Authors: Susan Scott Shelley
Captivated (7 page)
“Champ. No. Down.” He
pulled back, touching his lip. “I’m sorry. Are you okay?”
“Fine.” Or she would be,
as soon as her heartbeat stopped galloping.
Champ jumped off the
couch, nosed a rubber ball until it bumped Dom
’s foot, then
barked again.
Laughing, Irisa shifted
against the cushion.
“He wants to play.”
“See what I mean about
the timing?” Dom kept his arm around her as he tossed the ball to the opposite
side of the room. Champ lunged for it, knocking into a leather recliner. He
bounded back with the ball, ready for more. It was easy to see he loved Dom,
and the feeling was mutual. They played for a few minutes, until the ball
became wedged under the recliner. Champ whined and pawed at the chair.
“Hold on, buddy.” Dom
rose to rescue the toy.
The absence of his body
chilled her skin, and knocked reason into her brain. Her reaction to Dom scared
her a little. After going for so long without any real interest in anyone, the
chemistry between them was overwhelming. She didn
’t like that she
lost her head so quickly, or that a large part of her craved feeling his lips
and his touch again. Irisa sat up straight, finger-combing her hair. “I should
probably go. It’s getting late.”
He looked disappointed,
but didn
’t
push her to stay. “I’ll walk you down.”
“It’s one floor away.
I’ll be fine.”
He shook his head.
“I’m
curious which side of my apartment you’re under. I’ll go.”
When she stood and walked
to the door, the dog followed.
“Looks like he wants to come, too.”
“Of course he does.” Dom
smiled, then grabbed a leash from a hook by the door. “But don’t say the
W-A-L-K word. Otherwise, I won’t be able to get him to calm down. I’m hoping
one lap of the sixteenth floor will be enough for him.”
During the brief elevator
ride, she thought about kissing him again. He was near enough, and the way he
was looking at her suggested he wanted it, too. Their arms brushed as they
walked to her door. She paused, keys in hand. Invite him in, or no? He was so
strong and tall and kissably close. As much as she wanted to prove her own
resolve, she wasn
’t quite ready to say good night. “I had a
good time tonight.”
“Me too. There’s just…one
thing…” His gaze landed on her mouth. His thumb brushed across her lips seconds
before his mouth crashed down.
Her eyes fluttered
closed. Warm lips tasting of wine coaxed hers apart. She leaned into him and
grabbed fistfuls of his shirt to anchor herself. His fingers glided over her
shoulders and then firm hands caressed her back.
Champ barked and jumped
up on them. Tail wagging, the dog whined and pawed at their arms.
“Champ, down.” After the
dog obeyed, Dom smoothed Irisa’s dress straps and bodice into place. “I should
go before his nails rip your dress or mark your skin. Next time, I’m leaving
him at home.”
She wanted him to stay.
But she didn
’t want to make a mistake. Or move too fast. “Maybe
give me a call from the road.”
“I will.” With a final
kiss, he stepped aside, drawing his dog with him.
“Good luck in your game
tomorrow. I’ll be watching.”
“Yeah? Then I’ll make
sure to get a home run for you.”
She reluctantly closed
the door behind him, more certain than before that she was in over her head
with him.
Jayne sat by her side,
sipping tea and watching the California landscape roll by.
“Is
there anything I can do?”
Relinquishing control was
hard, but necessary.
“Can you double-check the hotel bookings?”
“Already done.
Everything’s good.”
“Awesome. You can send
out promos for the upcoming concerts.” She passed her a sheet of paper. “Here’s
the usernames and passwords for all of our accounts. I’ll email you the promos.
Just copy and paste them and send them out.”
“Sure.”
Having the extra set of
hands, eyes, and brain relieved her of half the list. She turned back to her
screen and task of lining up a few more radio interviews for the cities tagged
onto the end of the tour. She pulled up her list of contacts.
“Irisa?” Jayne tapped her
arm. “Do the guys handle their own social media pages?”
She leaned back and
stretched her arms overhead.
“Everyone except Zander. He always
forgets, so I take care of his. Why?”
Jayne tilted her laptop
screen toward her.
“Luke responded to a fan’s complaint on
the band’s page, and shared it on his own page too. The notification just
popped up. It’s a little, uh, blistering.”
Blistering wasn
’t
good. Blistering brought two words to mind—damage control. Irisa read the rant
and winced. Rampant with expletives, the rant questioned the fan’s musical
background and dropped insults right and left. “Delete it.”
When Jayne
’s
fingers fumbled, Irisa grabbed the computer and took it down herself. “You said
it’s on his own page, too?”
At Jayne
’s
nod, she jumped to her feet. Voices sounded from the bus’s back room. She
wrenched the door open. Zander and Luke sat on opposite sides of the space. Her
brother held his guitar. Luke held his laptop.
“Take down your post. You
can’t say things like that.”
“Did you read what that
guy said about our last show? Saying I sounded like crap live and that I really
can’t sing, and the only reason I’m a singer is because of some, quote,
recording engineer’s studio magic, unquote. I can’t have that.”
“Take it down. You don’t
want that getting re-shared and going viral. You’re not going to win a social
media fight. It’s only going to make you and the band look bad.”
“But—”
“You have a thousand
posts from fans saying how much they love you guys. You can’t let a few
internet trolls get to you.”
Zander nodded and
strummed his guitar.
“Dude, just take it down.”
“How would you feel if
they said you can’t really play guitar, and that the only reason you sound good
is thanks to an engineering whiz behind the scenes?”
“That would suck,” her
brother acknowledged with a smile. “And you might take that one a little personally,
sis.”
“I take them all
personally because you guys are all like my brothers, but you have to temper
your responses. Nothing says you can’t vent to me or the guys.” She crossed to
Luke. “Take. It. Down.”
“Fine.”
“Now.” She sat beside
him, because if she didn’t, he wouldn’t get around to doing it. The post had
garnered a few comments of outraged fans sticking up for him.
He muttered a curse but
deleted the post.
“Happy?”
The roiling in her
stomach eased.
“Yes.”
Brendan wandered in.
“What’s
going on?”
“Social media etiquette.”
“Crap. Was I supposed to
do something on my page?”
“No. You’re good.”
Luke pointed to him.
“What
would you do if troll took a crack at your drumming skills?”
“Last time, I used my
laptop as a drum. Stupid move, but better than letting those kinds of people
see that what they said got to me. And Landry gets his revenge in some song
lyrics.”
She laughed.
“So,
that’s where he got the idea for ‘My Fist, Your Face’?”
“Yeah.”
Luke still didn
’t
look happy, but what else could she say? She left the guys and returned to her
seat by Jayne. “Thanks for pointing that out to me.”
“Is everything okay now?”
“I hope so. If you
wouldn’t mind monitoring his pages, I’d appreciate it.” Putting aside work for
a moment, she opened her browser and went to the Riptide’s site. A photo of Dom
filled the screen. She couldn’t stop the smile spreading across her face.
“How was your date with
him?”
“It wasn’t a date. Not
really.”
“Where did you go?”
“His place.”
“Oh.” Jayne stretched the
word over several syllables.
“No. It wasn’t like that.
You know me.” Irisa turned back to the screen. Her eyes followed the line of
his body. “It was nice.”
“Nice?”
“I met his dog, we had
some wine, and then he kissed me breathless.”
“That sounds better than
just nice.”
“It was.” She closed the
window and returned to her list. After the last romance had blown up in her
face, sharing details of whatever was happening between her and Dom almost
seemed like tempting fate.
San
Francisco
’s ballpark was nicer than the Riptide’s, but their
mascot, Honk the Seal, had nothing on Liam. Dom sat in the dugout, next to
Slade, his roommate on the road, comparing notes. Scouting for their buddy and
reporting back on other mascots’ antics and athletic feats made it seem like
Liam was there with them.
“Was that two backflips,
or three?” Slade passed him the bag of sunflower seeds.
Dom dug out a handful.
“Two.
Liam doesn’t need to worry about that shark bait showing him up during the
All-Star Game.”
“Look, there’s The Fury.”
“Where?” Dom whipped his
head toward the crowd. Too late, he remembered that Irisa and the band weren’t
in San Francisco.
“The screen. On the
screen. Just their tour dates, man.” Slade poked him in his side. “Is something
going on with you and Irisa? I can’t believe she’s your freaking neighbor.”
“I definitely picked the
right building to live in. We’re up.” He stood, grabbed his mitt, and followed
his teammates on to the field.
Nine innings, a walk, two
runs, and an error later, he celebrated a Riptide win, then headed back to the
hotel. After a drink with the guys at the hotel bar, he made his way to his
room. Irisa had been on his mind all day. He wanted to talk to her but maybe he
should hold off. His last relationship had been a nightmare. He
’d
thought of Irisa too much for her to only be a casual fling. But as he paused
over her name in his contact list, his dad called in.
Better
get it over with.
“Hi, Dad.”
“What were you looking at
tonight when you bobbled the ball? That should’ve been an easy catch.”
He listened, murmured or
grunted agreement at the appropriate times, and then ended the call as soon as
he could. His anger rose and swirled, hot in his gut. His dad had never managed
to break into the majors, but he always,
always
had criticism for how
Dom played and tips for how he could improve.
Prowling the room, he
couldn
’t
cage his energy. He wanted someone to talk to, some sort of distraction. But
Slade wasn’t back yet. And Adam was secluded in his own room with Gemma. The
pang of loneliness hit fast and unexpected.
He couldn
’t
stop thinking about Irisa. He dialed her number.
“Hello?” Her sexy voice
came through the line. Immediately, his body tightened.
“Hey, how’s my favorite
manager?”
“I’m your favorite
manager?”
“Well, my favorite sure
isn’t the loudmouth who rides our bench.”
Her laughter flowed
across the line.
“In that case, thanks. Congrats on your
win today.”
“Did you see the game?”
He sat on the edge of the bed.
“I listened to the last
few innings on the way to the hotel tonight and I listened to the post-game show,
too. And I’m angry about the way some of the callers blamed you for one of the
runs. So you made an error—so what? Musicians hit wrong notes sometimes. People
shouldn’t be so mean. You guys still won the game. I was going to call the
radio station and tell them that, but Zander told me to hold off.”
He smiled as she defended
him. The words a balm to his frustration.
“I appreciate that. By
the way, the electronic billboard over the outfield featured your tour dates a
few times during the game.”
“That’s a nice stadium.
We’ve played a few shows there. Wait, my band distracted you during the game?”
“No distractions from
playing, but it was nice to look up and be reminded of you.” Nice to think
about her, and that kiss, and how perfectly she’d fit in his arms.
“How’s Champ doing? Have
you heard from Liam?”
“He sent me a video of
Champ and Bear—that’s Adam’s dog—eating breakfast this morning.”
“Aww.”
“Yeah, so what are you
doing now?” He wandered the room, stepping over Slade’s clothes and the room
service tray.
“I’m in my hotel room, at
the desk, trying to reschedule an interview and meet-and-greet for the band and
come up with ways to make sure Zander and Luke don’t kill each other.” Her
laugh seemed forced.
“That’s right. You did
say you felt like you were babysitting them when we first met.”
“We’ve been touring or
recording nonstop for years. It’s too much togetherness. We all really need a
break, and instead, we get eight weeks of touring Cali. The stress and strain
will be worth it if the new album goes platinum.” She stifled a yawn.
Green numbers glowed from
the alarm clock, clicking from very late night to very early day.
“It’s
midnight. You need to get some sleep.”
“I have to finish up
these things first.”
He knew how hard sleeping
on the road could be—endless strings of different hotels and beds and messed up
body clocks.
“You’re going to wear yourself out.”
“I’ll be fine. I’ve been
doing this for”—she yawned again—“years.”
All the more reason to
stop.
“If
I were there, I’d make you take a break.”
“You think so, hmm? What
would you do?” Her voice softened.
Really? Countless images
flashed through his mind.
“Get into bed and I’ll tell you.”
Shuffling sounds echoed
back, then her voice, breathless and soft.
“Okay, I’m in bed.”
He stretched out across
his mattress.
“The first thing I’d do is massage your shoulders. I’m
sure they’re tight. I’d work out the tension there and in your neck.”
“Mmm. That would feel
good. Then what?”
“Then I’d rub your back.
Loosen the muscles stiff from sitting hunched over your desk.” The picture came
to him, crystal clear. Her, lying on a soft bed, wrapped in white sheets, while
he straddled her and worked his magic. Her muscles would go lax under his
hands. He could almost feel her skin against his palms.
“When would you kiss me?
I keep thinking about you kissing me.”
Heat flowed south, hot
and hard. His fantasy Irisa flipped over on that mattress, and he devoured her.
“I’d
do that as soon as I saw you. That’s all I’ve thought about since I walked away
from your door. But once I’d relaxed you, I’d wrap you in my arms and kiss you
until we were both straining for more.”
Her breath hitched.
“Would
you lie down with me?”
“Oh, yeah.” His voice
pitched low. His body reacted like she was right there, gliding against his
skin.
“Would you let me fall
asleep holding you?”
“All night if you
wanted.” And then they could start all over again in the morning.
“I wish you were here.”
He smiled and turned
toward the spot next to him on the mattress, where she
’d
fit so perfectly. “Me too.”
“I could fall asleep
right now.”
“You should. Let me stay
right here with you. Just lie back, close your eyes, and picture everything we
talked about. My hands on your skin, my mouth on your lips, and my body wrapped
around you.”
“You’d feel so warm.” Her
sleepy voice drifted lower.
“And you’re so soft. Let
me pull your closer.” He paused, seeing it in his mind. Soft breaths came
through the speaker. “Irisa?”