“What housewarming gift?” Annie asked.
“It’s a grown-up thing,” Jo said. Annie didn’t need toknow about the black and white boudoir photographs Jo had arranged for Kyla to take of Chelsea to celebrate she and Miles moving in together.
“Is that Princess Annie?” Nico appeared at the door to the rehearsal room, his hair held back with a sweatband, his t-shirt soaked through and sticking to his chest.
Annie wrinkled her nose. “You’re all sweaty.”
He chuckled. “Rehearsing is hard work.”
“You’re out of shape,” Beckett grunted as he walked past, lifting the hem of his t-shirt to wipe the sweat from his face, revealing the colorful tattoos stretching across his toned chest. “Hi, Annie.”
He waved over Jo’s shoulder and continued on his way. At the end of the hall he paused, his hand lingering on the doorknob of room Kat had commandeered as her office. He dropped his forehead to the door, stayed there for a few beats as his shoulders rose and fell with his labored breathing. Mumbling to himself, he took a step back, raking his hand through his hair, turned resolutely in the other direction, and stalked away, scowling.
Interesting.
Jo turned her attention back to the phone call. Whatever was going on with Beckett and Kat would have to wait.
“You’re going to love this show, kid. There are projections and all kinds of costumes,” Jo said.
“We’ll be there when the tour comes to Boston,” Chelsea promised. “But right now, we have to get going or we’ll miss the movie.”
They said their goodbyes and Jo nudged Nico with her elbow. “Take a selfie for me before you hop in the shower. The fans will eat it up.”
Nico rolled his eyes, but his grin gave him away. “How many shirtless selfies do the fans need?”
“At least one more,” she said as she walked backwards down the hall. “And get the other guys to do it too.”
“No way is Beckett sending you a thirst trap,” Nico called after her.
She flipped open her content calendar, plugging in the shirtless selfies on the grid for the following week when the band would be taking a well-deserved week off before launching into the new tour. She’d need to stockpile content to keep engagement high while they were away, but thankfullyall the guys had gotten better about sending her video clips and photos she could use when she wasn’t with them—well, all the guys except Beckett. But his reluctance to participate in social media only seemed to egg the fans on who raved about how mysterious the tattooed, broody musician was.
A sudden buzzing between her legs caught her off guard and Jo stumbled, pressing her hand against the wall as she swallowed her startled gasp. A quick glance over her shoulder confirmed she was alone—thankGod.This time her reaction had not been subtle. The buzzing intensified, pulsated three times, then stopped as abruptly as it had begun. She groaned, heat mingling with disappointment and the delicious anticipation of what was to come.
The buzzing began again, this time so intense she clapped a hand over her mouth to hide the cry that tore from her throat. She leaned against the wall, pressing her thighs together—mistake. The pressure only increased the sensation thrumming against her clit. She pressed her head back against the wall and fought for control as her orgasm barreled down on her. If he didn’t stop this soon—
Again, the toy turned off.
Damn him.
Jo released a breathy laugh, her thwarted pleasure dissolving into something slick and hot, an ache she knew would be glorious when at last Derek allowed her to come.
If only she could find him.
He hadn’t been in the rehearsal room with the band and he hadn’t been in the office he had set up at the far end of the studio space. That only left one place.
She practically sprinted down the hall towards the green room, her heels clacking against the cement floor and echoing in the deserted halls. The green room was dark when she pushed open the door, fading golden sunlight streaming between the blinds in orange streaks across the plush furniture as she scanned the room.
Three sharp pulses of the toy against her clit and her knees buckled. How high was the setting on this thing?
“Derek,” she moaned, steadying herself against the craft service table.
“Is something the matter, little menace?” His voice cut through the dark, all gravel and dark, liquid heat raising goosebumps along the back of her neck.
Another three pulses, the last one longer and harder than the others. And there—right there—she could almost taste it—
The buzzing stopped.
“You’ve been teasing me for hours,” she whined.