We only have tonight. Those words land inside me as heavy and stubborn as an anchor.
“Then let’s not fight,” I say, bringing my hand to her face. “Let’s fuck instead.”
“Yes,” she says, wrapping her fingers around the back of my neck. “Let’s do that.”
“Say it,” I demand, resisting her as she tries to pull me down.
“What?”
“Tell me you want to fuck me. And do it loudly. I want to hear that award-winning voice of yours when you admit you want to fuck your biggest rival.”
Her blue eyes shine bright as she smiles up at me. Her beauty really is one that steals the breath from my lungs and makes my heart skip a beat. I think about what I said earlier in Swedish.
Var kom du ifrån? Och hur länge kan jag behålla dig?
Where did you come from? And how long will you let me keep you?
“I want to fuck you, Pia Lindberg. I want to fuck the one and only Femme Fatale. I want to fuck you all night long until you are so hoarse from moaning that they’ll hear it in the recording tomorrow and tonight will be memorialised forever on that fucking song.”
“That’s what you want?” I ask because all other words fail me.
“That’s exactly what I want,” she replies, and then she yanks me closer into a deep, delicious kiss.
CHAPTER 10
CASSIE
“Fucking hell, girls!” Martin bellows as we walk into the studio. “An hour and a half late. What the fuck are you thinking?”
“Morning, Martin,” Pia says breezily, completely unbothered by his angry stare. She crosses the room to the couch in one corner, dumps her bag and lights a cigarette.
“I hope you’re not picking up her bad habits.” Martin points a finger at me.
“Oh, she’s picked up all sorts from me,” Pia says from the sofa. I flash her a look, but all I get in return is a wink and an air-kiss.
“Don’t get comfortable.” Martin’s wielding that finger at Pia now. “We need to start recordingimmediately.”
“But I need coffee,” Pia pouts at him, and I smother my giggle.
“Don’t they have coffee at your hotel? God knows you’ve drunk them dry of pretty much everything else, according to the last minibar bill I saw.”
“We didn’t get up in time,” she says, far too nonchalantly.
“We?” Martin stops shuffling around the room. I freeze in place, every single hair on my body standing to attention.
“Cassie and me,” Pia says as if she isn’t just sharing our secret with Martin and everyone else in the room, which includes four men at the sound deck who seem too busy to be paying attention, but who knows? Men have been known to multi-task on occasion.
There’s also a woman I don’t recognise in the corner, scribbling into a notebook, and I panic; is she writing down this conversation? I scan everybody’s faces, looking for recognition of what happened between us, but when my eyes land on Pia, she gives me another wink and a gentlenod of what seems to be reassurance. “We had a little sleepover last night.”
“A sleepover?” Martin says slowly in his Scottish accent that seems to add even more suspicion to his tone.
Jesus Christ.I close my eyes and pray to my father’s God that he can miracle a sinkhole underneath me.
“You know. Just us girls. Face masks. Pillow fights. Talking about boys all night long.”
Martin rolls his eyes at Pia’s petulant tone. Something tells me he’s heard it more times than he can count. “I don’t want to know what really happened last night, who was really in your bed.” He points at Pia again. “Just don’t go corrupting Haven’s golden girl in the process. Kevin will never forgive me.”
Pia shoots me a very knowing look. I can tell she’s thinking about this morning when I was the one corrupting her, waking her up by kissing her clit until she was halfway to an orgasm before her eyes had even opened. Or maybe she’s recalling last night when I used my fingers to fuck her to three orgasms, then used her thigh to get myself off while she sucked on my tits.