Down his throat and across his chest so she could lick and tug on his nipple with the ring. She breathed him in, tracing the lines of his arms and the point of his elbows as she continued to kiss her way downward, over the lines of the tattoo on his belly. His flat, hard belly.

Positively light-headed, that was what he left her. By the time she slid her tongue across the slit of his cock, there was only the way he made her feel.

She let her hair fall around her face, knowing how much he loved her hair and when he got that partial view of what her mouth was doing on his cock. Swirling licks and sucks, she drew him in deeper and deeper.

She wanted to bring him pleasure to distract him from his stress. Wanted to minister to him the way he had her so often.

And so she poured everything she felt about him into every touch. Every kiss and lick.

Over and over, she took him as deeply as she could, keeping him wet, massaging a slow, circular slide over his ass**le as she continued to suck his cock. Her inner muscles skittered when he groaned.

That need to please was a powerful thing. In those moments with him like this, the dark things they both craved and found in the other, the raw sexuality of their energy—there was no fear or hesitation. She wanted to bring him pleasure. Wanted him to find it in her.

His dominant side rose slowly, building. But he’d already been halfway there, already in protective mode from the incident with the media earlier. He was sure. Aggressive. His fingers in her hair tightened as he guided her the way he wanted.

And she loved it.

He growled and thrust upward when her lubed fingers had found his prostate and began a slow stroke each time she pulled her mouth up.

She lost herself in the scent of him, the feel of his body, the way he tasted, and concentrated on pushing everything but pleasure from his brain.

This had to be the best blow job he’d ever had. And Gillian was a f**king genius with her mouth, so that was a big deal. She had him on the edge of orgasm and he was just about to go over but she felt so good and looked so f**king hot bending over his c**k he didn’t want it to end.

And, as he sailed into climax three minutes later, he was pretty sure he might have blacked out, he came so hard.

“When I can move my anything again, I’m all over that pu**y. Just sayin’,” he managed to slur.

She laughed and snuggled into his body. “You never told me what it was you saw when you looked into this room.”

“The posts on the bed. I’ll need to use them when we work up to round two.”

17

If he never rode in a helicopter again, he’d have the memory of Miles’s face when they walked from the back of the house to where the ride the label had sent to pick them up waited.

“This is major,” Miles breathed out, eyes as wide as saucers.

“It is pretty awesome, I agree.” Gillian grinned at their son and Adrian put an arm around each one of them and walked them over. This made the hassle of fame worth it. Being able to share such a thrill with Gillian and Miles.

“Come on then. Let’s see Miami from the air.” He held his guitar and the case, the same as he had over and over. But the nervousness over the meeting with Reg was something he hadn’t felt in a very long time.

As if she sensed he needed it, Gillian reached out to squeeze his hand.

“I’ve never been in a helicopter before. Mum either. This is beyond.” Miles was all eyes as he strapped in. Gavin grinned at him and strapped in next to him.

“I’ve done it before several times but it’s always cool.”

Miles took in Gavin’s considerable size and nodded, as if reassuring himself. Adrian hid his smile.

Gillian grasped his hand so tight he made her let go so he could put an arm around her shoulders. He’d never seen her this spooked by anything, but the way she melted into his side and averted her gaze from what was going on outside the window as they rose and left the ground made him glad he was there to comfort her. Glad she turned to him for it.

“We should arrive shortly,” the pilot said via the headsets they all wore. Jeremy had stopped by for breakfast and had met Miles and Gillian. Gillian had charmed him easily and Miles asked rapid-fire questions about the industry that kept Jeremy on his toes, but if the zeal on his face was any indicator, he’d enjoyed the discussion.

He also hated helicopters, so he and Merrill had headed to Reg’s about twenty minutes before the copter had arrived. Gillian’s mouth had flattened into a hard line when Merrill had been there after they’d woken up. One bodyguard and she’d been all right, but two and she’d understood the gravity, which he knew hit that motherworry bull’s-eye.

But she’d straightened her spine, held her hand out to shake Merrill’s, and by the time breakfast had ended, Merrill looked at her with the same f**king cow eyes Gavin already did.

She was as larger than life as Erin was, but in her own way. It only made him more fascinated to watch how she interacted with people. Her quiet way seemed to calm Miles, and though he hated to admit it, he finally understood what she’d meant when she tried to talk to Adrian about structure and how Miles thrived with it.

He turned to kiss the top of her head. Love was alchemy too, he realized. It had changed him right down to his toes.

So when he walked into that room with nothing more than his guitar and a notepad to meet Reg Thorne, he knew for sure that whether or not Thorne agreed to produce, he’d make that CD anyway. And it would be the best thing he’d ever done.

When he’d gone through two songs, Thorne rapped the table with his knuckles. “You don’t need anything more, mate.” Thorne had an accent that made Adrian’s fingers itch to touch Gillian.