Maya Banks - Sweet Possession

Her heart thumped in her throat and she lay there so wound up and tense that her muscles ached. She hated this. Hated that being so close to Connor—in the same bed—made her so nervous she wanted to puke.

She forced her breathing to even out because even she could hear it stuttering past her lips. She gripped the covers protectively around her and huddled there, staring at the opposite wall.

She was never going to sleep.

“Connor?”

There was a brief pause. “Yeah?”

She gripped the covers a little tighter until her fingers went numb. “Why do you hate me so much?”

There was an uncomfortable pause. Then she felt him turn toward her on his side. She lay still, her fingers wrapped tightly around the sheet she held to her chin.

“I don’t hate you, Lyric.”

“You decided before you ever met me that you despised me. Nothing I do or say is going to change that.”

He sighed. “You didn’t exactly help your case when we met.”

“You looked at me like I was scum. No one is going to react well to that kind of judgment.”

“I don’t hate you,” he said again.

“You don’t like me either,” she said softly.

“I was a jerk tonight. I’ll be honest. I didn’t want this job. And you’re right. I had my mind made up about you before we ever met. That wasn’t . . . fair.”

“You’re wrong, you know.”

“About what?”

“I do take this seriously.”

Connor shifted again, and the next thing she knew, light flooded the room as he switched the lamp back on. She glanced over her shoulder to see him sit up in bed.

“Turn over so we can talk,” he said quietly.

She rolled and clutched one of the cushions between them to her chest.

“You need to consider the possibility that someone close to you is involved in this.”

She frowned. “But no one knows I’m here. I gave my band and my crew two weeks off. I was careful, Connor. I know you don’t think I was.”

“What about Paul? And your two . . . bodyguards?”

At least he hadn’t called them her fuck-buddies again. She sighed. Her head hurt. She wasn’t sure she’d ever gotten rid of the headache she’d had earlier.

“Lyric?”

“I think Paul knew too,” she said wearily. “And Trent and R.J. too. Don’t say it. I already feel like an idiot. But no one else knows. Or rather I didn’t tell anyone.”

“And you think the cops you introduced yourself to will keep your cover?”

She flushed and hugged the pillow a little tighter. “I was angry. You humiliated me.”

“Do you always react so outrageously when someone pisses you off?”

“Do you always allow people to get under your skin so badly?”

“Touché. So we’ve both reacted badly. I’m more at fault than you. This is a job. I’m supposed to be a professional. No matter how much you irritate me, it’s my job to keep cool and protect you.”

She glanced up, watching the soft glow of the lamp slide over his muscled shoulders. He had a great chest. He was a tall man. Lean but tightly muscled. Not in a bulging Neanderthal way, nor did he look like he worked out a bazillion times a week. But his body was tight and there wasn’t a spare ounce of flesh anywhere on his waist.

He had a great jaw. Firm and determined. Already he had a shadow of a beard that only made him look sexy in a scruffy, totally male way. He wasn’t pretty and polished.

He had a quiet arrogance that suggested he was comfortable in his skin and didn’t much give a damn what others thought. He wasn’t impressed by celebrity. He thought she was a spoiled jerk. He was right, but it still bothered her.

“Do I irritate you that much?”

He cracked a grin and glanced over at her. “Yeah. You do.”

The acknowledgment was more of a dry laugh at himself and the smile took the sting out of his words.

“We’re going to work this out,” he said. “Tomorrow I’m meeting with the firm your label hired. You’ll be surrounded by security at all times and I’m going to stick to you like glue for the next two weeks. If someone wants you, they’ll have to go through me.”

She took great comfort from the vow. It didn’t come across as a boast. There was complete and utter confidence in his voice, and his eyes sparked with determination.

She bit her lips and met his gaze again. “I know I’m not . . . easy.”

“No, you’re definitely not easy,” he said in a lazy voice. “But I can handle difficult.”

He reached over to touch her hair. It was a simple brush. He didn’t even make contact with her skin, but an electric sensation snaked all the way through her body.

“You should get some rest,” he said. “You’re exhausted and you’ve had a headache all day.”

She grimaced. “I won’t sleep.”

One of his eyebrows went up in question. “Why not?”

She looked away and clutched the covers to her chin again.

“Lyric?”

His voice gentled and there was a soothing lilt to the way he said her name.

“You make me nervous. It’s not just you,” she rushed to say. “It could be anyone. I don’t like having someone so . . . close.”

When she peeked up to gauge his reaction, his brow was furrowed. “It’s my understanding you always have people around you. That you’re never alone. I’d think if that was the case, you’d be glad to have me here with you so you aren’t alone.”

“I don’t like being alone,” she admitted.

“You’re making no sense.”

She sighed and turned onto her back to stare at the ceiling. “If I have a choice between alone and being alone with one other person, I choose alone, no matter how uncomfortable it makes me.”

She could feel his stare burning over her skin, like he was trying to peel back the layers even further and see her darkest secrets.

To her surprise he sat up and threw his legs over the edge of the bed. She watched from the corner of her eye as he reached for the hotel directory on the nightstand.

He rotated back around and began flipping through the pages. “Well, if we’re going to be up all night, I’m going to order room service. I’m starving.”

She wrinkled her nose. “But you ate a huge supper. I mean, it looked like it was the entire cow. Or pig. Whatever we ate.”

“I’m a growing boy. Need food.”

“You’re really going to stay up just because I can’t sleep?”

He glanced over at her. “Yeah, sure.” He held up the menu. “You want something?”

She slowly sat up and arranged one of the cushions behind her so she was propped against the headboard. Then she smiled. “Yeah. I could eat.”

“Hey,” Connor said softly.

His voice was a tickle in her ear and she scrunched up her nose in her sleep and batted at the offending sensation.

A husky chuckle blew a strand of her hair over her cheek.

“Wake up, Sleeping Beauty. We have things to do today and Damon Roche is sending a driver to collect you in an hour. I thought you’d want to take a shower and put on something killer before he arrives.”

She cracked one eye open and stared at Connor’s face just inches from her own. For a moment she was confused and then realization pushed aside the veil of sleep.

“I slept,” she said in wonder.

Connor nodded. “Yeah, you did. You crashed around five.”

“What time is it now?”

“Eight. I would have let you sleep longer, but I’ve got to get your security squared away today and then we have to move you.”

“Okay.”

He eased back and she struggled to push herself up, her brain clouded and fuzzy. She blinked to try to clear the cobwebs and for a moment she simply stared around the room, amazed that she’d fallen asleep with him next to her in bed.

Maybe her exhaustion had finally caught up to her and she’d simply passed out. Even more surprising was the fact that she really wanted to lie back down and sleep for several more hours.

She should be jumping at the opportunity to surround herself with people for the day. Being on her own and with Connor had been a strain, and she was starting to show signs of cracking.

She rubbed at her face and then glanced over at Connor, who was sitting at the end of the bed watching her. “Are you done in the bathroom?”

He nodded. “Yeah. I’ve already showered. It’s all yours.”

“Good. I’ll need a bit to get ready.”

She threw the covers aside and swung her legs over the side of the bed. Damn, but she was tired. As she trudged toward the bathroom, Connor said, “You want breakfast? I was going to order room service. I’d rather you not go down and eat. More chance of you being recognized.”

She covered a yawn and nodded. “Yeah. Sounds good.”

“Eggs? Bacon? Pancakes? What’s your poison?”

“Yes, yes and yes.”

He laughed. “Okay, I’ll order everything they have. It’ll look like a buffet because I’m starved.”

She shook her head in amazement. “You put away a lot of food just a few hours ago. How can you possibly be starving again?”

He ignored her and picked up the phone.

Fifteen minutes later, she stepped out of the shower feeling somewhat revived, and after drying herself, she put her hair up in a towel, pulled on one of the big, fluffy robes the hotel provided and padded back into the room to figure out what to wear.

She was back in the bathroom drying her hair and fluffing it out when Connor hollered that the food had arrived. She didn’t have makeup on yet, but she was tempted to go au naturel. She didn’t often go without full treatment, hair, nails, outfit and makeup because she literally never knew when and where she might be photographed.

Today she just wanted to be . . . normal. Unrecognized. Anonymous—and not only because she had some lunatic freaking her out. Okay, so that was the biggest reason, but the other was simply she was looking forward to being around people she could actually be herself with.

She walked back into the hotel room to see Connor putting a dent in the array of food arranged on the serving cart. If she wanted to eat, she needed to wade in and rescue something before he ate it all.

“Do you always eat so much?” she asked once she was cross-legged on the bed, her plate in front of her.

He frowned and stopped chewing for a minute. “I haven’t eaten much in the last couple of days. Been too busy with you.”

Her eyes widened. If he considered what he’d eaten “not much,” she’d hate to see what he considered a normal appetite.

“I bet you ran your parents ragged trying to keep you fed. You probably ate them out of house and home.”

He grinned. “Pop may have complained a time or two.”

Her gaze roved up and down his lean, muscled body and she shook her head. “I don’t know where you put it. I think I hate you.”

“I work out,” he defended. “Not like all I do is sit around and eat.”

She snorted. “Yeah, I bet you work out like once a week. It’s obvious you’re one of these people blessed with good genes.”

“And what about you? You aren’t exactly a delicate miss when it comes to eating and what are you, a size two?”

She nearly choked on her food. Maybe this guy didn’t have as much experience with women as she thought. “I’m a twelve. Sometimes a ten. I’ve been as high as a fourteen. No, nothing huge but not bone-thin either. I have to work hard to keep it under a ten. When I’m on tour I keep my weight down because performing almost every night keeps me fit. But when I’m not on tour and writing songs or in the recording studio, I gain weight just looking at food. I have to have a strict exercise regimen to keep it under control.”

He frowned. “I think you’re pretty damn perfect as you are. You don’t need to be any thinner.”

Then again, maybe he had plenty experience with women, because he sure knew what to say.

“I’m straining the waists of my size twelves right now,” she admitted. “I’m at the end of my tour and the shows are further apart and I’ve been stress-eating. Not the best habit in the world, but there you have it. I have a weakness for salty and sweet. Carbs. I love carbs.”

His eyes narrowed and she could feel his gaze examining her. His frown grew fiercer as he met her eyes. “You look just fine like you are.”

Warm pleasure bathed her cheeks until she was sure she glowed. In her world she was never perfect. She had fitness trainers telling her she needed to shed pounds. Her manager telling her what she could or couldn’t eat. Even her stylist waded in with her opinion and clucked at Lyric whenever her outfits got too tight.