partying all the time. I missed a lot of the fun parts of being a country singer, like playing at Red Rocks and singing the National Anthem at the Cardinals game. I didn’t screw up, thank God, but I sure as hell don’t remember it. I was plastered at the CMAs the year I didn’t win, sat with freaking Shania Twain, and don’t remember. Pretty sure I made an idiot of myself, because she looks at me weird these days.” He flashed her a half-smile. “So yeah, clean and sober now.”

  “I’m glad. I’m proud of you.”

  Of course. Of any person in the world he could tell, it should be Beth. She lived with an alcoholic father who ruined his life and that of his kids, drowning his grief when his wife died. Beth knew all about blacking out and making a fool of oneself, always worse in a small town. It was no wonder she kept to herself.

  And now she was going through the same thing with Linda, only he didn’t know if she’d listen to him about getting help. She never wanted anyone’s help.

  “You don’t have to buy wine for me. I’m just as happy drinking cider.”

  He set the spatula on the edge of the in-stove grill and turned to her, catching her around the waist and backing her up against the other counter. “I wanted you nice and relaxed tonight, so that once I get you naked…”

  She blushed, but laughed and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Then what?”

  Dinner was tense, but not in a bad way. He kept his foot in contact with hers under the table, and she’d touch his hand more than he expected. They’d barely cleared the table when she turned in his arms at the sink and kissed him, long and deep.