Wild Flame (The Wild: A Rock Star Romance Book 2)

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Wild Flame (The Wild: A Rock Star Romance Book 2) Page 3

by Micalea Smeltzer


  I look down watching as the three little dots appear telling me he’s responding.

  Rush: First, I’ll have you lay down on your bed. Naked, of course. You’ll spread your legs and touch yourself because you want me to see those pretty pink pussy lips of yours. I’ll watch, stroking my cock while I do. Then when you’re wiggling and making those little noises I’ll tell you to stop—and you will, because you know I can bring you more pleasure than your fingers. But I’m not going to fuck you just yet. Instead I’m going to kneel between those sexy as hell legs of yours and I’m going to tongue fuck that sweet pussy. When you’re dripping wet and glistening from your orgasm, then I’m going to kiss you so you taste yourself on my lips. I’m going to kiss you until you’re begging me to fuck you—then I’ll finally, blessedly, fuck you until your legs are shaking, the neighbors know my name, and the only man you ever remember is me.

  “Holy fucking shit,” I whisper out loud, moisture seeping into my underwear.

  Before I can respond he texts again.

  Rush: Fuck, I have to go. Hayes threatened to take my phone. Can I come over when we get in? It might be late.

  I type back a simple yes.

  I curl my legs under me, taking a bite of Double Dunker ice cream. The coffee flavored ice cream mixed with cookie dough and Oreo cookie is to die for. Mia picks up the remote and puts on one of our favorite movies—How to Lose a Guy in Ten Days.

  The way I see it you can’t go wrong with Matthew McConaughey—or as I like to call him, Matthew McNaughty.

  Mia hands me a blanket and grabs one for herself before settling down beside me.

  “Are you sure you and Rush aren’t together-together?” she asks over the opening credits.

  I sigh. “For the millionth time, Mia, no.”

  “But you text all the time—he has a key to your place.”

  My jaw snaps open. “I didn’t tell you that. How do you know?”

  “Hollis,” she answers with a shrug.

  I groan. “Those four guys gossip more than school girls.”

  “Why does he have a key?” she pesters.

  I sigh and narrow my eyes on her. “Because, he comes over often for sex.” Before she opens her mouth with a retort I don’t want to hear, I add, “Nothing else, and it’s easier if he can let himself in and lock up when he leaves.”

  She shakes her head. “All I’m saying is, for as long as I’ve known you you’ve never slept with the same guy. That has to mean something.”

  “It means nothing,” I respond, and take a big bite of ice cream. “Fuck, that’s cold.”

  “Don’t take such a huge bite then,” she reasons in the scolding tone a mother would use with a small child.

  When I swallow the ice cream I reply with, “I can’t help it that it takes a lot to fill up my mouth.”

  She smiles gloatingly. “Rush and you are seriously meant to be. Deny it all you want, but I know better.”

  “Now that you’re serious with Hollis it doesn’t make you an expert on relationships.”

  “No, it doesn’t,” she agrees. “But you can’t deny chemistry. When it’s there, it’s there.”

  “You’re making up stuff, because now that you’re settling down you want the same for me—but it’s not happening, Mia. Not now, not ever.”

  She purses her lips and doesn’t say another word as we watch the movie.

  Hands trail up my inner thighs and I wiggle in my sleep at the dream.

  Fingers curl into my panties, shimmying the fabric down my hips.

  “Kira.”

  That voice. God, that voice is husky and raw with desire. It’s the kind of voice that oozes sex. It’s thick and syrupy, velvety in a way that makes my knees weak.

  “Kira, wake up.”

  My loose sleep shirt is pushed up my body and large manly hands, calloused and rough, palm my breasts. My nipples pebble in response as a small sound escapes my throat.

  “Kira, wakey-wakey. I’m not fucking you while you sleep.”

  My eyes crack open and I jump when a face materializes in the darkness.

  Not just any face.

  Rush.

  His blond hair is messy, those blue eyes alight with desire. His chiseled jaw and angular cheeks are dotted with stubble. He doesn’t look one bit tired. No, he’s entirely alert.

  I reach up with tired fingers and rub my thumb over the dimple in his chin. I have one too and it surprises me how much I love it on him.

  He grins, his teeth blindingly white in the darkness of the room.

  “There you are,” his voice is a purr.

  “Mmm,” I hum sleepily. I try to push the recesses of sleep aside like a curtain, but it’s not easily thwarted even with the promise of sex.

  He lowers his head and kisses my bare stomach where he’s pushed my shirt up. My back bows and another sound leaves my throat unbidden.

  “God, you’re fucking gorgeous,” he growls, his voice vibrating against my skin. “You have no idea what you do to me.”

  I reach down, palming him through his jeans. “I have some idea.” I stifle a yawn and he chuckles.

  “Are you too sleepy?” he asks, still palming my breasts. “I can go.”

  I shake my head. “Stay.”

  His smile is back. God, I wish his smile didn’t make my stomach flip like it does. It feels like a swarm of butterflies are trying to take flight every time he disarms me with one.

  I trace my finger over the lines of one of the many tattoos snaking his arm and chest. I’ve always had a weakness for blue eyes and tattoos. Sue me.

  “I want your shirt off,” I demand, my voice raspy.

  He chuckles huskily, his eyes twinkling. “Yes, ma’am.” I watch in fascination as the muscles in his stomach ripple as they’re exposed. There’s something about the way he’s built that reminds me of the smooth carved muscles of stone statues. He’s almost too perfect, but he has his scars. We all do.

  I reach for his belt, undoing it quickly.

  We’re both well-practiced at this dance by now.

  Soon, sleep is long forgotten and I’m naked beneath him. His body wraps around mine, like he’s shielding me from a storm. He’s so large I disappear underneath him.

  His fingers press against my clit, rubbing slow circles.

  “Rush,” I beg, my voice wobbling. My fingers fist in the sheets at my sides as I fight the desperate urge to bury them in his hair or claw his back.

  He cracks a smile. “Tell me what you want.”

  “Your mouth,” I plead brokenly, “on my pussy.”

  He tilts his head. “Is that so?”

  I push against his muscular shoulder, his skin heated beneath the palm of my hand, and with a chuckle he moves down my body leaving dangerous kisses all along my body as he goes.

  When his mouth finds my center my back arches off the bed.

  I’d been sleeping good, a luxury I rarely get to indulge in, but this … this is much better than sleep.

  My fingers finally curl into his blond hair and I tug helplessly on the strands.

  I beg him for more, then I beg him to stop, then I start all over again.

  My orgasm shatters around me and I can barely keep a hold on reality.

  He makes his way back up my body, and like he promised he kisses me so I taste myself on his lips. Those dirty, delectable, dangerous lips of his.

  He cups my cheek, angling my head back so he can deepen the kiss. I feel as if he’s kissing my soul out of me—like he wants to take my very essence and make it his to the point I won’t even recognize myself.

  His tongue tangles with mine and I gasp. His other hand finds my right breast, resting under the curve with his thumb rubbing ever so slowly against my skin. Each graze brings his thumb closer to my nipple.

  “Tell me you want me, Kira,” he growls, nipping my bottom lip.

  “No,” I gasp back as his lips move to my neck, sucking the skin there.

  His teeth dig slightly into my skin. “Say it.”r />
  “No.”

  He chuckles. “Fuck, I love your spunk. I love how you fight me every fucking way. Challenge accepted, Kira.”

  He presses his hand to my throat, choking me slightly. His eyes meet mine, his lips closed but tilted in a smirk.

  “You want me to fuck you. I want to fuck you. Why don’t you be a good girl and give us both what we want?” His fingers tighten ever so slightly.

  “No,” I rasp yet again.

  He releases my throat and his lips sear mine like a brand as he kisses me. The kiss sparks with fire, our desire barely contained. I don’t know why I love denying him so much, and I have no clue why he loves forcing me to beg. We’re both crazy, I guess.

  He moves slowly down my body, swirling his tongue around one nipple and then the other. He sucks one into his mouth and my back rises, eliciting that dangerous smirk of his that I love to hate to peek through for a moment.

  A growl rumbles in his throat as he looks back at me, and in the blink of an eye he’s kissing me again at the same time his hand moves to my pussy and rubs my clit.

  Not fair.

  The asshole knows I much prefer his cock to his fingers. He’s playing dirty.

  He smiles against my lips like he knows what I’m thinking.

  I grab the short strands of hair on the back of his head and hold him closer. I don’t do it because I crave his lips, which I do, but because if I don’t kiss him he’ll get me to spit out those treacherous words. I refuse to, not yet, because the longer I draw this out the sweeter the release.

  My mouth opens beneath his and he kisses me harder. He bites my bottom lip, not lightly but not rough either. It leaves behind a small sting he’s quick to soothe with small kisses that are far too sweet and tender for what we do.

  We fuck. Hard. Fast. Any time, any place.

  I won’t stand for sweet. Sweet is for pathetic people who think love truly exists.

  Spoiler alert, it doesn’t.

  So finally, I give in, like he knew I would.

  “Fuck me,” I beg on a breath. “Fuck me, now.”

  He rises up slightly, looking down at me. “Say it, Kira.”

  I roll my eyes.

  “Say it.”

  “Please.”

  I gasp as he presses inside me roughly, my nails scraping against his strong back. His name leaves my lips with a soft exhale.

  He grabs my left leg pushing it up toward my chest and I gasp as it presses him deeper into me.

  “Yes,” I pant. “God, yes.”

  This is what I’ve been waiting for.

  This rough, desperate, aching meeting of flesh.

  This is the only kind of connection I need, the only one I can rely on.

  Everything else is fleeting.

  4

  Rush

  I pull my truck up outside of Kira’s place.

  Me: I’m here.

  Kira: I’ll be down in a sec.

  Me: I’d rather be going up for some sex.

  Our friends decided we were overdue for a group night out. I guess they’re right since I’ve been spending all my free time in Kira’s bed, and Hollis is so far up Mia’s butt we might never see him again.

  Fox came up with the brilliant idea for us all to go to a karaoke bar. “It’ll be less competitive,” he said, since our last few ventures out were riddled with teasing and taunts. The fact he thinks we can’t turn karaoke into a competition is upsetting. Even he’s competitive. I know there’s no way tonight will end without an argument or two, and possibly a bet.

  Kira: Do you only think about sex?

  Me: Yes. It’s all you think about too so don’t judge.

  Kira: Wouldn’t dream of it. I’m coming.

  Me: You will be later tonight, but I’d love to head up and watch the show.

  Kira: I’M COMING DOWN TO THE TRUCK YOU FUCKING IDIOT.

  Me: There’s no need to yell.

  A knock bangs against the passenger door and I glance over to find Kira bundled up like we’re in fucking Antarctica. With her short stature all I can see is her dark brown eyes peeking up beneath a heavy gray-colored beanie and the puffiest black coat I’ve ever seen covers her torso. Around her neck she has a deep blue scarf wrapped around.

  “Stop staring and let me in you idiot,” she yells behind the glass.

  I shake my head and unlock the doors.

  She hops inside, struggling with her short legs and I suppress a chuckle.

  “Stop laughing or I’ll castrate you, and then you’re no good to me or any girl,” she grumbles with a slight shiver. “Remind me to give Fox a piece of my mind for dragging us out in this cold. It’s supposed to snow six inches tonight!”

  “You’re going to get plowed with more than six inches tonight,” I mutter, pulling away from the curb as she buckles in.

  “Oh no I’m not,” she declares. “I don’t feel good.”

  “Are you sick?” I ask, true concern clouding my voice.

  “I was nauseous all morning. I could barely eat and I’m sneezing my brains out. I finally managed to get some soup down. I told Mia I didn’t think I could come out tonight, but she threatened me with bodily harm if I left her alone with all four of you, so here I am.”

  I pretend to feign hurt, as I turn right at the stoplight. “Does she think we’re monsters?”

  “You’re something else,” she mutters. “Cannon is the only normal one and I’m not sure how normal he is.”

  “I feel like I should be offended, but I’m not. Normal is overrated.”

  She gives a small laugh that turns into a cough. When she recovers, she groans out a ragged, “I’m dying.”

  “Sorry, doll, I don’t think you’re dying.”

  “I feel like it,” she grumbles, leaning her head against the passenger side window.

  “Remind me to kill Mia when we get there,” she says, her eyes closing.

  I glance at her for a moment, noting the dark shadows beneath her eyes and sallowness to her skin. It’s only been three days since I’ve seen her—scratch that, two days, because I stopped by her job to get a sub—and whatever this is has come over her since then. But the early February weather has been icy and cold with snow showers, so we’re all lucky we haven’t fallen ill.

  The restaurant and bar that hosts karaoke night isn’t too far away. We arrive and the parking lot is packed with vehicles and a row of Harleys. I can’t decide if that’s a good or bad thing.

  I hop out and jog around to help Kira out. She gives me a disgruntled look when I grope her ass as I help her down.

  “I can only be so much of a gentleman,” I tell her with a shrug, locking the truck behind us.

  We walk in side by side, our arms grazing.

  I hold the door open for her and we’re immediately assaulted with an onslaught of voices and one shrieking a horrendous rendition of a Shania Twain song.

  God help us all.

  I shove my hands into my pockets, looking down at the grungy red and white tiled floor. It looks like at some point of time it might have shined with a polished finish, but now it’s dull with gray scuffmarks.

  “Are they here?” I ask Kira, my head swiveling.

  She shakes her head. “I’m not sure. I asked Mia, but she hasn’t answered.”

  “They must be here then,” I reason. “You can’t hear anything over this chaos. Come on.” I grab her hand and she jolts as soon as my skin makes contact with hers. I glance at her, noting the way she looks at our joined hands like mine could bite hers at any second. “I’m only holding your hand. Not asking you to marry me.”

  Some of the tension leaves her and she smiles slightly. “Yet.” She gives me a small smirk.

  I chuckle as I drag her through the restaurant, looking for any sign of our friends. “Is that so? You think I’m going to get down on one knee and profess my undying love to you?”

  She laughs, her hand small and warm in mine, but slightly clammy like she’s still unsure of this hand holding thing. I only grab
bed her hand so we wouldn’t get lost in the crowd. The place is packed from wall to wall.

  “I’m very lovable,” she says casually.

  “You keep telling yourself that.”

  She laughs again, but this time it turns into a cough. “Ugh,” she groans, reaching up with her other hand to rub her throat. “I’m going home and drinking an entire bottle of Nyquil.”

  “You’ll do no such thing,” I scold seriously. “That stuff is bad for you.”

  “And what? You’re going to take care of me?” She raises a brow as we enter the bar section of the restaurant.

  “Yes, actually,” I say, glancing at her and abandoning my search for the guys and Mia for the moment. I stop walking and Kira is forced to stop beside me. “I know all kinds of home remedies and shit. You’ll be over this in no time.” She looks at me speculatively. “I’m serious,” I add in defense. “My…” I pause, choking on the word I know I need to say but seems to be lodged in my throat. “My mom was really into all the homeopathic stuff, the shit works too. I’d be sick as a dog and she’d brew one of her spells as she called them—really just herbal tea—and I’d be better the next day.”

  She shrugs. “Fine, I’m willing to try your … spells.” She smiles with the word. “But if I throw up on you, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

  I chuckle. “It’ll take more than that to send me running.”

  “That so?” Her tone implies she finds it to be a challenge and she can’t hide her little smirk.

  “Guys! Over here!”

  The moment between us is broken by Mia waving like a deranged madwoman at us. I release Kira’s hand.

  “There they are,” I announce unnecessarily.

  “There they are,” she echoes, looking down at her now empty hand.

  I push my way through the crowded bar, Kira trailing behind me and we finally arrive at the table our friends have claimed.

  I drape my coat over the back of a chair and sit down beside Fox, forcing Kira into the empty space beside me—though if she had a choice we both know she’d still choose to sit there.

  I’m awesome—who wouldn’t want to bask in my presence?

  Fox slides his menu over to me, and I peruse it for a moment before settling on my usual—a juicy ass cheeseburger and fries. Fucking delicious.

 

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