Sexy In NYC: How To Get Lucky Part 8

"Now why do I feel like we're supposed to hug it out?" she asked.

Always an opportunist, Marco eyed her. "We can do that. I think it's a good idea, in fact."

"Hug isn't a euphemism."

He smirked at her. "So dirty all the time. I wasn't suggesting any such thing." He held his arm out. "Come here. Give me a hug."

"Now you're just being weird." She tilted her head like she thought he was going to grab her. "But I guess I've done weirder things than hug a rock star on his private jet. No, wait. I haven't."

She moved into his arms, scooting along the soft leather seat so she could reach him. She gazed up at him. "Hey," she said softly. "I felt like I needed a preamble."

"You never need a preamble to touch me," he said. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her against his chest. She was wearing a black sweater and a red leather jacket, and it crinkled against his arm. "Just reach out and grab whatever you want, whenever you want."

Allison laughed softly. "Will do. Now if your coworkers weren't four feet away, I'd let you kiss me."

He arched a brow. "You'd let me? How generous of you. But don't do me any favors."

"Did I hurt your ego? Get used to it."

It was his turn to laugh. "Just hug me, d.a.m.n it. This isn't a real hug and you're stalling."

"Fine." She grumbled a little but put her hands around his neck and embraced him.

Marco closed his eyes for just a brief second, long enough to breathe in her scent but not long enough that anyone would notice. Then, when he knew enough time had pa.s.sed that she would try to bail on the hold, he slid his hands under her a.s.s and hauled her from her seat to his.

"What the h.e.l.l?" she asked. "What are we, seventeen? I am not sitting on your lap, oh my G.o.d."

Yet she wasn't scrambling to get away from him. There was a romantic hidden deep beneath her layers of sarcasm and frequent eye rolls. He was convinced of it. "Shh. You'll be more comfortable over here."

"That is the biggest bunch of bulls.h.i.t I've ever heard in my life, and if girls are stupid enough to fall for that then they deserve to have their hearts broken."

Interesting. "Is that what you think? That I'm going to break your heart?"

Allison blanched. "Of course not! There's that ego again. I'm not going to fall in love with you."

He didn't expect her to. Nor did he expect to fall in love with her. But he loved messing with her. She was very easy to rile, and he enjoyed watching her bl.u.s.ter. It was easier to take than seeing her sad or full of self-doubt. "You don't know that. I hear I'm a catch."

"If you like dirty artists, sure. Not my thing."

Marco stroked the back of her jeans with his thumb, leaning in closer to her, studying her full, glossy lips. "No? What's your type? Right now I'm into p.r.i.c.kly brunettes."

"p.r.i.c.kly?" She reared back to glare at him. "I'm not p.r.i.c.kly, you a.s.shole. And stop grinning at me."

He laughed. "I can't help it. You're so easy to bait."

She tried to shove away from him, but he held her tightly.

Unfortunately, the pilot came over the speaker announcing they were cleared for takeoff and everyone needed to buckle up. Allison scrambled off him with a look of triumph, and he let her go. She clicked her seat belt in place, pulling it so tightly it was a miracle she still had circulation in her legs. He was about to tease her further when he glanced over and caught Harry's eye. His manager shook his head at him. He frowned back. What the h.e.l.l was Harry's problem?

Apparently Harry was going to tell him. He gestured toward Aidan, who was on his second drink, and shook his head again. "What, like we don't have enough f.u.c.king problems? Now you have your head up your a.s.s? Robert is going to do time, you know. This is his fifth DUI. There is no way he'll get away with less than ninety days, and we have a record to cut. But whatever. Just enjoy your lap dance."

Now that p.i.s.sed him off. "f.u.c.k you, Harry. Don't talk to me like that. I've been sober for a year and living like a G.o.dd.a.m.n monk and I've been there for every meeting, every rehearsal, every tour date and appearance and all the other stupid c.r.a.p you demand from me, without complaint. I'm not the one who scored a DUI last night, yet I still dropped my plans to fly back to LA on twelve hours' notice, without complaint, so go suck my d.i.c.k. You want to yell at somebody? Call Robert in jail. Or knock the swizzle stick out of Aidan's hand over there the way you did mine, or is it just me who isn't allowed to drink vodka?" He was ranting, he knew it, and he didn't want to expose Allison to their internal band bulls.h.i.t, but enough was enough. He wasn't going to take the hit for s.h.i.t he wasn't doing. For the first time in years, he had it together. Totally together, and he wasn't going to tolerate Harry's finger stuck in his face.

"Hey!" Aidan said. "Leave me out of this. When has my drinking ever been a problem? I'm not the one who wrapped my car around a pole or almost drowned in Chicago."

That was a low blow. "f.u.c.k you, too, Aidan," Marco said vehemently.

"f.u.c.k all of you," Aidan responded as the plane started down the runway.

As they rose into the air, Sharon, who was in her early fifties, gave a big harrumphing sigh from her seat. "I'm not listening to this for four hours. I'll quit, Harry. I raised three boys on my own and I don't need this nonsense in my life, seriously. It's not worth the paycheck to have you all squabbling like a pack of five-year-olds. I did my time."

"Maybe everyone needs to just calm down," Allison said.

Marco was too irritated to be embarra.s.sed, even though he really should be. "I'm sorry, Allison. You shouldn't have to listen to this."

"Look, I get it. You all spend a ton of time together and everything has to be a collaboration, a group effort. That's hard. But b.i.t.c.hing at each other is never going to work. It seems to me like the person you're all angry with is the one person who isn't here, so maybe stop taking out your disappointment with Robert on each other."

"Dude," Aidan said. "The brunette speaks with sense."

"My name is Allison," she told him. "Not the brunette. Unless you'd like me to start calling you the ba.s.s player, which I can do."

Aidan laughed. "Allison. Got it." He drained his gla.s.s. "I need another drink."

Marco's head started to throb. He could feel the tension settling in for a good, long stay. He hated feeling like this. Hated when he got angry, lost it. But he was tired of getting called out for s.h.i.t he hadn't done. He'd made his mistakes, he paid the price, and how long did he have to be treated like a f.u.c.k-up? It was times like that when he wondered if he'd be better off on his own, but that wasn't a good idea, and he knew that. He wasn't Justin Timberlake. He was a rocker. He couldn't pull an alb.u.m off without his band. But it reminded him yet again of how this had stopped being fun, had stopped giving him personal and creative satisfaction. He wanted to find that again.

He leaned back against the seat and rolled his gaze toward Allison. "I'm sorry."

She shrugged. "You've never heard me and Jamie go at it when one of us eats the last of the Ben & Jerry's without sharing. It's ugly."

He laughed. "Somehow I doubt it's quite the same thing."

Allison reached over and patted his knee. "Probably not, but don't worry about it. I'm not really delicate, you know. Plus this makes you all seem human in your pettiness. I appreciate that."

Well, there was that. He shook his head at her. "You have a very unique way of looking at the world. I like it." h.e.l.l, he liked her.

If he wasn't careful, all his teasing her about her falling in love with him was going to turn around and bite him in the a.s.s.

Allison flipped through a magazine and tried to ignore how hot Marco looked sitting next to her. He was strumming his guitar and humming to himself. They were somewhere over the middle of the country, based on the terrain she could see out the window, and they were racing away from the sunset. It was like they'd been flying in eternal dusk, which was a discomfiting thought.

She hadn't been kidding, though, when she'd told Marco his minor scuffle with the rest of the group had made all of them seem more human. Here they had success and money and they were still getting on each others nerves. It made her feel like she wasn't doing so bad after all. So maybe she'd been drifting through life. So maybe she hadn't been the best choices. She hadn't made bad choices either. She wasn't the one getting DUIs and repeatedly exposing herself to STDs.

Besides, the outburst between Marco and Harry had served to distract him from what he had been doing-which was flirting with her in a way she wasn't sure she could handle even for two days. It was oh so tempting to think she could just pull down her walls for a short amount of time fall for him, then build the walls back up. But it never worked like that. Once they were down, it was a b.i.t.c.h to rebuild them. The bricks never went back into position the same way, and there were gaps. Gaps equaled ways she could get hurt, and she honestly didn't think she was strong enough at the moment to handle having her heart crushed.

But hey, guess what, she was already on a plane with him. No turning back now.

She did want to sleep with him. Desperately. She just didn't want to sleep with him and then be a dips.h.i.t about it.

Aidan was snoring on the couch, still holding his gla.s.s. Sharon was working on her laptop, as was Harry. Marco glanced over at her and smiled. "How's your magazine?"

"Scintillating."

"There's that whole big word thing again. Remember, I'm just a swamp kid."

"Says the man who writes lyrics that are basically poetry."

He looked genuinely flattered. "Thanks. Maybe I'll write a song t.i.tled 'The Brunette.'"

She laughed. "Is about a girl who loses everything? That's me. Winning." She wanted to give herself a facepalm. Maybe she was still in shock, but it wasn't as horrible as she would have thought. She had managed to return the majority of her gleeful purchases of the day before, and it had only hurt a little. h.e.l.l, maybe she was having some kind of growth moment, or maybe later she was going to have a dramatic late reaction where she sobbed on Marco poolside the next day. She hoped not, though.

"Maybe it's about a girl who already has everything without realizing she does." He studied her, and his gaze was so intense, she instinctively looked away, down at his fingers.

His fingers were rough, callused from playing the guitar every day for so many years, yet they were confident, skilled, and seemed to move of their own volition, even while he was talking.

"What does she have?" Allison asked. "Who is she?" She knew he meant her, but she wanted him to spell it out.

"The girl with the beauty and the brains and the sense of humor. What else does she need?"

His voice was soft, and it melted her insides. Was that how he viewed her, really? It seemed to her like she was just a con artist, spinning it for everyone that she had it together, when she didn't. It was embarra.s.singly pleasant to hear him describe her. It was a knee-jerk reaction to want to hide her discomfort with sarcasm, but she restrained herself. Marco had earned the right to honesty from her. He'd been open, he'd been patient. He'd been a nice guy. She couldn't insult him by pretending not to know he was complimenting her.

"I can think of a thing or two," she said, forcing herself to meet his eyes. She couldn't, though, not really. What did she need truthfully? An apartment, a job, blah, blah, blah. She knew enough to know that it would all shake out one way or another, because she wasn't looking to move into a highly compet.i.tive field. She could find another retail position, an even better one, and she wasn't going to be homeless. All of that seemed far away anyway. Here, on this plane, the only thing she could think about wanting was Marco to use his mouth on her, everywhere he could. "How about we start with that kiss you threatened me with."

He smiled. "You don't care that we're not alone?"

She had been sitting next to him for two and a half hours, watching his lips move as he sang softly and hummed, imagining the feel of them on her again. She wouldn't care if the Mormon Tabernacle Choir were on the plane next to her, though they might object. A couple of music industry people were not going to bother her. "No one is looking. And it's just a kiss, not making a baby."

"I knew my mom was lying to me about that. Kissing never got anyone pregnant. I never went blind from jacking off, either."

Allison laughed. "She did not tell you that."

"The h.e.l.l she didn't. Only I was really confused because I saw her disgusting boyfriend Carl spanking it all the time and he never went blind. When I called her out on that, she told me to stop trying to be smarter than her. So I shrugged it all off and just started messing around with girls instead."

Allison rolled her eyes. "That's a charming stroll down memory lane. What does any of that have to do with you kissing me?"

"Nothing. Which makes me an idiot." His fingers stilled. "I think my game is off. Out of practice."

"Hey," she whispered, eliminating the s.p.a.ce between them so she was only inches from him. "Don't get game with me, okay? Just be yourself. Marco de Luca. He's the one I want to spend time with."

"Jesus," he murmured. "You're killing me, you know that?" His hand slipped up onto the nape of her neck. He ma.s.saged her skin gently.

Gooseb.u.mps rose on her skin. "Don't kill me. Kiss me." She could feel the warmth of his breath. She could smell him, that subtle, earthy cologne he wore. She could see the stubble of his beard, and the chip he had on his incisor tooth. She could see that his eyelashes were ridiculously and rudely long for a man, and she could see that he wanted her as much as she wanted him.

Something was happening between them, and it was very, very appealing, and yet such a bad idea. But when his mouth lowered and brushed over hers, she closed her eyes and sighed into the kiss. No regrets. No fears. She had spent the last decade settling for less than she wanted because she was afraid. Her. The big, loud, trash-talking bulls.h.i.t cynic with an opinion on everything was the one who was too afraid to take a risk. Jamie had moved from Kentucky to New York without knowing a single soul. Mandy had left England and opened her own store. Caroline had gone corporate, going head to head with misogynistic men on a regular basis, while wearing heels and an impeccable chignon. Allison had settled into the easy route, the least common denominator.

She was afraid of being hurt by Marco. She knew she would be. It was inevitable. He wasn't a keeper. He wasn't even a potential boyfriend or friends with benefits beyond this trip. He was unattainable, nothing more than a moment in time. When she was ancient and looking back at her life, she would remember him fondly as the musician who took her to the top of the Empire State Building and to California on a whim, and she would smile. That was it.

So why was it when he kissed her, she felt soft and feminine and happy? Why did she feel so open and giddy and tender? It made no sense and it was stupid. But that didn't stop her from pulling back and cupping his cheeks.

"You're very cute," she told him.

"No, I'm not. Kittens are cute. I look like I've had too many late nights and traveled too much," he murmured. "I look older than my age."

"You're still cute." She kissed his lips softly. "Even with the beard scruff. And even with the dirty hair that could use a blowout. It's your eyes. They sparkle with the mischief of a little boy."

"Have you been drinking?" He c.o.c.ked his head. "Because you sound like Allison on painkillers and wine. Are you going to start spinning in circles next and telling me the plane is raining unicorns?"

She laughed. "What, you're allowed to compliment me, but I can't compliment you?" Though, she had to admit, she wasn't usually in the habit of telling men their eyes sparkled. He had a point. "You look f.u.c.king cute, okay? Just shut up and let me be nice."

He sighed in mock relief. "That's better. You're back. I thought you'd been abducted by aliens."

She stuck her tongue out at him. "You couldn't be so lucky."

Marco winked at her. "I make my own luck, remember?" His hand slid down her side and rested on her waist. "I wish we were alone."

"What's the plan?" It hadn't seemed all the important, because h.e.l.lo, private jet and Southern California, but now she figured she could inquire what exactly she was supposed to be doing for the next two days.

"Tomorrow I have to do some recording at my house, so you can lay out by the pool. But tonight I'm all yours."

Yum. She wondered what base they were supposed to be on, according to his baseball chart of s.e.xual contact. "Do I sleep in the guest room? I hope you have little shampoos for me. I expect five-star treatment."

"I don't have a guest room."

"Seriously? Don't you have guests?" She couldn't tell if he was joking or not.

"No, not really. My house is only a two-bedroom, and I use the other room as my reptile room."

Wait. "What? Stop messing with me."

"No, I'm serious. I have bearded dragons and geckos and a couple of iguanas. They're cool."

"They're lizards." She swallowed hard. "So, uh, I don't have to sleep in the reptile room, do I?" She would have a heart attack and die. Dead. All over for Allison.

"My plan was to share my bed with you." Marco ran his thumb over her bottom lip, making her forget all about scaly beasts. "I don't mind. I won't even steal all the covers."

She shivered from his touch, trying to visualize what he looked like naked.

"Is that okay? I promise there are no strings attached. No expectations."

Now he was the one on drugs. "Marco. I am not flying all the way across the country to have a pillow fight with you. I think we should do whatever feels right, wink, wink, nudge, nudge."

He gave a soft laugh. "Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Marco pulled her head down so that his lips brushed her ear. "Then I'm going to f.u.c.k you. I don't want to rush it, or hit it and quit it. I want to draw it out and drink you in and make every inch of you mine."

Desire had a tight knot of heat building between her thighs, and she wanted to crawl onto his lap and grind herself against him. She'd never been good at the tease, and his words were driving her crazy. But no point in letting him know that. Allison turned slightly, so she could eye him casually. His hand still gripped her head and she was leaning on his arm, her b.r.e.a.s.t.s pushing against him, their respective leather jackets rustling against each other. "So this is a full-service vacation package, then. Excellent."

His eyes narrowed. "You won't be disappointed in the value, I promise." Then he shook his head a little. "It's been so long for me that I'm going to tear you the f.u.c.k up, you know that, right? I'm going to be rough and nasty and greedy, but I won't do anything you don't want me to, and I'll try not to skip bases."