Drake Sisters 06 - Turbulent Sea

roadies had broken everything down and were on the move before she remembered. She'd been upset because Ilya hadn't been there and he hadn't talked to her since the night in New York. She'd been thinking about him instead of the girl. She was used to handing everything over to Jerry to handle and she just let herself forget.
    The Auburn Hills concert she'd remembered just before going onstage, but afterward, she didn't remember again until she was about to leave, so she hadn't asked Jerry if he'd spoken with Dean. The road crew was already gone. It was easier to blame Jerry and Brian, but ultimately, it was her responsibility to make the inquiry if she wanted it done, because she was really the only person who believed it was the same girl. She was so used to everyone doing things for her, and what did that make her after all? A diva. She really was messed up, mostly because she desperately needed to hear Ilya's voice again.
    She considered calling one of her sisters, but they'd compare notes with Hannah, and one - or all - would come running. She didn't want to disrupt their lives, especially when they would see her glaring character flaws. It was fine to turn it all into a family joke - 'Loser Apply Here' stamped to Joley's forehead - but it was altogether different for her sisters to witness it. And yet laughing with them, she could pretend it wasn't that bad, but when she was out on her own, alone in the bus, with no one to share either problems or laughter, she knew she could easily get into trouble.
    Joley made her way to the back of the bus. Maybe if she rested, she'd manage to pull herself together. As she passed the small closet, a large hand snaked across her mouth and an arm slid like an iron bar around her waist. She was jerked back against a hard male body. Warm breath fanned her neck.
    'Don't scream.'
    She knew who it was instantly. His scent. His aura of danger. His hard, masculine body, far stronger than he looked.
    She drew in a breath, struggled and tried to sink her teeth into his palm. He let her. She knew he let her bite him. He didn't utter a sound, or flinch, but his body crowded closer to hers, and she felt the press of his arousal, strong and full and unapologetic. She went still and waited for him to release her.
    Instead Ilya Prakenskii trapped her between him and the closet door, his body pressed tight against hers. He rubbed his palm over her full lips, as if he expected her to kiss the bite better. And she was tempted. As it was, she couldn't keep her tongue from touching the small wound. He tasted masculine and sexy. The heat of his body crept into hers, a slow assault on her senses. She could feel the band of his arm sweeping up her rib cage to halt beneath her breasts. At once her skin felt too tight, her nipples hard and aching, and between her legs, already, the first flush of dampness signaled her response to him. It didn't help that the bus swayed as it rolled over the asphalt and his body brushed against hers intimately with every movement.
    'How did you get on the bus?' Her voice sounded breathy. Her heart hammered and her stomach did a slow somersault. 'How did I not see you?'
    He bent to her neck, his teeth scraping over her skin, tugging at her earlobe before his mouth settled leisurely on the side of her neck. She closed her eyes, leaning into the heat of his body, feeling his thick shaft nestled tight against her.
    'That's what I do,' he replied, in between bites along her neck. 'It's my job not to be seen. Bodyguards are supposed to fade into the background.'
    'Really?' Self-preservation demanded she move.
    Self-respect demanded she feign shock. She did neither. His arms made her feel safe when she should have felt threatened. His mouth on her skin sent little flames darting through her bloodstream. Her brain said to move, but her body refused to acknowledge the command. T think you're too much of a presence to fade into the background.'
    'You never notice I'm around unless I want you to notice,' he pointed out. He turned her into his arms so that she was crushed against the broad expanse of his chest. 'Look at me.'
    'If I do, you'll kiss me,' she said, her voice muffled by his shirt.
    He laughed softly, and she was instantly aware it was something he did rarely. 'I've been craving the taste of you ever since I kissed you in New York. A week is a long time, and I don't think I can wait any longer.'

    She inserted a hand between them in an effort to get space, but his body