‘What if I’ve changed my mind?’
‘You haven’t.’ He was just feeling lonely and he was drunk.
‘Why’d I kiss you then?’
‘Because you were being kind. Kissing me was nicer than slapping me as a reminder to pull myself together.’ If he really wanted her, he’d remember that in the morning.
‘I only slap women’s bottoms,’ he remarked absently.
Even though she didn’t think he meant anything by it, the notion still left her feeling strangely tingly. Not that she found anything remotely erotic about punishment.
‘Are you sure you don’t want to get dirty with me?’
‘I thought the idea of washing was to get clean.’
A brief, wan smile stretched his lips. He turned and walked back to the stairs, only fractionally unsteady on his feet. ‘You’ll come if I holler, right? In case I slip over.’
‘I’m sure you’ll be fine.’
‘But if I’m not, you’ll come, won’t you, Dani? It probably won’t look good if I smash my head open in the shower the same night the group split.’
‘I’ll come,’ she promised, and sincerely hoped he wasn’t going to cry wolf. Seeing him naked would probably fry what few brain cells she had left.
Xane staggered downstairs.
What the hell had happened? A short while ago, he’d been ready to swear off love for ever. He intended to lock himself in a darkened room, get blind drunk, pass out on the floor and not wake up until Thursday. Instead, there was a pleasant buzz in his veins that had very little to do with alcohol and far more to do with the girl on his sofa.
Talk about being confused.
It was probably just his battered heart looking for something, anything, to cling to; being worshipped by a pretty girl sure beat being lonely. And Dani wasn’t like the chicks that normally sneaked backstage to accost him. All they ever seemed to want was to strip him bare and use him as a life-sized masturbation aid. The fact that he was a person, with a past and a future, with opinions and sensibilities, entirely passed them by. Most of them didn’t even care which member of the band they were with. They just wanted a rock star. And, with the exception of the odd one who wanted him to sing while she went down on him, they didn’t give a fig about his music.
Not only had Dani opted to keep her clothes on, he’d also lay money on her being intimately acquainted with every word, every chord and riff that he’d ever released. Also, she seemed to see through his guise to the real him.
Maybe that’s why he was intrigued. She was right; he did pour everything into his music.
Of course, he’d spoilt things by attempting to get physical with her. He’d blame the alcohol, but actually some habits just died hard.
Not that he’d meant to kiss her. He’d … well, he’d panicked, and did what he always did, opened his mouth when he ought to have kept it closed. Even that oughtn’t to have led to anything – but the taste of her had got to him, all sweetness and innocence. He’d felt her apprehension, even as her excitement took over, and then he couldn’t stop himself. His heart might be bruised beyond recognition, and his head knew exactly how bad one-night stands were for his soul, but neither had apparently informed his cock of that fact, hence the growing wedge in his pants that was making it difficult to walk. All of which left him with a hard on and nowhere to put it.
No big surprise there either, since he’d been acting like a Grade A prick from the moment he and Dani met: accosting her, using her as a taxi cab and then lumping her in with Black Halo’s usual class of groupies. It was a miracle she hadn’t slapped him yet, and no surprise at all that she wasn’t interested in servicing his ache. It wouldn’t surprise him if she slipped into the night while he was down here, and drove home.
He’d have to applaud her good sense if she did, right after he’d lamented not grabbing her number. He paused, hands braced against either side of the narrow stairwell. Maybe he ought to get that now, except it’d make him look even more of a dick. Better to stick to plan A and clean himself up.
Xane misjudged the bottom step and landed on his arse. God, he was a mess. A stinking, fucked-up mess. And a fool too for thinking that alcohol might right everything. Alcohol had never worked for him for blotting out pain. It only added to it. If he’d really wanted to lose himself for the night, he ought to have lurched back to the hotel with Ash and double-dipped with whoever his lead guitarist had managed to pick up en route. They could have made one gloriously long and sordid night of it, and he wouldn’t once have thought about Steve, or Elspeth, or the band, or been tempted to prod his heart to see if it hurt.
It always fucking hurt! That’s what unrequited love did to you.
Nor would he be stuck in purgatory with a girl he fancied but who wasn’t going to spread her thighs on command.
He actually liked her for that.
Besides, sleeping with her because his day had been shit, and he felt like shit, and she was the only thing around in his life at the moment that didn’t start with ‘S’ and end with ‘it’, wasn’t a great plan. It’d render the act and both of them cheap.
But then, he was pretty cheap. Much as he liked to kid otherwise. Ash might be known as the Black Halo playboy, but Xane had enjoyed easily as many partners.
‘You’re screwed up, mate.’ He gurned at his reflection in the mirror. His stage face was smeared all over the place, and he’d already taken his contact lenses out, so the real him was creeping through the cracks. ‘Shower,’ he ordered himself. Then, if he was sensible, he’d crash out and leave that poor girl upstairs alone. It wasn’t like screwing her was going to mend the gaping hole in his chest. Just because she’d shown him a bit of empathy, a little compassion, didn’t mean she could fix anything.
Stripped naked, Xane stepped under the shower-head. For several minutes he let the water run over his tired limbs. Make-up washed away, the kohl leaving black tracks across his body. Only once his mask had flowed down the drain did he let his hand stray towards his remarkably stubborn erection.
Damn thing wanted some action, same as it always did when his emotions took a nosedive. Considering the years he’d spent conditioning it to do just that, he could hardly complain. Sex had always been a nice easy way of blotting out reality. He blotted out a lot of reality.
Yup, he definitely ought to have made a night of it with Ash. Pointless pleasure; his body knew all about that, even if it didn’t seem entirely right to be turned on after everything that had happened.
Xane closed his eyes tight and rewound the last ten minutes. He imagined he was back upstairs, stretched out above Dani on the sofa. Better that than dwelling on the lover he’d lost.
That kiss had seared him with its heat, but the lady had been in shock, so he’d refrained from getting gropey. Only now she was staring at him with her plump lips parted and her breathing unsteady. Desire filled her eyes. Yet she wasn’t the sort to make the first move.
‘Do it,’ he silently commanded. ‘Reach out and take what you want.’
Perhaps she heard him. Perhaps some other influence guided her hand, for she reached out to him, first touching his face, then his neck.
Xane braced one hand against the glass wall to maintain his balance, and then let his other hand wander. Each tentative caress, he imagined Dani making. She remained timid, but he liked her caution. She seemed eager to explore his body and to discover its secrets, rather than immediately zeroing in on his cock as though it were his only erogenous zone like