Complication (Rock Stars & Romance Book 6)

by A. K. Evans

  I didn’t want him feeling badly about it.

  “Roscoe?” I called.

  “Yeah?”

  I hesitated a moment before I shared, “My dress is short.”

  “Okay? What does that mean?”

  “I’m right-handed.”

  Roscoe stared at me like I was crazy. Clearly, he couldn’t put this together on his own.

  I sighed and clarified, “My wrist is broken, so I have to use my left hand for so many other things. That’s challenging enough. But having to do certain things without my dominant hand while being pregnant is not only not easy, but it’s just not safe. And I don’t want to risk hurting myself or the baby.”

  At that declaration, Roscoe stood and moved toward me. “What are you planning to do that could result in you getting hurt?” he asked when he came to a stop in front of me.

  “I need to shave my legs,” I murmured.

  Where I expected to see a look of disgust on Roscoe’s face was a smile instead. “I’ll do it for you.”

  “What?”

  “I’ll shave your legs for you. It’s fine if you don’t want me to, but I’m more than happy to help you, Sienna. I told you days ago that if there’s anything you need, I’d give it to you.”

  He was incredible.

  I never expected him to be willing to do something like this.

  Maybe he really wasn’t as attached to his old lifestyle as he seemed to think he would have been when he first learned about the pregnancy.

  “You really wouldn’t mind?” I asked, still feeling a bit of disbelief.

  Roscoe reached for my hand and urged, “Come with me.”

  Without another word, he led me toward the stairs and allowed me to climb them ahead of him. When we reached the top, he placed his hand at the small of my back and guided me toward his bedroom.

  My heart started beating fast in my chest.

  Taking me through the bedroom, Roscoe showed me to the master bathroom. Once inside, he didn’t hesitate to turn on the water in the shower. When he looked back at me, he said, “You can leave the suit on if you want or take it off. I don’t mind either way. I’ll go grab all your stuff out of the guest bathroom shower, okay?”

  I nodded. “Okay.”

  When he walked out, I stood there staring at the space in front of me.

  You can leave the suit on if you want or take it off.

  I didn’t know if I could strip down completely in front of him, even though he had obviously already seen all of me very naked.

  But I hadn’t groomed myself in weeks. I couldn’t see past my growing bump to my vagina.

  Oh, I’d be mortified.

  The suit was staying on.

  I stepped into the shower just as Roscoe returned, carrying my shampoo, conditioner, shaving cream, razor, and body cleanser. He set everything down on the sink, pulled his shirt over his head, and allowed his jeans to drop to the ground. He brought his hands to the waistband of his boxer briefs, but when he looked up and saw me in the shower, he let them go.

  Roscoe had been planning to strip, saw that I hadn’t, and decided against it.

  Damn.

  After gathering everything in his arms again, he entered the shower.

  “Thank you for grabbing everything,” I said.

  “You’re welcome. I didn’t forget anything, did I?” he asked.

  Technically, my facial cleanser was still there, but it wasn’t his fault. The cleanser was on the sink and not in the shower.

  “Nope. You got it all.”

  With my right hand still in my cast and covered up, I ran my left hand over my hair. Roscoe’s eyes remained focused on me the entire time, and I swore I could see the excitement in them. His chest was rising and falling a bit rapidly. Seeing that, I felt a little more at ease. At least I wasn’t the only one feeling nervous.

  Once my hair was all wet, I used my left hand to open the cap before picking it up and placing it between my casted arm and my body so I could squeeze some out. Before I could do that, though, Roscoe took it from me and said, “Let me help you. Turn around.”

  I held his gaze for a few seconds but ultimately turned around.

  The next thing I knew, I felt Roscoe’s strong hands massaging the shampoo into my hair and scalp. It felt so good, I couldn’t stop myself from letting out a moan.

  Eventually, he placed his hands on my shoulders and urged, “Turn again.”

  I turned and dropped my head back while he used his hands to push the suds back and away from my face.

  He repeated the same steps with the conditioner.

  As soon as that was rinsed out, he asked, “Do you want to sit so I can take care of your legs?”

  Roscoe had a walk-in shower that was the size of my whole bathroom in my apartment. It came complete with a bench. If I had known he had this, I would have simply asked to use his shower so I could shave myself. I thought I might be able to reach most spots safely if I was sitting down.

  But now that we were here, I wasn’t going to stop it. It was kind of nice being pampered like this. Plus, Roscoe was nearly naked, and I enjoyed looking at him. Once I sat down, I was eye level with a very special part of him, a part that was currently very excited about what was happening here.

  I twisted my body and lifted my legs up onto the bench. And a moment later, I realized that I probably should have thought this through. Because Roscoe had squirted shaving cream into the palm of his hand and began slathering it on my legs. His hands felt so good on me, and I was almost tempted to beg him to forget about the shaving just to have him rub his hands all over me.

  Once my entire leg was covered, Roscoe got to work. He took his time and was careful, regularly rinsing off the razor before moving to a new spot.

  When all of the shaving cream was gone, he set the razor aside and inspected his work. Both hands ran up and down my leg as he checked to make sure he hadn’t missed a single spot. Having his hands on me like that again made me even more aroused, and I felt my nipples pebble beneath my bikini.

  “I already feel a million times better,” I said when he let my leg go and moved to the other side. “Thank you so much for doing this for me.”

  “I’m glad you feel better, Sienna, but I don’t need you to thank me. It’s my pleasure to take care of you.”

  A few months ago, I would have assumed he was feeding me a bunch of lies with that statement. But I didn’t feel that way now. Roscoe had proven just how much effort he wanted to put in time and time again.

  And as he began to shave my second leg, I focused my attention on his face. He was concentrating so hard, once again doing everything to make sure he didn’t cut me or miss any spots.

  When he got to the top of my thigh, right where it creased along the cut of my bikini, the fingers on his opposite hand lingered on my hip.

  He was so close. So close to where I wanted him to touch. And though I knew how much he wanted more based on what I saw happening beneath his boxer briefs, I had no doubt he wasn’t going to take that step.

  So, after he set the razor down and ran his hands up my calf, I prepared myself. His hands kept moving up my leg, over my knee, and up my thigh. As soon as his hand on my inner thigh had gotten about halfway up my thigh, I reached for it.

  Roscoe froze and looked at me.

  “Did you mean it?” I asked.

  “Did I mean what?”

  I swallowed hard, feeling the ache between my legs growing stronger and stronger by the second. “When you said I could ask you for help with anything.”

  The look in his eyes intensified. “Every single word of it,” he assured me.

  “Unless I’ve stood naked in front of the mirror, I haven’t been able to see myself in a little while,” I started. “There hasn’t been much grooming going on down there, so I’ll apologize in advance. But I don’t think I’m going to survive if you don’t touch me before we get out of this shower.”

  “Is that what you want?” he asked.

  I no
dded.

  “I can do both for you,” he offered.

  “Really?”

  “Baby girl, I’ll do anything for you.”

  I stared at him, feeling completely dumbfounded. I didn’t know what to say.

  He must have realized he was having a profound effect on me because he pressed a hand to my shoulder and urged, “Lay back, Sienna.”

  I laid back a bit as Roscoe reached for the ties on each side of my bathing suit. His eyes came to mine as he pulled the strings. Once he had it untied, he brought his hands to my knees and requested, “Let me see you.”

  “I’m so embarrassed,” I confessed.

  “Stop,” he ordered. “There’s nothing to feel embarrassed about. If anyone should feel ashamed, it’s me. There’s stuff you’ve needed from me for how long now, and I’ve been oblivious. And, honestly, it’s just hair. I’ll take care of that first since it’s bothering you so much. Then I’ll give you what I should have given you a long time ago.”

  I was beginning to think that Roscoe wasn’t real. Or that the guy in the shower with me now had to be some kind of imposter.

  But when I felt him give my knees a gentle squeeze, I stopped thinking about that nonsense and slowly parted my legs. While I did that, Roscoe reached for my shaving cream.

  The anticipation built, my body on edge, waiting for his touch. And then it happened. Roscoe didn’t make it sexual. He did exactly as he said he was going to do and began tending to me. His hands were extremely gentle as he lathered me up, and his expression was of pure concentration and focus when he began to shave me.

  Just when I thought I could relax, Roscoe had started checking to make sure he hadn’t missed any spots. His fingers were featherlight on my skin.

  “I think you’re all good now,” he said. “Let me help you up so we can rinse you off.”

  Roscoe leaned over and allowed me to wrap my arms around his neck. Sliding his hands beneath my back, he carefully helped me upright until I was standing in front of him, my body plastered against his.

  “Thank you,” I said softly, my mouth at his ear.

  I loosened my hold, reached for a washcloth, and asked, “Can you lather this up with my cleanser, please? I’ve got to get this chlorine off my body.”

  Roscoe did as I asked while I reached behind my back and untied my top.

  He kept his attention on me as he got the washcloth ready for me. And when I tossed my bathing suit top aside, he said, “Turn around.”

  I turned around.

  Roscoe swept my hair to the side before he brought the cloth to my back. Then he washed my back for me.

  God, it felt amazing.

  When he finished, he put the cloth in my hand and turned me around to face him. As I began to clean my body, he put his hands to the waistband of his underwear and pushed them down his legs. He picked up a bar of soap and began to lather up his own body. My eyes were roaming all over him.

  Every part.

  My nipples were hard. I felt an intense ache between my legs. My body craved his.

  After tossing the washcloth aside, I stepped back under the spray and allowed the water to rinse the soap from my body.

  I had tipped my head back and closed my eyes, trying to breathe through the growing sexual tension I was experiencing, when I suddenly I felt Roscoe’s hands on me. One hand came to my hip and slipped around behind me to my ass while the other held my breast. His thumb swiped over my nipple once before his mouth dropped to it.

  My uninjured hand went behind his head and held him there as I panted.

  Roscoe’s hand that had settled on my ass drifted back to my front while he shifted his body to the side of mine. Tearing his mouth away from my nipple as his hand left my breast, his fingers drove into my hair, and his mouth captured mine.

  Roscoe groaned the moment our lips touched. His hand that had been resting on my stomach drifted down between my legs. His fingers played with me there, and his tongue swept into my mouth.

  I was so turned on. It had been far too long, and I wasn’t sure it was going to take much to get me where I was going. Roscoe’s fingers rubbed and circled my clit, the endless pleasure almost feeling like torture.

  Wanting to give him something, I reached my hand out, curled my fingers around his cock, and I began to stroke. Roscoe tugged back gently on my hair, separating our mouths. He groaned again, his eyes completely fixed on me.

  His fingers began to move faster and built me up quicker. His cock was rock hard, and I couldn’t wait to have it inside me.

  But I couldn’t tell him that.

  Because within seconds, I felt myself on the verge of an orgasm.

  “Roscoe, I’m going to come,” I warned him.

  He did not deny me. Roscoe took me there as my knees buckled and my head fell forward into the crook of his neck. Wave after wave of pleasure rolled over me, and it was a wonder I was able to remain standing.

  When it left me and he slowed the pace of his fingers, I pulled my face from his neck and looked up at him.

  He smiled at me.

  “I want more,” I told him.

  Roscoe brought both hands up to frame my face. He captured my mouth in a bruising kiss before he pulled back.

  “I want you to know that sometime after I learned about the pregnancy, but before you were living here with me, maybe about two weeks before then, I went to the doctor and got myself tested. Everything came back clear. I know we made a baby somehow, despite using protection, so I wanted to be sure that if I was lucky enough to end up inside you again that you wouldn’t have anything to worry about,” he shared.

  He went to the doctor to be tested in case he was lucky enough to end up inside me again? Is that how he saw this? He was the lucky one?

  “Maria,” I said, unable to avoid the topic.

  “What about her?” he countered.

  “Didn’t you leave here that night and go to her?” I asked.

  Disbelief washed over him. “Sienna, I did not sleep with Maria. You’ve thought that this whole time since that night?”

  I nodded.

  “Baby, I wouldn’t do that to you. I’d never walk out of this house with you inside just so I could go and fuck another woman. I promise I haven’t been with anybody in months now,” he said.

  I held his gaze. He hadn’t been with anybody in months.

  I couldn’t begin to put into words how that made me feel.

  “If you still want me to use a condom, I will,” he said when I took too long to respond. “But I figured with no risk of getting you pregnant again, it might be nice not to have to fuss with it.”

  “I trust you,” I told him.

  And I did.

  Relief swept through him as he nodded his head slightly. After kissing my mouth one more time, he instructed, “Turn around and put your hands against the wall.”

  I did not hesitate to do as he asked, adding in a slight bend at my waist.

  Roscoe grabbed my ass and squeezed first. Then one of his hands came to my hip. A moment later, I felt the tip of his penis as it ran along my vagina. The next thing I knew, he was filling me.

  “Fuck, baby,” he growled once he was planted to the root. “Fuck, you feel beautiful.”

  I would have told him the same, but I couldn’t get the words out. It had been far too long. Months without him. And feeling him inside me again for the first time since our first time together was nothing short of spectacular.

  “Are you okay?” he asked.

  “Perfect,” I breathed. “Please. Please move.”

  That’s just what he did.

  Roscoe held my hips in his hands as he thrust his cock inside me. But unlike I recalled him being with me the first time we were together, Roscoe was taking his time. He had a steady rhythm, but this was much slower and more controlled.

  I loved it.

  It gave me the chance to feel every single inch of him.

  Eventually, his hands began to drift away from my hips. One came to my breast to
toy with my nipple while the other slid forward and down between my legs. I was already a mess of desire and wonderful sensations, but his hands took it up a notch.

  My moans grew louder. His grunts came faster. And when his fingers at my clit began to work me harder, I struggled to hold on.

  “Baby, you’ve got to get there,” he pleaded. “I’m not going to last much longer.”

  “Please don’t stop, “I begged.

  Several thrusts of his cock and strokes of his fingers later, I was coming apart at the seams. And the moment I let go, Roscoe allowed himself to do the same.

  We stayed like that through our orgasms, and not long after we both came down, I felt his lips press against the skin on my bare shoulder.

  “I forgot how much I liked being inside you,” he whispered.

  “Mmm.”

  That was the only response I could muster up.

  Placing his hands gently on my hips, Roscoe held me there while he pulled out. I instantly felt the loss of him and hated it.

  When I turned around, he kissed my mouth. The kiss wasn’t any ordinary kiss. It was possessive. Claiming.

  I loved everything about how it made me feel.

  Pulling his head back, Roscoe said, “Let’s get cleaned up and go pick up your dress because I want to bring you back here and eat you before I fuck you again.”

  I bit my lip.

  I couldn’t wait to have Roscoe’s mouth between my legs again. I’d really missed that.

  “Okay,” I rasped.

  And that’s just what we did.

  We cleaned ourselves up before he took me to my apartment to grab my dress for the shower tomorrow. Then he brought me back to his place, where he ate me before he fucked me again.

  It hadn’t even come close to making up for lost time, but it was certainly a start.

  Twenty-one

  Sienna

  When I felt the firm strokes of strong hands moving up and down my back, I smiled, even if I kept my eyes closed.

  My night had been particularly exhausting. But it was so very delicious and absolutely worth every missed minute of sleep.

  The deep pressure from Roscoe’s hands along my spine was such a relief that I failed to stop myself from moaning with pleasure. I heard him shift closer as I felt the bed dip with his weight.