A Valentine Duet Page 4

  “I don’t hate you. I’d need to actually consider you worth at least something to warrant me hating you. So, no Tom, I don’t hate you.” She smiled sweetly in his face, even daring herself to lean forward until her face was inches away from his. “I think you are a pig and an asshole, true. But I don’t hate you.” Line delivered, she sat back down and waited for the teasing reply she knew she was sure to hear. And was surprised to see a solemn look on his face.

  “You are still mad about the Addy deal, aren’t you?”

  “No I’m not,” she denied swiftly.

  “Yes, you are. And maybe I can’t blame you, she really is the best at what she does. But I figured that after what she told you, you would at least let go of the animosity, maybe see a way where we can at least try to pretend to like each other.”

  Elena frowned at him, wondering if he was trying to play a prank on her. Then she shrugged her shoulders, “I don’t have any problems with you. As far as I am concerned, we’re cool.”

  “Really?” He smiled now, an accusatory smile that called her out on her lie. “You barely said anything to me for the whole of yesterday. One whole day in this bus and you didn’t say more than ten, maybe twenty words. Looks to me like you still have problems with me.”

  “Think what you like, I don’t care. I don’t have any problems with you, and I’m not in the habit of talking when I don’t have anything to say. Besides, I don’t see why you are complaining. Don’t tell me you miss being the center of attention or can’t handle the fact that a woman exists who doesn’t give a crap about you.”

  He studied her for a few seconds, still sort of smiling. But not really smiling. “She came to me you know, Addy. She came to me and offered her services,” he said and Elena stared at him, not believing a word he was saying. “I mean, I knew she was working for you. But she told me what she wanted and I said yes because I would have been a fool to say no. At that point in my career, I needed her more than you did. And I’ll apologize for betraying you like that, but in the end, Elena, you have to realize that she came to me.”

  Elena stared at him, unblinking, her world rocked to the core of its foundation. She had hated him because all along she knew he had tempted Addy away from her, stole her publicist. Now she was hearing different, and she knew that for all his bad habits, Tom never lied. He was capable of doing some very bad things. But lying was not one of them. But even more than that, he was apologizing. Elena had always wondered what she would do if Tom ever apologized to her for what he did. The fantasies themselves harmless, because she knew there was no way he would ever be humble enough to say sorry. In her fantasies, she would laugh at him as he begged for her forgiveness. On his knees, of course. It was her fantasy and she found she quite liked the image of him on his knees.

  But now that he had really given her an apology of sorts, Elena was confused as to what to do. She looked up to see him watching her and tilted her lips in a small smile.

  He returned the smile and then added, “I’m not saying you should forgive me or we should be like best chums or something. I’m just asking that we at least try to be civil to each other.”

  She looked at him, still suspecting he was trying to pull a prank on her. “I can do that,” she finally said. “I can try to be civil with you. Besides, no way we can be best chums. I don’t think I’m ready to be exposed to your particular brand of corruption just yet.”

  He threw back his head and laughed, and immediately Elena was reminded by how close they were. His knees brushed against hers and she was resting just inches away from the arm he placed around the couch. He looked down at her, and Elena felt her heart beat thrice at fast and her throat went dry.

  “You have the worst opinion of me, don’t you?”

  “It’s not an opinion if it is true,” she said, slowly crossing her legs to put some distance between them.

  “So what is the truth then?” he asked, her leaning in and eating up the space she had just created.

  “That you are a playboy,” she arched an eyebrow at him. “Can’t say I blame you, all those women throwing themselves at you. How can you say no?”

  “So you buy into all that media nonsense?” he asked, still smiling. “Would think that you of all people would know better than to believe a word those people say.”

  “What people? I don’t need anyone to tell me something that I have seen with my own eyes over and over again.”

  “Well, it’s not like you are a blushing bride either. Besides, I get the feeling you blow way hotter than you pretend to do.”

  She laughed out loud at that, hitting him playfully in the arm. “What does that even mean?”

  “I don’t know,” he replied cryptically before continuing. “So how has touring with me been so far?”

  “Great actually,” she replied honestly. “Your fans are some of the best crowds I’ve ever performed in front of, ever.”

  “Well, some of them are your fans too.”

  “I know. Still nice to hear the crowds screaming your name out there.”

  Elena went quiet at that, then she replied more quietly. “Yes, I guess it is.” Then she brightened up, “Not that you are doing rather badly yourself, judging by the number of people I see hanging around your tour bus after every show. And by people, I mean ladies.” She waggled her eyebrow playfully.

  “Oh, that,” he mumbled, smiling brightly and averting his eyes.

  “Hey, he is blushing. That’s kind of shocking.”

  “Very funny,” he said. Then he sat up and looked at her. “You really think I do it, don’t you?”

  “Do what?”

  “Sleep with my fans?”

  Elena was about to respond with something funny, then she stopped as she noticed the look on his face. “I don’t know, Tom. Yes, maybe. I mean, I don’t think it is that big a deal or anything, you know.” She tried to dismiss the topic, suddenly uncomfortable with it. “I mean, I’m not like saying you should do it, not saying you shouldn’t either,” she quickly added, then clamped her mouth shut.

  “Guess you do then, but don’t worry. Just teasing you,” he said, his eyes filled with humor once again and Elena subconsciously breathed a sigh of relief. She could deal with funny Tom. Serious Tom was just a bit above her, though.

  “Very funny,” she drawled, throwing his words back in his face. “So, tell me the funniest thing that has ever happened to you involving one of your groupies.”

  “Groupies?” He looked at her with one eyebrow raised and a largely exaggerated look of insult on his face.

  Elena laughed, making a face of her own. “Okay, one of your lady fans, if you prefer.”

  “Well, I do prefer.” He leaned back deeply on the couch and Elena found herself leaning in so she could hear him talk, her eyes distractingly taking in the thick curl of his eyelashes, the lips that seemed to offer so much that she wanted but would never let herself have.

  “Let me see.” Tom tapped the side of his head, eyes cast to the ceiling in thought. Then he smiled at her. “Well, there was this one time. I had just finished a show, did the whole razzmatazz of shaking hands and signing things. I was tired as hell, just wanted to get to my bus and drop dead on my bed. Maybe get a bite of pizza to eat before. Then I walk into the bus and there is this redhead in my kitchen. I mean, gorgeous redheaded woman. But she was in my kitchen, in my tour bus that is supposed to be guarded at all times.”

  “Damn, knew it was going to be a crazy woman story,” Elena smirked, so engrossed in him and his story that she leaned in even closer to him.

  “Well, I’m standing in my door, looking at this woman with an apron tied around her waist and thinking about what the hell I was going to do. But even more, I was tired and hungry and definitely not relishing the fact that I had to call for security to come in and boot her out, right?”

  “Right,” Elena repeated, nodding her head.

  “Then she turned around and that was when I smelled it. Bacon, I mean real homemade bacon and not
that crap I always get when I am on the road. I’m looking at her confused, wondering what the hell was happening. That is when she turned around and told me she had been expecting me. ‘Grab a seat,’ she says. And when I did, she served me what I would have to admit was and still is the best meal I ever ate on the tour bus.”

  “She did, didn’t she?” Elena mumbled, wondering why she was not really happy at that picture.

  “Yes, and get your mind out of the gutter. All we did was talk, which I know is bad and dangerous. I mean, what if she was a stalker or something like that? But she didn’t, just sat with me and we talked about a whole bunch of shit as I ate. Then when I was done eating, she told me she really loved my music and then left. Well, she gave me a small peck on my forehead before she did, but considering how great that food was, trust me I was willing to do more than that.” He looked at her, humor in his eyes. “I still look for her at all my shows, you know?”

  “And have you ever seen her?” Elena asked, with a smile on her face.

  “No, never.” He looked at her. “So how is that for a crazy fan story?”

  “Really crazy, and should still add kind of dangerous. But I have to admit that it was really funny too.” She was quiet for a bit, then she mumbled quietly. “I can’t cook.”

  “What?” he asked, having heard what she said but trying to figure out what she meant by it.

  “I am very bad at cooking,” Elena replied, not knowing exactly why she said it, but still saying it nevertheless. “And by that, I mean that I burn everything. Hell, I could probably mess up boiling an egg.”

  “We can’t be great at everything we do, Elena, and with that voice of yours, you were bound to have a failing somewhere.” He smiled at her, uncharacteristically reaching out to squeeze her knee. The feeling of his skin against hers sent a tingling sensation through her body. But it was the indirect compliment that had her cheeks glowing red as she stared up at him.

  “Thanks,” she said. Then the two of them were staring at each other, wondering how the hell they had gotten so close in the space of their discussion. Elena had leaned in so close to Tom that her thighs now brushed against his, her chest just inches away from his. She blinked twice as she stared at his lips. She felt his hands around her shoulders and wondered how they had gotten here. Then the solid expanse of his chest beneath her palms had her wondering when she had placed them there.

  Then he moved. Or maybe she was the one who did. It was hard to tell, but they were kissing now and Elena couldn’t think about anything else. There was no audience around them this time, no moon and sun above them. His lips closed around hers and he sucked gently, the taste of him driving her crazy, driving her to want more and she fisted her hand in his shirt even as she drove herself onto him until she was lying halfway on top of him. She pushed her tongue into his mouth and moaned when she tasted him in her mouth. His hand fisted in her hair and he pulled as he kissed her back. Her hands went beneath his shirt to feel the smooth and rock hard expanse of his chest. Her hand brushed his nipples and she smiled appreciatively when he gave a small gasp of pleasure. She felt him reach between them for the small clasp of her shorts and raised herself up to let him.

  Then they both jolted as the bus hit a large bump and she was thrown halfway off him. Elena reared back and looked at him, his shirt rumpled, his lips wet from her kiss. The window across from her showed her with hair disheveled and lips full and wet. She glanced down at him and saw the question in his eyes. Gasping loudly, she jumped up and fled into the bedroom. As she closed the curtains, she glared at him and then declared in a very loud whisper, “We are never talking about this, ever.”

  The small taunting smile on his face was the last thing she saw right before the curtain fell closed.

  Chapter 7

  Tom kept the smile on his face long enough for the curtain to fall, then he turned around and punched the arm of the couch hard, cursing as he did so. He had no idea what had happened. He had been telling her about the crazy cook in his bus one moment, and in the next moment her lips were on his, her breasts pushing against his chest and they were kissing. It was the best darn kiss he had ever had in his life, and that it came from the morally uppity Elena was shocking. Even more shocking was the fact that for the first time in his life, someone had managed to make him lose control.

  ‘Never talking about it’. He scoffed at that, like he would ever want to relive the experience. Grabbing his guitar and strumming it distractedly, he couldn’t help but wonder why those James Blunt lines were the only ones on his mind. You know, the lines he sang in that song about a beautiful woman he saw in a crowded the place.

  Shaking his head, he told himself it was just a fluke. Maybe at the next stop, he’d go out to clear his head. Visit a club or something. Nodding his head, he told himself that was what he was going to do. Best way to get a woman out of your head was to get another one in it, or any part of your body actually. It was just kind of annoying that Elena was in his head to begin with. Really annoying.

  Elena punched her pillow in frustration. Then lifted it and placed it above her heard as the sound of Tom singing and playing his guitar just outside her door drifted towards her. He had a beautiful voice and the truth was that it was not his singing that had her so frustrated. It was the kiss they had shared, and while she wanted to blame him for it she knew she was just equally at fault. She could have stopped him before it got too far. But she had been just as curious as he apparently was.

  There was a small break in his song and just when she thought he was done for the night he launched into another song. Cursing, she stood up and stalked out of the room. Walking to him, she grabbed the guitar that sat comfortably between his legs and threw it on the couch.

  “What the hell did you do that for?” he demanded in a voice that would otherwise have made her pause at the very least.

  But Elena was beyond thinking rationally. “In case you're blind and can’t see, it’s late and I need to sleep.”

  He stared up at her. “You better return my guitar to my hand or I swear you’ll be taking its place and it would be hand delivering the spanking you seem to really want this night.”

  Elena gasped as she heard his words. Then she placed her hands on her hips and lean close to him so she was staring him in the face. “You dare....”

  In a flash he had her over his legs, her palms falling to the floor to support her waist as her ass rested above his legs. Elena eyes widened in shock, not ready to believe what he had just done. Or that he had the guts to even put his hands on her.

  The sound of his palm smacking her ass silenced those thoughts and she yelped out, more in surprise than pain. He didn’t stop at one but delivered five more successful smacks to her cotton covers bottoms, one hand placed on her back to hold her back.

  Then he let go of her and Elena scrambled to her feet, staring at him and breathing hard.

  “You spanked me,” she exclaimed in disbelief.

  Tom got to his feet, matching her breathe for breathe as he stared at her. He opened his mouth to say something. Then clamped it shut as he whirled around and walked out. Elena watched him leave, still too shocked to do anything. It wasn’t until she heard him ride off did she look down and realized she was wet.

  Chapter 8

  Elena stared into the mirror, cotton wool in her hand and stripped down to her underwear. She slowly cleaned makeup off her face, humming a beat as she did. She was happy. Partly because the show had been great, but mostly because Tom was finally going back to his tour bus. The first morning after that whole debacle had been kind of awkward, but he had sort of apologized. Plus Elena had reminded herself she was not a fourteen year old teenager who just had her first kiss. It had been a little bit hard convincing herself there was nothing weird in him spanking her. But she had sat in bed for the better part of the morning wondering and seeing no way around it. In the end she decided if he didn’t bring it up she wasn’t going to. So she had gotten up from her bed and walked outs
ide to meet Tom playing a slow tune on his guitar. He simply looked up at her and gave her a small smile, no indication whatsoever that just a few hours ago, those fingers had been about to…

  After that, they had sort of a great time, talking about a lot of things and Elena discovered that Tom could be really funny. As in laugh until she rolled on the floor funny which is something he made her do. He also taught her a few notes on his guitar, which was a little bit awkward when he needed to put his hands around her to show her how to pluck the strings. But in the end, it had been really fun for both of them. And she couldn’t wait for him to get the hell out.

  His very presence was grating on her nerves and not in a bad way, but in a good way. A good way which was bad because it was the kind of good she needed to stay away from. He didn’t make a single move on her, but Elena found herself wishing that he did; maybe it would have been better that way. Then she could get what she wanted and still blame him for it. All night, she tossed and turned in her bed, reminding herself of all the reasons she could not walk out right now and join him on the couch. Just wrap her hands around his bare chest, and she knew he slept shirtless because she had gone out for a drink of water and had to tiptoe past his half-naked form on her way to the fridge. It was one temptation she almost gave in to. So yes, she was going to be really happy to see him go, she told herself.

  Then the door opened and she jumped up in her seat, turning around to see Tom walk into her bus, his shirt still a bit wet from the sweat of jumping up and down on the stage. He dropped his guitar case on the couch and then looked up at her. That was when Elena remembered she was in the lace and mesh bustier she had worn under her dress for the show. Squealing, she grabbed a towel from the side of the chair and covered herself, watching as Tom turned sharply around.