Jersey Six - Jewel E Ann Page 0,52

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“Where to now?” Jersey asked as they piled in the SUV after taping the podcast.

“The venue for the sound check. And then you’ll clock in and explain to Dani where you’ve been all day. And your coworkers will hate you. So there’s that fun.” Max glanced back at Jersey as Shane gunned it out of the parking lot.

With a solid fifty-fifty chance of killing everyone’s favorite rock star, Jersey wasn’t concerned about winning any popularity contest. When they got to the venue, Jersey started to walk in the direction of the long line of tour buses, but Ian grabbed her hand and pulled her in the opposite direction.

“I have to work.”

“You will. In a bit.” He pulled her into the building as Shane led the way and Max followed behind them.

Their locked hands drew a few lingering glances from some of the crew as they made their way to the lower level and the green room. “Hey.” Ian greeted his bandmates, who were in their usual spots, playing video games.

They returned their half-interested greetings, not giving Jersey more than a quick glance and polite nod as Ian pulled her to a sofa back in the corner of the room. Ian shut off the lamp next to it, giving the corner a feeling of privacy compared to the rest of the room.

He opened a bottle of water and drank half of it. Then he handed it to Jersey. She stared at it for a few seconds before taking it from him and drinking the rest.

“You didn’t even the score today. I’m a little disappointed.” He plopped on the sofa and leaned back, propping his feet up on the opposite end.

Jersey returned a nervous laugh, setting the bottle on the small table next to the sofa. “Well, we were never alone.”

“That’s my life.” He held out his hand.

After a few seconds of hesitation, she rested her hand in his. He pulled on her until she stumbled into the sofa, landing on top of him.

“You have to get creative,” he whispered as her face hovered over his face, the ends of her ponytail brushing his cheek.

She swallowed the rush of anxiety that came with her body pressed to his. “You have sound check.”

“In forty-five minutes.” His gaze swept along her face.

“I have to help set up the merchandise stands.”

“Someone else can do it.”

“I could get fired.”

Ian grinned. “Then your boss is a dick.”

Jersey didn’t want to smile, because no matter how much she tried to convince herself to treat Ian like an opponent, like the enemy, she couldn’t stop herself from liking the way he looked at her or the way she craved his next move—his next touch.

Not giving a second thought to the onlookers, she brushed her lips over his mouth, baiting him while slowly torturing herself. He took the bait, lifting his head up just enough to capture her lips.

He kissed her with a patience she didn’t expect. That was his strength, giving her a hook when she expected a jab. Throwing her off balance. Making her question her true intentions. Jumbling thoughts. Casting doubt.

“Coop,” she whispered between kisses, “I like kissing you.”

He grinned against her lips. “Say that again.” Ian teased her bottom lip with his tongue.

She flicked her tongue out to meet his. “I like kissing you, Coop.”

Ian rolled them onto their sides, pinning her back to the sofa as he kissed her harder but still slowly. He bent his top leg, wedging it between her legs as his hand slid down her hip, guiding her top leg over him until they were scissored, a tangled mess of limbs.

His hand drifted from her hip to her face where his thumb brushed her cheek before he stroked her hair.

Jersey pulled back, a little out of breath. “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?” His brow wrinkled.

“Stroke my hair.”

“You’re stroking my hair.”

And she was. The slightly curled fingers of her left hand combed through his dark hair in slow strokes, even as he brought it to her attention.

“Don’t stroke my hair,” she repeated on a soft whisper as her gaze focused on her hand moving on its own accord through his hair.

Ian closed his eyes, stilling both of his hands. His lips parted and he sighed softly as she continued to do the exact thing to him that she forbid him to do to her. After studying every curve of his face, including the exact spot high on his cheeks where his long eyelashes rested, she let her eyes close and her