Strike a Chord

by Salsbury, JB

  Her back arches off the couch, her exposed breast wet and glistening from my mouth. So fucking sexy. I grip my hard-on to keep from exploding.

  “I can’t promise no one will get hurt, Taylor.” I free her other breast and cup her in my hand, squeezing and thumbing her nipple. “But I can promise I will not walk away from us if it’s within my power to make things work.”

  Her breath hitches. “And if it’s not?”

  I kiss her mouth, drag my tongue between her lips, and smirk. “Twenty-seven years, I’ve gotten every single thing I’ve ever wanted. And now, I want you.”

  “But—”

  Her words die on my lips as I kiss her deeply. After her sharing her story with me, our connection feels more intense. She cut herself open and bled in front of me, and I took advantage by diving inside those vulnerable places. I don’t have all the answers for what the future will bring, but I’ll be damned if I’m going to give up before even trying.

  There’s no other woman I could imagine spending time with. No better option, no chance of me getting bored. Taylor is the only woman who has ever kept me interested by simply breathing. She’s unconventional, sure. Uniquely beautiful, atypically funny. I never expect the obstacle she’ll throw up next, and that kind of unpredictability is addicting and arousing.

  “I want you,” she says against my lips.

  I cover her breasts and pull her to her feet, leading her to the king-sized bed at the back of the bus. I had the room cleaned and sheets changed so that I wouldn’t have to squeeze us both into my bunk. Not that I mind being in a space where we’re forced to be close, but I’ve had more women in my bunk than I can count and Taylor deserves better. She deserves luxury. She deserves to be worshipped in ways that my bunk’s limited space makes impossible.

  I lock the door behind us. Her arms wrap around my neck and she kisses me hard, using her teeth to tug at my lower lip. I grip two fistfuls of her ass and squeeze until she yelps. She jumps into my arms, wraps her legs around my waist, and the heat between her thighs presses against my shaft. I hiss at the contact. I’ve never been so hypersensitive to a woman’s touch, but every place where our bodies connect—mouth, chest, hips—is strangely intensified.

  I press her back to the door, my dick trying desperately to get past the barrier of my sweats and her flannel pants. “You really thought I’d let you walk away from me tonight?” My blood heats as I consider how close I was to losing her. “Am I that easy to leave?” I grind my hips against hers, swallowing her gasp.

  “Ethan,” she says in a way that sounds like begging.

  “I’m going to make love to you.” I run my teeth up her throat to her ear. “But first, I’m gonna fuck you.”

  “Yes,” she breathes.

  I turn her around and toss her onto the mattress. In one quick move, I pull off her pants and panties and throw them behind me. She’s naked from the waist down, her chest heaving as she watches me reach for a condom and free my dick from my sweatpants. I don’t bother taking them off, but roll the condom on then grab her ankle and pull her to the edge of the bed. She hooks me around the neck, pulls my mouth to hers, and kisses me until I can’t feel my own fucking legs.

  I rip my mouth from hers. My hand slides into her hair and I make a fist. “Turn over.”

  Anticipation flickers in her eyes. She gives me her back, sitting up on her knees. I press the space between her shoulder blades, pushing her gently forward until she comes down on her hands. I run my palm down her back, over her round ass, and to the warm and wet space between her legs.

  A long hum bubbles up my throat.

  “This is turning you on.” I bend forward and bite one round, firm globe, then I lick up the middle.

  She sucks in a shuddering breath that ends on a moan.

  I step up behind her, teasing her with the feel of my length rock solid against her. She presses back, greedy and wanting. I’ve yet to see this side of her and it’s turning me the fuck on.

  I grip her hips to still them. “Chest to the bed.” She drops her chest to the bed, her ass in the air in offering as I squeeze the base of my erection. “I wish you could see how fucking gorgeous you are.”

  A sexy growl rolls from her lips. “Stop torturing me already.”

  “The way you tortured me just a bit ago?” I continue the torment.

  “I…” She moans. “Didn’t mean to.”

  “Tell me what I need to hear, Taylor, and I’ll give you what you want.”

  “What do you want to hear?” she says through her heavy breath. “I’ll tell you anything.”

  “Tell me the truth. Tell me you’re not giving up on us just because things are complicated. Tell me you’ll fight for us. Tell me you’ll do whatever it fucking takes to keep me. Tell me you can’t see yourself with another man.” I thrust forward, burying the full length of me into her hot and welcoming body. “Tell me you’re mine.”

  She presses her ass back against me, as if she could take more if I had more to give. “I’m yours.”

  “Fuck yeah, you are.” I fold over her, bite her shoulder, and suck until it leaves a mark.

  I grip her hair and hold her in place while I pound her from behind. Conflicting thoughts war in my head—I need to protect her, but to mark her. I want to leave myself behind, make her ache with my presence. I want to scar her in a way that she’ll never forget, and that is some fucked up shit.

  She pushes back with every thrust forward, meeting me in my violence, joining me in my demented desire to wound. Her hand comes over mine at her hip, her short nails digging into my wrist. A delicious sting shoots from my arm to between my legs and my pace quickens.

  Her muscles lock down hard around me, coaxing a hiss from between my teeth, and she cries out as her orgasm rocks through her. Her nails leave red marks on my skin. With her cheek to the mattress and her other hand clenching the bedding, she cries out my name. I slow my pace and slide in and out with deliberate strokes, absorbing every new sensation. She feels so fucking good, wet, tight, and hot. Grinding my teeth, I have to stop moving in order to keep from falling over the edge right after her.

  Her body relaxes, she releases her grip, and her legs give out beneath her. I pull out and tug off her tank top. I roll her to her back and scoot her limp and sated body to the middle of the bed before crawling between her thighs and sliding back inside.

  Home. The word reverberates in my head, a whisper in my own voice.

  Her hand touches my cheek. “Are you all right?”

  I blink at her. Her eyelids at half-mast, one side of her face red from being pressed into the bed. Her lips part with a lazy smile.

  “I’m so all right it scares me.”

  “Me too.” She lifts her head to kiss me. “I thought making love was as good as it gets. I was wrong.”

  I roll my hips forward, slowly, deeply, bring a sigh of pleasure from her lips. “You sure about that?”

  She bites her lip.

  “I love making you come. I love…” I swallow back the words, nuzzling her neck and slipping back and forth inside her.

  Home. This woman and all her complexities, her fire, her attitude—she’s everything I wasn’t aware I wanted. Being inside her grounds me to the earth and makes everything else disappear. Nothing matters outside of keeping her.

  The sexy sound coming from her lips calls me from my thoughts. I hitch her thigh up over my hip, changing the angle, deepening the penetration, and rolling my hips in waves. I suck on her neck, her lips, her tongue, and with every stroke inside her, my own release creeps closer to the surface.

  “You feel so good,” I groan into her mouth.

  I’m grateful we’re using a condom or I’d end up being a two-pump chump. But I long for the feel of her, skin on skin without a barrier between us. Soon.

  The closer we become, the more I despise anything and anyone who attempts to stand between us.

  Taylor

  Ethan’s big body is a powerhouse of muscle and stamina. As he move
s over me, I feel every adjustment to his position as pleasurable sparks beneath my skin. I hate to think of how he learned his love-making skills and prefer to believe it’s not him, but us together that makes me feel so intensely.

  I’m close to tears. And I don’t cry!

  He fought for me tonight. In my panic-induced paranoia, I was prepared to walk away from him, but he fought for me. He held me close when I was tempted to run. And then, he punished me in the most pleasurable way, reminding me once and for all where I belong.

  I’ve fallen in love with him.

  The words are on the tip of my tongue, my mouth forming them over and over, yet my voice lacks the courage. I run my hands over his broad shoulders, his muscles tense as he holds himself over me. His hair hangs around his face. His eyes travel from my lips down to our connection, where he watches himself sink fully inside me then pull out slowly and back again. I hitch my knees higher and grip his ass, feeling it flex with every forward thrust.

  He’s the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen. And he makes me feel like the most beautiful woman.

  He wraps his lips around my nipple, sucking hard, and I feel another orgasm surface. I toss my head to the side, the sensation of his tongue on my breast and deep, rhythmic thrusts between my legs too much.

  “Come with me, Taylor.”

  The sound of my name growled from this feral and sexually charged man’s lips has me sucking in a breath as he chases down my release. I close my eyes, and his tongue slides into my mouth as my orgasm crashes through me in an unforgiving wave. He rips his mouth from mine and holds my gaze, biting his lip as he explodes above me. His muscles quake and his hardness kicks inside me over and over until we’re both spent and lifeless.

  I wrap my arms and legs around him, his skin cool with a light sheen of sweat. I close my eyes, gather my strength, and give my innermost feelings a voice. “I’m falling in love with you.”

  His body stills above me, as if he’s holding his breath.

  Heat rushes to my face while my stomach plummets. My muscles tense for his rejection. I can’t take my confession back, and even if I could, I wouldn’t.

  He props his weight on his elbows and kisses me—soft, sweet, and with so much feeling, my eyes heat with unshed tears. “Good.” He kisses me again. “Because I’ve already fallen in love with you.”

  His words give life to my heart. As I stare into his pale brown eyes, I don’t question his sincerity. For the first time since I met Ethan, I see vulnerability in his gaze.

  “What now?” I say.

  “We don’t worry about what happens next.” We kiss again. I would keep going until we’re both ready for more, but Ethan stops with a defeated groan. “You need sleep.”

  He’s right, but… “I’d rather keep touching you.”

  He chuckles, the sound dark, sexy, and so arousing. “It’s official. I’ve turned you into a sex addict. Not that I’m complaining.” He kisses me again.

  “One more time, and then I’ll sleep.”

  “No.” He pushes my hand off his erection. “My dick is closed for business until you’ve had at least…” He checks the clock on the wall. “Five hours’ sleep.”

  “Doesn’t feel like he’s closed for business.” I reach for it again only to have him grab my hand and bring it to his lips.

  He pulls me to his chest, my cheek against his pec, where I hear the slow, steady beat of his heart. “Sleep, pretty girl. My dick will still be here in the morning.”

  My answering laugh dissolves on a yawn, and I feel myself doze in and out as the gentle rumble of the bus lulls me to sleep.

  Somewhere in the dark as I slip into dreamland, I hear his voice whisper, “Home.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Taylor

  My heart races as I shoot upright in bed, looking around the room and wondering where the hell I am. Creamy leather, luxurious sheets, and the smell of expensive cologne remind me I’m on Ethan’s bus. I smile, stretch, and feel aches in places I’ve never felt aches before.

  The pillow beside me is empty. I check the time. It’s just after seven o’clock in the morning. I peer out the small window to see the rows and rows of big rigs and buses lined up behind the enormous arena. I find my tank top and flannel pants, slip them on, and run my fingers through my hair to try to make myself presentable.

  I find Ethan standing in the kitchenette, wearing a T-shirt, shorts, and a pair of running shoes. His shirt and hairline are damp with sweat. When he spots me, his lips tip up on the ends. “Good morning, babe.”

  Never thought I’d like being called babe, yet my cheeks flush at the endearment.

  I tuck my hair behind my ears, feeling a little insecure and wishing I had my baseball hat to hide behind. “What time did you wake up?”

  He crosses to me, getting close as if he’s going to hug me but comes up short. “Five. I lay in bed and watched you sleep, imagining all the different ways I’d love to wake you.”

  My face gets hot, and I resist the urge to fan myself with my hand. “Why didn’t you?”

  He lifts a brow and his grin widens. “I promised you five hours of sleep.” He watches me for a few heated seconds. “I really want to hold you, but I’m sweaty.”

  I rush into his arms, reminding myself of a groupie who would claw another’s eyes out for a musician’s sweat-soaked shirt. Exertion has intensified his rich, spicy scent, and like a cat, I want to rub up against it and coat myself in his smell.

  He hums, low and contentedly. “You feel good in my arms.”

  I hide a grin. “I feel good being in your arms.”

  He kisses the top of my head and mumbles, “I love you.”

  If not for his arms, I would’ve dissolved into a puddle at his feet. I hold onto him tighter. “I love you.”

  “I need to shower.” I hear the smile in his voice.

  “I need to brush my teeth.”

  He keeps his hold on me but walks me backward to the bathroom, then closes the door behind us with a wicked glint in his eye that matches the dirty thoughts in my head.

  I hook the elastic of my pants and slide them down. “I have thirty minutes before I have to be on the loading dock.”

  He stares at my naked lower half and licks his lips. “I only need ten.”

  Ethan

  “Good morning, you beautiful motherfuckers,” I greet my bandmates in the Portland arena dressing room.

  An hour ago, I kissed Taylor goodbye and sent her to work, some real Ozzy and Harriet bullshit. Unlike Ozzy and Harriet, I did this after we’d defiled every available space of the tour bus bathroom with our naked bodies. Taking Taylor’s virginity let loose her inner fiend and the woman likes it dirty just as much as she likes it sweet. Fine by me. I’ll give it to her however she wants it.

  “Someone’s in a good mood,” Ryder says with a knowing smirk.

  I ruffle his hair as I pass by. “Good mood indeed.”

  He smacks my hand from his head.

  I find the closest chair and drop into it with a wide grin plastered on my face. “What is it, Benny boy? You look consternated.”

  He’s been studying me since I bounced into the room. “I’m wondering if it was a mistake to give up the bus to you last night.”

  “Mistake? Pffffft. Mistake.” I shake my head. “Nonsense.”

  Jesse glares at me from across the room. “Why does getting laid have you talking like an eighty-year-old man?”

  Ben groans. “Please tell me you’re treating this woman with the respect and honor she deserves.”

  “Yeah, Boomer. Of course I am.” If pulling her hair and spanking her ass is considered respectful.

  “I’m not a Boomer,” Ben mumbles.

  “Whatever.” I slap the armrests of my chair. “Gentlemen, I have an announcement to make. It’s official. I’m in love.”

  Six eyeballs and three jaws pop wide open.

  “I know what you’re all thinking—that someone like me, who has an appetite for playing the field
as it were, is incapable of love, but I’m here to tell you I have been changed. I’m in love with Taylor and she loves me too.”

  They remain silent.

  My smile fades. “You guys have nothing to say?”

  Ben clears his throat. “That’s great, Ethan. I’m happy for you.”

  Ryder’s brows pinch together. “I never would’ve guessed Taylor as your type.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Other than the obvious?” Ryder shrugs. “She’s not blindly obsessed with you like most of the women you… spend your time with.”

  “She is now.” I can still taste her on my tongue and hear her desperate moans in my ears. “And I’m equally obsessed with her.”

  “You’re no longer moping around like a little sissy bitch, so I’m happy about that,” Jesse says.

  “We have three more shows until we’re back in LA.” I give Ben my best pout. “Can we keep the bus until then?”

  He groans and rolls his eyes. “Fine, I’ll ride with Jesiah until LA.” He eyeballs his brother. “But you’re going to have to move your Facetime calls with your wife to your bedroom.” He shakes his head and mumbles, “So friggin’ awkward.”

  I grin at the sweet old man. “’Preciate you, bro.”

  “You gonna bring her?” Ryder asks.

  I don’t need clarification. I know what he’s asking. “Yeah.”

  Jesse laughs, his eyes on his phone while he punches out a text. The dude is always only half engaged with any conversation. “Have you asked her yet?”

  “I don’t need to. She’ll come.”

  He shrugs one shoulder, still focused on his device. “You sure? Taylor doesn’t seem like the kind of woman who gets off on the kind of attention we get. If you bring her, she’ll have to—”

  “I know, it’ll be cool.” I don’t appreciate Jesse telling me how to take care of my woman. And I also hate that he’s making me aware of shit I haven’t fully thought through yet. “I’ll talk to her about it tonight.”