Page 18 of Rising Star

The thought of leaving the girls for two days and being onstage again for real played with my nerves.

Dressed in cotton pants, a gray Henley, and a Carter Hills Band vintage black hoodie, I tiptoed down the hallway and checked on the girls as I passed their room. They were both deep asleep, tucked under their comforters, looking peaceful, the sound of their breathing enough to calm me down. The best I could.

In the kitchen, I made myself a coffee, cursing at the coffeemaker when it made grumbling sounds. Madison waking up right now and being all adorable and sexy at this early hour would do me no good in my present state of mind. When I felt vulnerable. And angsty. And my testosterone had been spiking a little too much these last few days.

Asking her to move in had been both the stupidest and the smartest decision I’d made lately.

Last night’s events replayed in my head. I almost capitulated. What Madison did was hot as hell, though. That session she indulged in afterward would forever be engraved in my memories. Her cries. Her moans. My blood bubbled like lava at the reminder.

The sane part of me wished we’d met under different circumstances so we could figure out our relationship, this arousal reverberating between us. If she hadn’t been working for me, this impossible-to-ignore craving between us wouldn’t seem that inappropriate, would it? And I wouldn’t feel that getting together meant stripping her from her youth.

With my coffee mug in one hand, I grabbed a stack of documents Riley had asked me to read, that I’d discarded yesterday on the counter, and made my way to the back deck. An hour or two of peace, witnessing the awakening of a new day should ease my annoyed self. It usually did the trick.

Just when I was about to take a sip, I halted, stumbling over my own feet, the scorching liquid almost spilling over me when I lowered the cup in a jerky movement.

Every lingering residue of sleep left me.

My heart bounced in my throat.

I exhaled, trying to ease the new surge of fire coursing in my veins. The tension between my legs. The thunderous hammering of my heart.

Was life playing with my flimsy willpower on purpose?

My eyes were drawn to the thighs and plump ass in those purple spandex leggings, the toned skin of her midsection, the curves of her waist, the swell of her boobs peeking from the top of the sports bra.

Bent over herself, her hands and feet on a mat on the deck, and her ass pointing at the sky, Madison looked breathtaking in the morning light. And sexy. And too dangerous to be in this house. In my house. Around my sex-deprived self.

My sleep-lacking brain couldn’t deal with so much exposed flesh and temptations at this early hour of the day.

Oblivious to me watching her through the glass pane and switching from one yoga pose to another, her face, arms, and feet were still red from the sunburn, but already looking better than they did yesterday.

Deep breath in. Deep breath out. I would rupture at the seams. And nobody was prepared for the devastation that would ensue.

My dick sprang wood. No blood irrigated my brain. Many forbidden thoughts tempted me, however much I tried to lock them away.

Once I regained some composure and adjusted the crotch of my pants, I pushed some of my annoyance down and yanked the back door open.

The desire coursing through me turned to wrath.

All the images haunting me came back with a vengeance. Pushing Madison against the wall and punishing her with my cock for looking so young and innocent. And too fucking appealing. And finishing what we started mere hours ago.

I would ram into her from behind, spread her legs with my knee to get the perfect angle, and then I’d switch her to her knees and let her suck every last drop of cum from me until we both got it out of our systems.

I saw it in her eyes when she bumped into me in the laundry room yesterday and against the refrigerator door afterward. She lusted for me as much as I did. She couldn’t run away fast enough from me, panting after ogling my bare chest. Then closing her eyes—yep, she did shut her eyes—too weak to face me with arousal straining her features. Later, she fucking sucked my thumb as if it was my dick. She knew what she was doing when she did that. She was aware it would mess with every string of my composure. And the glints in her eyes when she aimed the challenge-filled stare over her shoulder. Gone was the nice woman I got to know in that instant. Madison had become a temptress testing my limits. And she won. She had mastered the little game between us.

I had to take back the control. Or it would end badly. For the both of us. And we had said we wouldn’t cross the set boundary. I was adamant about keeping my end of our deal.

As I got closer to her, my annoyance increased a couple of notches. I couldn’t contain it. I had to explode. One way or another. No matter the form. So, I chose the less damaging for both of us.

Now on all fours, one leg bent at a ninety-degree angle behind her, and one stretched fully in a straight line, showcasing the curve of her ass, Madison turned her head to face me as I stepped next to her.

“What are you doing up at this hour?” I asked, my voice laced with fury I couldn’t pinpoint the source of other than my raging hard-on. She blinked, and I lowered my voice, my words still clipped. “It’s too early to be doing…to be doing whatever you’re doing dressed like this.”

I gestured to the length of her, and she sat on her ankles, her eyes wide and full of questions.

“It’s my morning routine. I get up at five three times a week.”

The pink on her face turned a shade darker.