Complication (Rock Stars & Romance Book 6)

by A. K. Evans

  “I’ll let you get back to him,” I said softly. “I love you, Addy.”

  She stepped forward, wrapped her arms around me, and returned, “I love you, too, Sienna.”

  After separating ourselves from one another, Addy took off in one direction while I went in the other. I made it to the bridal suite—which was different from the honeymoon suite Addy and Tyler would be in tonight—and retrieved my bag. Without an ounce of hesitation, I left the bridal suite and moved right down the hall toward the elevator.

  Though the butterflies in my belly were out in full force, I didn’t stop myself from stepping on that elevator and pressing the button that would lead me to the third floor. And when it came to a stop, and the doors opened to reveal the devastatingly handsome man I’d been staring at all night, I walked right off and into his arms.

  He didn’t even wait until the doors had closed before he drove his hand into my hair and kissed me senseless right in the hallway.

  It was the best kiss of my entire life.

  Four

  Sienna

  Nothing could have prepared me for this.

  Nothing.

  After Roscoe managed to tear his mouth away from mine just outside the elevator, he stared into my eyes as my chest rose and fell rapidly. He stayed like that for barely a moment before he took me by the hand and dragged me down the hall toward his suite.

  No sooner did he open the door and allow me to walk inside when I was hauled back against his body. I dropped my bag right there on the floor as Roscoe pressed his front into my back. One of his hands drove into my hair to angle and tilt my head so he could kiss me again. The other hand was pressed flat against my abdomen.

  Overcome by all that was happening and all that had happened throughout the evening, I was unable to stop myself.

  I arched my back, pressing my ass into his groin.

  Roscoe groaned as his tongue swept into my mouth and dueled with mine. At the same time, his hand that had been pressed against my abdomen drifted up my body, cupped my breast, and squeezed. Then it was my turn to moan.

  It had been too long, far too long, and I needed what he had for me. I wanted what I could feel pressing into my backside. So, I begrudgingly tore my mouth away from his and begged, “Roscoe, please.”

  He held my gaze briefly. The next thing I knew, he spun me in his arms and urged me to walk backward.

  Oddly enough, I trusted him to guide me to where we were going, and I didn’t hesitate to pick my feet up and move. I’d go wherever he wanted me to go if it meant that he was going to give this to me.

  After urging me to turn to the side while I continued to move in reverse, I realized I’d stepped into another room. But I didn’t have a chance to turn around and look at it because Roscoe reached behind my neck and unclasped the halter top of my dress.

  The style of the dress meant that my back was bare, and I wasn’t wearing a bra, so the moment he unhooked the clasp and pulled the sides apart, the fabric covering my breasts fell down, exposing me to him.

  My lips parted, and my breaths came slowly, but my heart pounded wildly in my chest. Roscoe bent slightly at his waist, cupped both breasts in his hands, and captured one in his mouth.

  A moan escaped from the back of my throat while one of my hands went behind his head to hold him there. He licked and swirled his tongue over my nipple before he sucked my breast deep into his mouth. And his thumb and forefinger pinched and tweaked the opposite nipple.

  It felt glorious.

  Roscoe eventually switched sides, but I was such a mess of sexual tension that I found it hard to stand up straight or even remain still. He must have realized I was struggling because he freed my breast from his mouth and said, “Turn around, Sienna.”

  A shudder ran through me, hearing him say my name with that gravelly tone to his voice. I turned around and felt his knuckles brush up against the middle of my back, where he unzipped my dress.

  Within seconds, it pooled at my feet, leaving me there in nothing but a thong.

  “Stay like that,” he ordered just as I was about to turn around to face him.

  I froze on the spot and listened. While I couldn’t be absolutely certain it was what he was doing, I hoped that Roscoe was undressing himself. I got confirmation that I was getting my wish when I saw the jacket from his tuxedo land on the edge of the bed in front of me. A moment later, his tie was on the floor beside my dress, and his shirt followed it there.

  I heard a belt next. Then a zipper.

  I was so in tune with listening to what was happening behind me, wanting desperately to turn around and see him nearly naked—or completely naked, if he preferred—that I hadn’t been anticipating what happened next.

  Roscoe palmed my ass, squeezing, as he reached around to my front and played with my nipple.

  It took all I had not to allow my knees to buckle as a rush of air left my lungs. The next thing I knew, I felt the naked and heated skin of Roscoe’s torso pressing into my back as his hand on my ass slid around to my lower abdomen, just beneath my bellybutton.

  “Are you wet, Sienna?” he whispered in my ear.

  I couldn’t speak, but that didn’t matter. Because before I could even open my mouth to attempt to answer, Roscoe’s hand at my abdomen began to drift lower, sliding beneath the fabric of my underwear.

  There was so much tension built up that I had no choice but to reach my arm back and grip his outer thigh. He pressed his erection into me just as his fingers slipped between my legs.

  “Baby,” I breathed.

  Roscoe groaned and gently nibbled on my earlobe. When he freed it, he continued to play between my legs and said, “Yeah, that’s what I thought I’d find here.”

  “Please,” I begged again.

  Roscoe began peppering kisses down along the side of my neck and over the top of my shoulder, never once relenting in the movement of his hand. Then he asked, “What do you want, baby girl? You want me to fuck you?”

  I did.

  I absolutely wanted him to fuck me.

  I was desperate for it.

  But what he was already doing felt too good for me to say anything to stop him. Roscoe’s fingers swirled around, putting pressure exactly where I needed it.

  I moaned and rolled my hips, feeling myself climb higher. And then, it happened. Roscoe plunged a finger inside me. I cried out with pleasure as he shared, “I’m going to fuck you with my fingers first. Then I’ll give you my cock and fuck you hard.”

  “Roscoe,” I breathed, reaching my arm up and around the back of his neck as I leaned the weight of my upper back into his chest in an attempt to angle my hips for more friction.

  Roscoe gave me a second finger.

  “That’s it, Sienna. Ride my fingers, baby.”

  I did exactly as he instructed, and I did it with growing fervor.

  Anything.

  I was willing to do absolutely anything to get there. And if Roscoe wanted me to ride his fingers to have it, I was going to do just that.

  “Kiss me,” he ordered.

  I twisted my neck in his direction and gave him my mouth. His tongue swept into my mouth, and the higher I climbed, the louder he groaned. My hips were moving so fast, and I was on such a mission to get what I needed that I only just barely noticed the fatigue starting to settle in my legs.

  Then, like a shot, it hit me.

  I had to pull my mouth away from Roscoe’s because it was too much. I whimpered and panted as my legs began to tremble. Roscoe held me up against him as my orgasm tore through me, his fingers continuing to work me between my legs.

  Wave after wave moved through me until finally it was gone.

  Roscoe pulled his fingers from my body, and without waiting for him to say anything, I turned in his arms, pressed my breasts against his chest, and threw my arms over his shoulders. When my mouth landed on his, he lifted me up, forcing my legs to come up and wrap around his waist.

  And then I was down. My back hit the bed, and Roscoe’s bod
y hovered over mine.

  Feeling that, having the weight of his strong body on top of me, was like being wrapped up in a warm blanket on a cold, winter day. He felt so good. And familiar.

  I loved it.

  He kissed me a little while longer, grinding his erection right between my legs. He eventually pulled his mouth from mine and was about to lift his torso from mine, but I stopped him. Pressing my hands to either side of his head, I took a moment to search his face. Something moved through it, but before I could figure out what it was, it was gone, and he had pulled out of my hold.

  But he didn’t leave me completely.

  Roscoe gripped the fabric of my thong at my hips and yanked it down my legs.

  Then he stood up and pulled off his boxer briefs, finally giving me my first real look at him. I propped myself up on my forearms and allowed my eyes to rake over his body. He was magnificent. And as he moved to the side of the bed to grab a condom out of the box of condoms that I just then noticed happened to be sitting there, I could only focus on one thing.

  His penis.

  It was long, thick, and seriously hard.

  Smiling, I felt proud.

  I did that.

  I’d made Roscoe Perry’s cock hard.

  And my attention was so focused on his manhood that it wasn’t until I heard him speak that I redirected my gaze.

  “I’m not sure I’ve ever seen such an accomplished look on a woman’s face before,” he said.

  I bit my lip, struggling against breaking into full-blown laughter. Once I thought I had it under control, I replied, “I just like how I’m not the only one here with evidence of being turned on.”

  “You thought I invited you here because I wasn’t turned on the moment I saw you today?” he countered as he sheathed himself.

  My eyes widened. “That was in the church!” I exclaimed. “You can’t be turned on in church.”

  He shrugged just before he bent over my body. When his mouth was inches away from mine, he replied, “I’m sure God will forgive me.”

  “I’m not so sure about that,” I whispered.

  “He knows who I am. He made me.”

  At that, Roscoe ended the conversation by touching his lips to mine. They moved down along my jaw and up to my ear.

  “Spread your legs and guide me in, Sienna,” he whispered when he made it there.

  He lifted his body enough to allow me to spread my legs and reach down for him. I guided him where he needed to be, and when he pushed inside, I was completely captivated by the look on his face.

  Roscoe stayed planted to the root as his eyes searched my face. And when he’d gotten whatever he needed to get from that, he began to move.

  There was nothing about what happened next that was slow, sweet, or tame. When Roscoe promised that he’d fuck me hard, he did just that.

  I loved every single second of it.

  Because not only did it feel incredible, but it also cleared up any confusion that might have been lingering about what this was between us.

  This was just sex.

  This was fucking.

  This was about, at least for me, scratching an itch that had started many years ago.

  Roscoe’s friends were wrong. This didn’t mean anything more than just physical pleasure. And I was completely okay with that because there was no way to feel disappointed about what he was giving to me.

  He had lifted his torso from mine and powered his hips forward, his feet still on the floor at the end of the bed. Roscoe’s hands roamed over my body, moving from my thighs to my hips, and up over my breasts before coming down between my legs.

  His thrusts were powerful, his touch was tantalizing, and his stamina was everlasting.

  He gave and gave and gave.

  “Roscoe,” I panted, feeling like I was on the verge of having an out-of-body experience.

  “Are you going to come, babe?”

  “Kiss me,” I pleaded.

  Roscoe didn’t disappoint. He leaned forward, thrust harder, moved faster, and kissed me. His tongue plunged into my mouth as my fingers drove into his hair. All of that, combined with the sounds of bodies slapping together and the scent of sex in the air, had the pleasure building rapidly. It started deep in my belly and built quicker than I had anticipated.

  “Oh, God,” I moaned.

  My legs wrapped around Roscoe’s waist as my nails drifted down from his scalp and dug into the skin on his upper back and shoulders.

  This orgasm was nothing like I’d felt before, not even the one Roscoe had delivered earlier with his hand. He pounded harder and harder into me, working me through it, and just when I started to come down, he threw his head back, found his own release, and shouted, “Fuck, Sienna. Fuck.”

  For several long moments afterward, Roscoe and I didn’t move. We stayed just like that with the sound of our labored breathing around us. His face was buried in my neck, and my legs were still wrapped tight around his waist.

  “I’m happy to report that you’ve delivered,” I said, finally breaking the silence between us.

  He lifted his head from my neck, looked down at me, and asked, “Delivered?”

  Smiling, I reminded him, “Yeah. You said you were going to show me a good night.”

  Roscoe cocked an eyebrow. “It’s still early, babe. We’ve got plenty of time to turn this into a spectacular night.

  My brows shot up in surprise. “More?”

  Shooting me a look of disbelief, he countered, “Did you think I’d only want one go at you?”

  “I didn’t exactly come into this day thinking you’d want even that,” I blurted.

  As soon as the words escaped my mouth, I snapped my lips together. Roscoe’s expression turned curious.

  “What is that supposed to mean?” he asked.

  I shook my head. “Nothing.”

  I was sure if Roscoe believed me, but he dropped it and said, “Okay. Unhook your legs so I can get this condom off. You want to get cleaned up before we go at it again?”

  He wasn’t playing around.

  “Yeah,” I rasped.

  With that, I unhooked my legs and allowed Roscoe to pull out. Then we took turns getting ourselves cleaned up.

  And as I walked out of the bathroom and back to the bed, I saw that Roscoe was already ready to go again.

  I didn’t waste any time. Giving him a sly grin, I climbed onto the bed and crawled over to him. As soon as he could reach me, he pulled me on top of his body and captured my mouth with his. Right there commenced round two.

  I lost track of how many condoms we used after the third one.

  Now I understood the value-size box on the nightstand.

  Of course, that didn’t mean that I thought Roscoe came into his sister’s wedding thinking that we’d hook up with each other. My guess was that he knew who he was and that he’d probably have options at the wedding.

  The fact that I knew that and was still here in bed with him in this suite might have said more about me than it did about him, but I didn’t care.

  Somehow, after a mostly sleepless night—the result of Roscoe keeping me up and fully satisfied—my eyes opened and found a wall of solid, muscular chest in front of them. Roscoe wasn’t a guy who liked to cuddle, but I guess that made sense, given what I knew about him.

  I tipped my head back slightly and looked up at his face. His eyes were still closed, and while I’d always known that he had incredible eyes, it was then that I learned something else about him. Roscoe had extremely long lashes that rested on the skin beneath his eyes.

  My gaze drifted down to his lips, lips that had spent the better part of the night against mine. I itched to touch them with my fingers. But just as I started to move my hand in that direction, his eyes opened.

  He looked down at me, smiled, and said, “Good morning, Sienna.”

  “Morning, Roscoe,” I murmured.

  He didn’t hesitate to reach out and rest his hand on my bare hip. Squeezing me there, he asked, “Have you been
awake long?”

  “Not even two minutes,” I answered.

  “Got plans today?” he pressed.

  That question surprised me. Was he simply making small talk, or did he want to make plans with me?

  “I figured the wedding would wear me out, so I put zero things on my schedule today,” I informed him.

  He grinned. “I’ve got to get back on a plane later this afternoon to head back out on tour, but I think we’ve got time for a shower together this morning. You up for it?”

  I was definitely up for it.

  “Yeah.”

  With that, Roscoe tossed the blanket back, got out of the bed, and reached for my leg. He pulled me to his side of the bed, picked me up, and carried me to the bathroom.

  Not long after we were in the shower, he dropped to his knees and put his mouth between my legs. It was glorious. Of course, once he’d taken me there again, I returned the favor. But somewhere in the middle of it, Roscoe pulled his hips back, procured a condom from what seemed like thin air, turned me around, and urged my hands to the wall. Then he fucked me again from behind.

  Once we finished in the shower and were both getting dressed, Roscoe asked, “Did you bring a car here yesterday?”

  “No. I figured I’d call for an Uber this morning,” I answered.

  “I can drive you home,” he offered.

  “Oh, I know you probably have a million things to do before you hop back on a plane,” I stated. “You don’t have to add taking me home to the list.”

  Roscoe stopped getting dressed and stood there staring at me. He was only wearing a pair of boxer briefs and jeans. He looked beyond sexy.

  But he was also wearing an annoyed expression on his face.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked, feeling alarmed.

  “I don’t know what you think of me, Sienna, but I’m not a total dick,” he said. “You’re my baby sister’s best friend, and you’ve just spent the night with me. The least I can do is take you home.”

  “I’m sorry,” I lamented. “I wasn’t trying to imply anything about you. I just didn’t want to make things more difficult.”

  Roscoe lifted his shirt over his head. “It’s not a problem.”