“You know I’d never do that to you,” Kennedy said, her teasing smile fading. “You know that, right?” Kennedy bumped her in the arm with the back of her wrist. “Madison?”
“Now if his band’s cute bassist wanted to introduce me to his psyche, I wouldn’t refuse.”
“The gorgeous one with the pierced cock?” Kennedy grinned and wiggled her eyebrows.
Madison’s face flamed. She wasn’t sure why she’d shared that tidbit of privileged information with Kennedy. Madison had been so shocked by the very idea that she’d had to tell someone. “That’s what I’ve heard.”
“Are you sure you haven’t seen it? You’re blushing like mad.”
Madison shook her head vehemently. She’d overheard Adam teasing Owen about it, that was all. Curiosity piqued, she’d done an Internet search to see what a pierced penis looked like and found there was more than one way to pierce a cock. Once she’d picked her jaw up off the floor and shoved her eyes back into their sockets, she’d told Kennedy about Owen’s, um, modification. Her sister seemed a tad fixated on it. “I could introduce you to him. If you’d like.”
“Maybe,” Kennedy said. “I would like to know what drives a man to do something like that to his own body.”
Madison chuckled. She should’ve known that Kennedy would be more interested in Owen’s mental state than in his physical attributes.
Madison turned her head to check the time. While that damned clock had ticked forward at a slow mosey all day, it had inexplicably fast-forwarded fifteen minutes since the last time she’d glanced its way. Her fluttery stomach dropped. “I have to leave. I’m going to be late.”
Kennedy crossed her arms over her chest and drummed her fingertips against her biceps. “Maybe you should keep him waiting for once.”
Maybe. But the thought of missing even one moment with him made her eyes prickle with unshed tears. Oh God, I have it so bad for him. She knew she was a fool. What could possibly come from a one-sided love affair with a rock star?
“Next time.” She hurried down the hallway, which was decorated with family pictures in mismatched frames. Out of habit, she kissed her fingertips and pressed them to the photo of her departed grandmother on her way into the dining room. Madison still felt the feisty matriarch’s presence in the old house, which was why she hesitated to move to the city. “Bye, granny. Don’t wait up.” In the small, tidy kitchen, Madison grabbed her purse and the sealed container of gingersnaps she’d spent hours baking that morning, before dashing toward the back door.
“Call me if you need anything,” Kennedy yelled after her.
“I will. Love you!” Madison was sure that Adam had everything she could possibly need pounding within his muscular chest. She had no hope of getting what she really wanted from him, though settling for what he kept in his pants wasn’t too great a hardship.
There were few things that made Adam’s heart thud like a bass drum at a metal concert: the first cheer of the crowd when he appeared on stage; watching Madison Fairbanks enter a room; any creature with six or more legs; watching Madison Fairbanks looking anxious and lost near a restaurant entrance; tornado sirens at night; watching Madison Fairbanks scan a room looking for him.
Madison hadn’t spotted him yet, which gave him a moment to admire her innocent beauty. She wore a little black dress that clung to her slight curves and had a wide, low neckline that showed off the bronze skin of her throat and chest. Her collarbones were visible. He did have a thing for collar bones. Had he told her that? He must have, since she never disappointed him. He smiled to see her wearing her sexy, black cowboy boots. Adam’s thighs tightened at fond memories of her legs around him and those signature boots digging into the backs of his legs. Even if the scuffed boots didn’t exactly go with her elegant dress, they went with Madison.
Madison’s dirty-blonde hair was drawn back by a clip at her nape. He couldn’t wait to free those silky strands and run his fingers through them. To taste her sweet lips, her skin, her cum. To smell her delicate perfume, her fruity shampoo, the musky evidence of her excitement seeping from her sex. To feel her arms and legs wrapped around him, the timid touch of her hands, her nails digging into his back as her naked body thrashed against his in orgasm. Damn, he’d missed her.
Adam drummed his fingers on the surface of the table as if playing triplets on his fret board and waited for his hot date to spot him. A group of what had to be concert-goers—wearing Sole Regret T-shirts and an aura of anticipation—had entered the restaurant a few minutes before her, and he didn’t want to draw attention to himself. He was glad he’d requested the back corner booth. He had a good view of the entrance, but the stained glass partitions at the top of each booth offered plenty of privacy from surrounding tables. The decor also made it difficult for Madison to find him. Apparently, she couldn’t hear his telepathic mantra of here, over here.