James unlocks the door and holds it open for me. There's a security guy in the passageway and the second he sees us, he speaks into his radio. "They're coming out now." He nods at James with no emotion on his face and James returns the acknowledgement just as professionally. I guess when you've had people taking care of your security and personal stuff for as long James and the others, you have to become more or less indifferent to what these people pick up about you. Otherwise you just go insane.
It's pouring as we step outside the venue. The others have already taken off, for which I'm infinitely grateful. I'm sure they're all great guys, but the thought of them looking at me, knowing...
Not that I have any regrets about it, but I guess I'm not groupie enough to stand that.
James wraps his leather jacket around my shoulders, acting like the perfect gentleman. The combined smell of the leather and his cologne makes me snuggle deeper into the jacket.
He points down the concrete steps in front of us, where I can see the vague outlines of an SUV, slightly darker than the rain-filled darkness of the night. "We'll make a run for it, 'kay?" he says, "watch your step." He gets hold of my elbow and we dart through the heavy rain. He opens the rear door and all but pushes me into the car, scrambling in after me.
The partition is already up and the car starts moving the second the door slams shut behind James.
We grin at each other in the dim light of the interior lighting. The rain has plastered his short hair to his scalp and I don't even attempt to fight my urge to run my fingers through it. James leans into the touch, closing his eyes for a moment. He presses a quick kiss to my wrist, then fishes out his phone.
I wonder who on earth he feels he needs to text right now and instantly decide I really don't want to know.
James pockets his phone again and turns towards me with a predatory grin. I shoot a quick glance towards the partition and he follows my eyes, his grin broadening.
"Where are we going?" I ask.
"Hotel," he answers shortly, his hand already crawling up my thigh.
I cover his hand with my own, again glancing towards the obscured driver.
"And where's that?"
James waves his free hand. He's busy nibbling at my neck, as if he knows it drives me wild. "Somewhere in Düsseldorf..." he says vaguely.
I relax into his touch. That gives us about 40 minutes. I let my head drop back against the head-rest, exposing my neck further.
"You like that?" James murmurs against my skin, his warm breath tickling me softly.
I hum out an affirmation. I can't decide whether to concentrate on his soft lips on my neck or his demanding hand on my thigh. I realise I'm still covering his hand with my own, not that this has kept him from slowly slipping his hand upwards.
Sighing out my content, I reach for his face and tilt my head so that his lips find mine.
His hand slips between my legs and I'm sure he can feel my heat even through the denim of my jeans.
I make a move as if to unfasten my seatbelt to grant him better access. This time, James stills my hand with his.
"Ah-ah," he chides, "I've heard German authorities are terribly strict when it comes to seatbelts. Wouldn't want you to get arrested."
He leers at me. "But I'll admit I like the idea of you in handcuffs."
Whoa, easy tiger. Much too soon for this kind of thing, I think.
But I don't want to put him off, so I boldly reach for the growing bulge in his jeans and give him a gentle squeeze.
"Yeah? But then I couldn't do that."
James hisses and bucks into my hand while capturing my mouth with his again. "Now, that would be a shame, wouldn't it?" he mumbles against my lips. His tongue pushes into my mouth again and I simply melt into my car seat underneath his hungry attack.
Blindly I try to unbuckle his heavy belt and him pressing against me doesn't make my task any easier. I finally succeed and the stiff leather in my hand makes me recall his comment about handcuffs. I moan into our passionate kiss.
James hands are busy with my jeans as well and he deftly undoes the button and zip. Slipping his hand inside, he gently rubs me, making me shiver.
"So wet," he whispers into my mouth, increasing the pressure a bit, "so hot..."
My brain has already given up on forming coherent thoughts, let alone speaking, so all I do is whimper under his touch and crash our mouths together again.
I try to slip my hand into his jeans, but James pulls away.
"Just lay back and enjoy."
Easier said than done, as James turns out to be the biggest tease in the history of back-seat sex, taking me to the edge three times, before he lets me come on his hand.
"Tease!" I protest when I can think straight again.
James just smirks at me. "Tell me you didn't like that. Besides, I'm the one suffering here," he says and presses my hand against his crotch. He is indeed rock hard.
I shrug out of his jacket. "Better take this then," I grin, "unless you want to give people another show."
I quickly straighten my own clothes as I can see we have left the Autobahn and are heading straight for the city centre of Düsseldorf.
We do not stop at the entrance of the five star hotel, but our driver makes directly for the underground parking. I finally unbuckle my seatbelt with slightly trembling hands.
"Hold it," James says, not unkindly, but determined.
He pulls me against his chest and starts kissing me, and I have no idea how much time passes before somebody knocks against the window at James' side of the car. He breaks away from me and smiles. "Okay, now."
He opens the door and with his other hand he takes my hand and pulls me with him.
As we get out, we're greeted by two men and I realise that both of them must have been in the front of the car. I don't know why, but it freaks me a little. I thought there had been only a driver. I guess the other guy must be some kind of bodyguard. At least both look as if they could throw some punches.
The taller one carries a holdall, the shorter one a small bag with the hotel's logo on it. Both nod at me as a greeting and I'm beginning to wonder if security personnel is under the strict order not to speak to the band. But then the shorter man gestures with his free hand.
"Elevator's over there."
Wow. A real chatterbox.
It's a well rehearsed routine for the three of them. Duffle-bag leads the way, James falls in behind him, tugging me along and Chatterbox brings up the rear.
No one speaks on the way up to the eighth floor and the silence is beginning to get on my nerves. James seems to notice. He squeezes my hand he's still holding and smiles at me.
Nevertheless I have to suppress a relieved sigh when we reach our floor. I've expected we'd go our separate ways now, but instead we form the same line as before and are marched right up to the door of James' suite. James slides in his key card and turns around to the two men.
"Night, guys," he says, taking the duffle-bag from the taller man.
"Good night, James." This time he doesn't bother to hide his grin.
"Night," the smaller one says and holds up his tiny bag.
"Uh, could you take that?" James asks me, pushing the door open.
The bag is as light as it's small. "What's this?" I ask as the door clicks shut behind us.
