“Me, too.”
“Go over with me,” he demands softly and catches my lips with his as I cry out, my orgasm consuming me. He growls low in his throat and follows me over, panting and clenching his hands on my ass.
“Not going anywhere,” he whispers.
Chapter Ten
~Leo~
“You made breakfast?” I ask as I stumble, bleary-eyed, into my kitchen.
Sam is wearing my black shirt again, and damn if she doesn’t look edible in it. Her light blond hair is pulled into a messy pile on the top of her head, and her face is clean of makeup.
My dick twitches at the sight of her, and I agree. She’s beautiful.
“Yeah, I didn’t want to wake you.” She grins happily and piles hash browns and eggs on a plate.
“I know I didn’t have that stuff in the kitchen,” I mutter and kiss her cheek before I fill a mug with hot coffee. “God, you even made coffee.”
“I went to the grocery store this morning. You didn’t have much of anything except beer and pizza boxes.”
“You went to the store looking like that?” I’ll have to kill every man she came across today, on principle alone.
She rolls her eyes and smirks. “No, jackass, I wore pants.”
“Gee, that’s reassuring.” I take a sip of my life-affirming coffee and watch her set the table.
She looks good in my kitchen.
She looks good anywhere.
“I hope you like your eggs scrambled,” she mutters and pulls bacon out of the oven. “I don’t know how to make an omelet.”
“You don’t?”
“No, I always mess them up.” She shrugs and motions for me to sit.
“This looks great, thank you.” I lean over and kiss her softly, thoroughly, and then dig in.
“You’re welcome.” She smiles softly.
God, I’d do anything to get her to smile at me like that every damn day.
“What’s up for today?” I ask and shovel potatoes into my mouth. Damn, she’s a good cook.
“I have to go to yoga. I haven’t worked out much since I got sick.”
“Okay.”
“How about you?” she asks and sips some orange juice.
“I have to make some calls, do a little work.” She fidgets in her chair, and she frowns for just a second, but I catch it. “What’s wrong?”
She looks up, startled. “Nothing.”
“You frowned.”
“I did?”
“You did.”
She shakes her head and shrugs. “I didn’t do it consciously.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yeah.” She eats her bacon and licks her lips, and damn if I don’t want to scoop her up and take her back to bed.
We clean our plates, and I clear the table and load the dishwasher. My eyes constantly move back to the beautiful woman sitting at my table, sipping orange juice.
“I noticed when I went through your T-shirt drawer that you don’t have the shirt from our last tour,” I mention casually.
“I don’t. I couldn’t go to the show. We were in Tahiti for Luke and Nat’s wedding.” She scowls then and sticks her lower lip out in a pout, and I can’t help but laugh.
“It’s just a concert, sunshine.”
“I literally had a moment when I thought about telling them I couldn’t go to Tahiti so I could go to the show.” She shrugs, her cheeks going pink with embarrassment.
I pull her to her feet and lead her to the stairs.
“Well, that’s just crazy.”
“I wanted to go.”
I look back at her, following me up the stairs, and her eyes are on my ass.
“Besides, your drummer is hot.”
I round on her when we get to the landing. “Excuse me?”
“The drummer. You know, the guy who sits behind the big round things that make noise?”
“Yes, I’m aware of what a drummer is.”
“Well, yours is hot.”
“You like Eric, do you?”
“Oh, is that his name?” she asks innocently. Little brat.
“You know it is,” I respond and pin her against the wall.
Her breathing increases, and her eyes go wide and fall to my lips, to my piercing.
It’s funny to me that the lip is what turns her on.
I drop my lips to hers and kiss her long and slow, thoroughly, pressing my cock against her belly as I lift her off the floor. She moans and wraps her arms around my neck, sinks her hands in my hair and pulls on my metal with her teeth.
I lower her back to her feet and turn away toward the bedroom.
“Hey!” she exclaims.
“What?” I glance back with a raised brow.
“What was that for?”
“For teasing me about my band. You can never meet Eric now. I’ll have to kill him, and he’s too good to replace.”
She laughs her raspy, throaty laugh, and follows me into the bedroom.
“So, back to the original subject.”
“Yeah, back to the kissing.”
“No, sweetheart, the subject before that.” I laugh. God, she’s funny. I pull a red gift bag out of my closet and hand it to her nervously.
Maybe this is a stupid idea.
Her eyes light up like it’s Christmas morning.
“For me?” she asks and bounces on the balls of her feet.
Note to self: She likes presents.
“I don’t see anyone else here, baby.”
“Gimme.” She extends her arms, wiggling her fingers, her sweet face all happy and glowing, and she looks like a kid.
I hand her the bag and stuff my hands in the pockets of the jeans I threw on before heading downstairs.
“Why are you nervous?” She tilts her head to the side, watching me.
“I’m not.”
Her eyes narrow as she studies me. “Uh huh. Sure.”
She knows me too well already.
“Open it.”
She tosses the white tissue paper on the floor and pulls the soft white T-shirt out of the bag, snaps it open and stares at the front, her mouth gaping open.
“It’s a Nash T-shirt,” she whispers, her eyes traveling over the photo of me and the guys on the front.
“Yeah, you were in Tahiti.” I shrug.
She immediately strips out of my shirt and pulls the tee over her head, looks down at it and back up at me with a wide smile. “I love it.”
“Good. I love seeing my name on you,” I whisper.
She launches herself into my arms and kisses me soundly. “It’s really soft,” she murmurs. “Do you have a Sharpie?”
“Probably, why?”
“Will you sign it?” She’s bouncing again, like a fan, and it makes me still for just a moment.
I don’t need a crazy fan-girl as my girlfriend.
And then I remember. This is Sam. She’s no one’s fan-girl.
“Why?” I ask again.
“In case I want to sell it on eBay.” She bats her lashes at me, and my stomach loosens. I dig around in my computer bag and pull out a black marker.
“Where do you want me to sign it, smart-ass?”
“Duh.” She rolls her eyes. She’s so getting spanked. “On my boob!”
“On your boob!” I pinch the bridge of my nose and laugh.
“Like you’ve never signed boobs before.” She smirks.
“Oh, I’ve signed my share.”
“I figured. So mine shouldn’t shock you.”
“I love your boobs.” I lean down and kiss her cheek. She has great tits.
“So sign them.” She steps back and thrusts her breast toward me, and my cock immediately strains against my jeans.
I slowly sign her shirt, right over her breast, my eyes on hers. She bites that plump bottom lip of hers and sucks in a breath, her eyes dilating.
God, she’ll be the death of me.
“All done,” I whisper.
“Thanks,” she whispers back, and then blinks, pullin
g herself out of the sexy trance. She tugs the shirt over her head, folds it carefully and places it back in the bag and walks over to her clothes.
“Stop,” I order her.
She glances at me with surprise. “What?”
“Come here.”
She frowns and stands in front of me again.
“I’m not done.”
“You signed the shirt.”
“Yeah.” My eyes follow her curves, her lines, and her nipples pucker under my gaze. “But I’d like to play.”
“With the Sharpie?”
I shrug.
“You want to draw on me?”
“You are a beautiful blank canvas, sunshine.”
She blinks at me, mulling the idea over, and then smiles slowly. “Okay, but then I want something, too.”
“What would that be?”
“I want to lick your stars.”
“You don’t need my permission to do that, you know.” My stomach clenches at the thought. When her lips and tongue touch my hips, I about go out of my mind.
She just shrugs happily. “That’s what I want.”
“Done. Come stand by the mirror.”
“I don’t get to lie down?” She pouts.
“Hell no, you get to watch.” I grin and lead her to the full-length mirror that hangs on the bathroom door and turn her so her back is facing the mirror, but she can look over her shoulder to watch.
I uncap the marker and start on her shoulder blades, drawing clouds and birds, a sun, and she gasps, bites her lip and watches with fascination.
“You’re good.”
“I like to doodle,” I murmur and keep focused on the task at hand. Once I turn her and start working on her breasts and sweet stomach, I’ll lose my concentration.
I continue to move the ink over her skin, adding an ocean and palm trees, sand, starfish. Along the bottom, across the top of her ass, I draw a music bar and add the notes to one of my favorite songs that I wrote called Wrapped in You. It’s a ballad, and one she’d know. We play it at every show.
“You’re writing music?!”
“I’ve already written this one, just putting it below the picture.”
I glide the marker down her legs in long swirls, drawing random designs on her white flesh.
“Wow, you’re good. Did you draw your own tats?” she asks.
“Some of them. Some I had done.”
“What’s up with the tats on your hands?” She’s watching my hand closely. She always traces the ink with her fingertip.
I shrug. “It reminds me to slow down.”
“But the word implies going fast.” She frowns.
“Exactly.”
“Who knew you were so deep?” She smirks, and I smack her ass hard. She squeals and laughs. “I like to have my ass smacked, you know.”
“I know.” I grin up at her and smack her again. “Okay, turn around.”
She obeys, and I smile in approval. The front will be a bit different. I draw another music bar, diagonal, running from her left hip, over her sternum, to her right shoulder, but low enough that her clothing will hide it.
I add the notes, from the same song on her back. When it’s finished, I start on the flowers.
Cherry blossoms, looping around the music, down her stomach, over her ribs.
She braces her hands on my shoulders. Her eyes are pinned to the mirror over my head, watching intently. Her breathing is shallow, and I can smell her arousal.
She’s so fucking turned on. I can’t wait to sink inside her.
I finish the petals that weave around her pussy and then, on her hip, I sign my name.
Not because I’m the artist, but because she’s mine.
I’m completely in love with her. I just don’t know how to tell her, because I’m afraid that as soon as I do, she’ll run at full speed in the other direction.
“All done,” I murmur and stand back, watching her turn in circles, admiring the art in the mirror.
“It’s gorgeous. I thought you’d draw some stupid stick figures or write ‘Leo was here.’” She laughs. Her face sobers when she sees my expression in the mirror.
“I want you,” I tell her.
“I’m right here.”
I can’t stop looking at her. At the stark black lines on her soft white skin. At her pink cheeks, flushed with lust. At her hot blue eyes, raking over my own naked torso. Her eyes still on the stars on my hips, and then jump back up to mine, and I can’t stand it any longer.
I lift her in my arms and carry her to the bed, lower her gently to the mattress and shuck my jeans to join her.
“It’s my turn,” she whispers.
***
~Samantha~
I push Leo onto his back and kiss his chest, his shoulders, down his ribs. I nuzzle his belly button with my nose, enjoying the way his muscles clench at my touch. Gripping his hips in my hands, I kneel between his legs and lower my lips to the blue and red star on his left hip, kissing and licking, tracing the lines.
“I fucking love these stars,” I whisper, and switch sides, paying extra special attention to the scar above the ink, tracing the line of muscle that forms that sexy-as-fuck V.
Leo grips my head gently in his hands and swears softly, and I grin as I plant kisses down his happy trail to his hard cock.
I lick from the base to the tip and suck him in, grip him in my fist, and fuck him with my mouth. He tastes delicious, smooth yet hard at the same time.
“God, Sam,” he growls and fists my hair in his hands, guiding me up and down his glorious dick.
I pull back and lick his scrotum, earning me another growl. He clenches his eyes shut and throws his head back, but I want his eyes on me.
“Watch,” I whisper and smile encouragingly when his eyes find mine. I kiss the underside of the tip and then lick it and sink down over it again, until I feel him against the back of my throat, tighten my lips around him and lift up, and repeat the motion over and over again until I feel his balls tighten and lift, and his legs become restless. He’s gasping for breath.
I fucking love the effect I have on him.
“Stop,” he whispers.
I ignore him.
“Stop, Sam, I don’t want to come in your mouth.” He grips my shoulders and pulls me on top of him and kisses me deeply. “Your sassy mouth is gonna kill me.”
“Not a bad way to go,” I murmur and nip his chin. I straddle his hips and sit up, slide my wetness over his cock, and moan. He’s tracing the music drawn on my belly. “What is it?” I ask.
“Wrapped in You.” He smiles shyly, and I gasp. That’s my favorite Nash song. “Do you like that one?” he asks.
I smooth my face and shrug. “It’s okay.”
Before I can blink, he grips my hands in his and reverses our positions, pushing me flat on my back, my hands held in one of his large ones over my head and his pelvis pressed to mine. “Admit it,” he whispers.
“Admit what?”
“You like it.”
I smirk up at him and try to pull my hands down, but he presses them harder against the bed. “It’s fine.”
With his free hand, he gently brushes loose tendrils of my hair away from my face, lowers his torso until his face is just inches from mine, and softly, so, so softly, begins to sing.
You make me tremble
When I hold you like this
Your skin glowing in the moonlight
You have me all wrapped in you…
His voice is incredible. Even when he’s just talking, I can’t get enough of it, but when he sings, I’m lost to him.
He releases my hands, and I caress his face gently with my fingertips and pull his lips to mine and pour how I feel about him into this kiss, my hands on his face.
I am wrapped in him.
When he pulls back, I offer him a small smile. “That’s my favorite Nash song.”
“Really?” he breathes, his eyes are happy.
“Really. Who did you write it for?”
He frowns for just a moment and looks down at my lips, then back to my eyes. “I didn’t write it for anyone.” He kisses my nose. “But I think it fits how I feel about you. I’ll never sing it again without thinking of you.”
“You are so good to me,” I whisper.
“You deserve so much,” he whispers and kisses me again, deeper this time, and I feel him reach over to his bedside to grab a condom.
“I want you inside me, babe.”
“I can do that.” He grins and pushes inside me, until he’s completely buried in me, and stops. “How’s that.”
“It’s okay.” I shrug and bite my lower lip, teasing him.
“Do you think you can do better?” He raises his eyebrows and then, just as swiftly as he put me in this position, he reverses us again, so I’m straddling his lap and lying over his lean body. “Have at it.”
I gladly sit up and begin to ride him, clenching around him with every push and pull, up and down, reveling in his hands firmly planted on my ass, guiding me. His eyes are feral, pinned to mine.
“Feels so good,” I mutter and lean forward to brace my hands on his shoulders, bucking my hips, grinding my clit against his pubic bone, and I feel the energy gathering in my core, ready to be ripped from me.
“My God, you’re so fucking beautiful.” His hands cup my breasts and pinch my nipples, hard, and then he soothes them with the pads of his callused fingers. He suddenly sits up, his face level with mine, and kisses me hard, bites my lip and slaps my right ass cheek.
I lean down and suck on his neck, bite the muscle at the top of his shoulder and go crazy when he pulls me down hard, circling his hips, and makes me come, my orgasm ripping through me.
“That’s it, baby.” He licks up and down my neck, and when I come down from the high, he slips his hand between us, and rubs my clit with the pad of his thumb, and I come again, making him groan.
I feel his body tighten. His arm clenches around me, and he comes with me, shouting my name as he lets loose.
“Holy fuck,” I whisper and chuckle when all he can do is smile. “I guess I don’t need that trip to yoga today.”
“Let’s go for a run later.” He tucks my hair behind my ear. “I’ve missed running with you.”
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