Breaking South (Turner Artist Rocker #3) - Alyson Santos Page 0,88
great idea a minute ago, quickly becomes dangerous as my body reacts to the magnificence of everything she is.
I shift on the bench, trying to put some space between us before she notices my arousal. So inappropriate. So inevitable and uncontrollable. I’m totally screwed when she catches on and chooses to torture me instead of helping a guy out. A low grunt rushes out as she slides back, pressing into me until I feel the sensual ache of every curve of her perfect backside. She must like it too when she wriggles against me, releasing a sigh that I don’t think was voluntary.
“I’ve missed you so much,” she whispers, her eyes still on the others who have completely forgotten about us at this point. “Four days is way too long not to see you. To touch you.”
She reaches behind her, and I hiss in a breath when she tugs the waistband of my suit. Her fingers slide over my skin just beneath it before sinking lower. And lower. And…
“Gen,” I groan. “What are you doing?”
“I know. Just for a second.” Her voice is strained, as charged as everything else about her as she touches me. She grips harder, tugging just enough to make me crazy. My head leans back in frustration, my fist clenching as hers forms around me. Her thumb rubs light circles in the very best—and worst—way.
“You’re literally killing me right now,” I growl at her ear. But once I’m there I don’t have a choice. I have to taste her skin. She moans as I sample her neck, sucking gently along the column until I reach her shoulder. Her touch intensifies, teasing me into a further rush of heat. Can we escape to the pool house? Just for a minute. Damn, it wouldn’t take long. Just enough to soothe the burn, to retaliate for her sneak attack.
“Ew! Oliver’s kissing a girl!” Eric shrieks, and Genevieve and I freeze. We look up to see all four of my siblings staring at us from the pool, and all I can do is thank the stars that the hot tub jets hid everything else.
“Mind your own business!” I shout back at him. “You want to help mom at the store instead?”
Eric’s look of horror almost makes the whole incident worth it while he climbs the stairs for another run at the slide. Camille is snickering as she encourages Emma and Lea to go back to playing as well. It’s actually kind of hilarious until my stomach drops at the thought of Genevieve. Will she be embarrassed? Hurt?
She lets me go with a snort laugh, then turns to face me. Gripping my hair, she pulls me toward her with a sly look. “To be continued,” she whispers before planting a solid kiss.
“So there really is a premiere of your music video?” I ask as Genevieve drags me toward the back stairs later that night.
“Yes! But it’s not a big deal. Joel isn’t even premiering it like you normally would. It’s actually already uploaded and live, but I want to see it. Hurry.”
I tug her to a stop at the base of the stairs. “Why do we have to watch in your room? Why not the main floor where everyone else can see it.”
She gives me a look like that should be obvious, but I continue to stare at her, confused.
“Um, because your family is here… they…” She stops, her gaze lowering in a way that triggers old frustration in me.
“Because they what?” I ask, my tone hardening.
Her eyes flicker up, and I soften slightly. Are we back to this? When is she going to understand how incredible she is?
“Nothing. I’ll watch it later. It’s fine,” she mumbles, tugging her hand away to head back toward the kitchen.
Oh hell no. “Gen, stop. Gen!”
But she doesn’t, and okay, now I’m just pissed. I don’t even know at who. Not her, I don’t think. The world again. Her parents. Her label. Her old life. All the forces that have taught her she can’t watch a damn video of herself in her own home without hiding. No more.
“This isn’t a video of Genevieve Fox. It’s Viv Hastings,” I say.
She stills in the corridor, her back to me, her fists clenched.
“Viv Hastings isn’t afraid to fight. She’s not afraid to show the world who she is. Show them, Viv. Show them.”
“But then they’ll know it’s me,” she returns, still not looking at me. She’s hiding again, and I hate it.