Not Another Line

6.Road Kill

Sultans of Swing // Dire Straits

My hand slides up the curve of her waist, touching bare skin. I'm heated, needy, and so is she judging from the little moan my touch elicits. My lips are on her neck, nuzzling under her ear when my fingers brush up against the underside of her breast.

"Oh." Her breathy voice hits my ear. I rub my thumb along the swell of soft skin, burning to touch her, feel her, everywhere.

"Clinton, more."

Two words I've been dying to hear spill from her lips. More. I'll give her so much more she'll be begging me to stop. More. I can absolutely handle more.

My heart pounds with the ideas running through my head. The desires. I've been holding them back for a year. Longer? I can't remember a time when I wasn't struggling with my need for her. I lean back to look into her eyes, the bluest eyes I've ever seen. But her eyes are closed. I can't see them.

"Open up, baby. Let me see."

"Clinton." Her voice is no longer laced with desperation for my touch. Now it sounds angry.

"What did I do?"

"Clinton!" She yells while some kind of banging rings in my ears. "Open up!"

"That's what I said. Open up." My brows wrinkle and I look at her again but it's not her. It's not Colleen. It's no one. She's gone.

"Open the door, Clinton!"

I sit up in a flash, looking around to get my bearings. The hotel room, not my place. I'm on tour, not at home. Not with Colleen.

Oh shit. I had a sex dream about Colleen. And it was the hottest fucking dream I've ever had until she disappeared. I rub a hand over my face, half trying to forget it ever happened and half trying to burn the images into my memory.

The pounding on the door pulls me out of my thoughts.

"Are you up? The new kid said you hadn't left your room yet."

I groan, throw the covers back and adjust my shorts to accommodate the remaining evidence from my dream.

"Hang on." I lumber to the door.

"Finally." Zack grouches at me as I swing the door open. He storms past me and orders the door shut.

"Tell me after I take a piss." I don't wait for his approval as I push past him into the bathroom.

"I'll tell you while you piss. Curt's here."

I do that slow head turn thing when you hear something that can't possibly be true.

"Curt?" I finish up and wash my hands as Zack confirms what he said.

"That's what I said. Curt. Randy got him in. Bastard. I knew that guy was bad fucking news. Never should have hired him. The asshole is down in the lobby with half the roadies having breakfast. He tried to get to Char's room but Jacob's hiding her out in Bree's suite."

I dry my hands and rub my face with cold water. No time for a cold shower so this will have to do. Although, hearing Curt's name pretty much zapped any desires that might have been remaining after the dream which will not be mentioned.

"Let me suit up and I'll go down there to kick him out."

"I don't want a scene. I don't want any publicity about this, Clinton."

I eye him. "When have I ever made a scene? I'm not going to touch him."

Zack takes a deep breath and nods. "Noted. I'm aware of your methods. But this can't happen again. Why were we caught off guard? You're supposed to know about this shit before it happens."