say that on air?” setting off a flurry of activity from the panel operator.
At rival station Nera, she auctioned off backstage passes for charity and accepted a challenge to sing a cappella. Jake was amazed at the sound of her husky, honey warm voice, unaccompanied except by hoots of approval from the two announcers. Instead of screaming lyrics as she usually did on stage, her sound was raw and achy, sexy as hell. He wished she sang like that more often. She’d reached into his body and kick started a fever.
When they arrived at 98.2 FM, they found the drive time program manager in a flap because Jonathan Bennett’s interview had run over. Jonathan saw them through the glass wall of the booth and waved madly at Rielle. He said into his mic, “Well look what the cat dragged in. Rielle Mainline, and I guess I’m keeping her waiting. Ooh aren’t I naughty.”
Rielle snorted. She gave Jonathan the finger. “He’s such a jerk.”
Jonathan said, “Oh listeners, if only you could see what she just did. She made a very rude gesture at me.”
“I saw that,” said the announcer. “It was rude.”
Jake watched Rielle glaring at Jonathan. “I thought you liked him.” He tried to sound nonchalant, knowing he had a chance to at least look that way, as he leant against the booth wall.
“I tried.” Rielle folded her arms. “A big mouth and a Mick Jagger swagger just ain’t gonna do it.”
Jake snorted a laugh. Jonathan might move like Jagger but he crashed and burned like Billy Idol.
In the booth Jonathan said, “Oh she doesn’t look happy does she?”
“No, she does not. You’re getting me into big trouble,” said the announcer.
“I don’t think he’s going to shift anytime soon.” Jake said, as Jonathan started talking to a fan who’d called in. Jonathan nattered away, but kept looking over his shoulder at Rielle as if to say, “Aren’t I just outrageous. You have to love me”.
“Maybe we should give him something to watch,” she said. She moved to his side.
“What?” He turned to look at her, expectation making him lose the nonchalance, making his senses fizz.
“How about this?” She put her hand up to his face, stretched up and kissed him.
Her lips were soft and warm, and plugged straight into the centre of his body where his fever for her had its power socket. When she pulled back, he said thickly, “I don’t think that was enough,” and she kissed him again, her hands around his neck and her hips pressed against him.
If that first kiss was about sticking it to Jonathan, the second one was tougher glue. It wasn’t playful, made for showing off—it was hungry, fired from lust. Not something you could walk away from. Jake wasn’t walking, he was sticking. He folded his arms around Rielle, spreading his fingers across her back and took that kiss from fever to full blown disease.
Rielle had itched to touch Jake since she’d seen him in the hotel foyer looking all sex-god in slightly dressier clothes than he wore on the set. He had an effortless charm about him, rocking boy next door with calendar hunk and unaware of the effect that blending ‘what you see is what you get’ and drop-dead gorgeous had. Sitting beside him in the back of the car had made her twitchy with wanting him. But he’d seemed so unaffected, so self-contained and in control, she’d been afraid to brush against him for fear of annoying him.
Jonathan’s show-boating had been enough of a catalyst to galvanise her to act. But she’d half expected Jake to laugh her off, push her away, and she was ready to pretend she was just playing around to get at Jonathan to save face. But when he opened his mouth to hers and bit her lip gently, she knew she didn’t need to pretend anything. He was there in this, with her all the way.
“Wanna get out of here?” he murmured, his voice so lust drugged it was like a throaty purr.
She dragged her thumb across his bottom lip to wipe off purple lipstick.
He said, “What, not my colour?” and gave a throaty chuckle.
“Let’s go.” She took his hand, looking back at Jonathan who wore an expression of bewilderment, and the announcer who was making frantic waving gestures to try to get her to stay. She flipped them off and dragged Jake past the open mouthed program manager and a blushing receptionist.
In the empty elevator, Jake said, “We probably shouldn’t.” He was