Sweethand

by N. G. Peltier

  He pulled back. The leg around his waist fell away. “Hold that thought.” He made quick work of the towel but left his wet briefs on, enjoying the way Cherisse watched him, teeth pressed into her bottom lip, eyes heavy-lidded with lust as they made a slow perusal of his body. It made him wonder if he should have just gone for it anyway.

  He returned the favor, drinking her in as she lay there. Her hair spilled out around her head. One flimsy strap of her top had fallen down her shoulder, which led his gaze right to the breasts that pressed softly against her top. His hands had helped her already ridden-up shorts along so much that they were bunched up, pressing the material snugly between her legs and, fuck him, it wasn’t hiding shit. He bit his lips, imagining his mouth right there, drinking, lapping, sucking...

  “Fuck, you’re gorgeous.”

  “Yeah?” Her hand moved along her thigh to rest right between her legs. Her middle finger caressed herself through the shorts, and that settled it. This was how he would die.

  He hadn’t expected her to be so brazen. She was proving what he’d known all this time. Cherisse wasn’t as sweet as everyone thought.

  “Where’s Jello?”

  The hand between her legs stilled. “Really?”

  “What? It’s a legit question. It’s weird if he just shows up to watch.” Keiran loved pets but not that much.

  Cherisse bit her lip but didn’t quite hold back her smile. “That really the thing you care about right now? The most important question you have? Because I don’t have a clue where Jello got to.”

  “No, not the most important question,” he agreed, eyes jumping from her hand to the way her teeth dug into her lips, amused smile gone, replaced with need. “What do you want? At this moment, what do you want, Cherisse? God, you could ask for anything right now, and I just...tell me.” Dangerous words, but oh so accurate. The power was in her hands. He was enthralled by the motions of that finger, and Cherisse was enjoying this. Her eyes reflected her smugness.

  “Anything?” she asked. Eyelids lowered until a gleam of golden brown remained. “Take me upstairs, Keiran. That’s what I want right now.”

  Chapter 20

  Cherisse

  THE WORDS TUMBLED OUT as the throbbing grew between her legs. She was really going for this? Yes, yeah, she was. Horniness had definitely clouded her judgment. This was Keiran, after all, and she’d just asked him to take her upstairs, where they’d take this teasing further. She shushed the part of her that was trying to tell her what a bad idea this was. That it wasn’t worth the regrets that would descend later, the mess they’d have to wade through. That she was still angry with him over the fight.

  But, Keiran was looking at her with a whole load of want in his eyes, and Cherisse hadn’t had anyone look at her like that in a while. She was relishing every bit of heat in those dark eyes. The way his gaze fixed on her hand moving between her legs made her feel more powerful than she’d ever felt lately. Especially after Sean and his shit. The fucking asshole.

  “Are you sure?” he croaked. His palm kept rubbing against his thigh. Was he aware he was doing that? She allowed herself a wicked smile. Either he was trying to stop from touching himself, or he was imagining taking over for her hand. She was good with either. The idea of them getting off together like that had her body growing hotter. That was new. She’d never thought she’d be turned on by that, masturbating in front of someone, but oh, she could visualize it clearly now.

  “That it’s a good idea? No,” she admitted. “That I want to? Yes. So, do you want to fuck? Yes, or no?”

  He swallowed. She grinned. “Yes,” he said. “Condoms? Please say you have condoms. I know I said I’d do anything, but driving in that wetness isn’t my idea of fun.”

  “I do.” Remi insisted they keep restocking, whether they were getting any use out of them or not. Be prepared was both their mottos. “Besides, there’s more fun wetness to drive into right here, so...”

  Keiran snorted. “That was awful.”

  “But oh, so true.” She winked, ready to see this through. She wasn’t prepared for Keiran swooping her up in his arms. She blinked at him as she hung on, the hand she’d been using to pleasure herself digging into his shoulder as he held her, waiting.

  “Tell me where I’m going?”

  The short trek upstairs to her bedroom was ample time for sense to prevail, but when Keiran deposited her on the bed and began stripping out of her sleep shirt and those ain’t-hiding-shit wet briefs, any lingering hesitations went right outside into the pounding rain. Holy Jesus.

  “Fucking hell, dude, what the fuck?”

  She’d seen him shirtless before, but now there was no towel to block her view. Her eyes flitted from the muscles bunching in his arms to the pecs she was more than eager to take a bite out of, to his nipples, dark against all that smooth brown skin. Her tongue was eager to trace those abs, and Jesus, take the wheel, her gaze slipped lower to his hard length. He was primed and ready. His hand gripping himself as he watched her ogling him made her press her legs together to ease the throbbing.

  The thirst was real. She was ready to get down there and take all of him in her mouth.

  “I swear, that filthy mouth of yours does things to me.” He sounded like he was smirking. Damned if she knew with her eyes fixed on his hand as he kept up his lazy strokes, up and down, with a twist at the head.

  “Oh, I’ll show you filthy,” she promised. “Get over here.” She let her eyes trail back up to his face. Yup, he was smirking, head tilted to the side as he continued palming himself. He didn’t move.

  Oh, so he wanted to play right now? He would regret that. She grabbed the hem of her top and pulled it off, then got rid of her shorts until she was just in her thong. Ah, now she had his attention because it wasn’t long before she had a face full of bobbing dick. She looked up as he stood over her.

  “Ready or not,” she taunted.

  They were too worked up to go slow, kisses wild, hands grasping, cupping, and kneading every bit of flesh they could reach. Cherisse arched into the touch between her legs. Her thong had gone the way of the floor at some point, so there was not a thing to stop Keiran’s fingers from exploring, dipping inside. She rode them shamelessly. She had a brief moment of self-consciousness when he replaced them with his tongue, licking at the juncture of her thigh and pelvis. The lights were on. There was no darkness or candlelight to hide flaws in its golden glow. She shook away the doubts, refused to let Sean’s words mar this for her. All such thoughts fled as Keiran worshiped at her flesh like he was having the finest feast.

  She urged him on with the motion of her hips. With one last slow lick, Keiran raised his head, his tongue flicking out to taste her wetness from his lips. Fuck, that was hot. She pulled him in for a messy kiss, tasting herself, pressing into him as his hardness nudged her wetness. She needed him inside her now.

  “Get that fucking condom on,” she ordered.

  By the time he fumbled the condom on, Cherisse was so wet from his fingers and tongue she was ready to blow, but she was going to savor this, every slow slide, every groan that wrenched from him.

  “Jesus, fuck...just...God...lemme just...” He flipped her around to her hands and knees, and oh, he couldn’t know how much she enjoyed this position, but he’d clue in soon. She threw a sultry look over her shoulder, eyes locked onto his hips as he drove forward, reveling in the feel of his hands as he gripped her hips. She wiggled back onto him, and Keiran groaned.

  “Fuck, Cherisse.” His hand caressed her behind. She arched into him further. “You got a fucking dimple on each cheek. Who the fuck even has those?”

  She chuckled for all of a minute until he sped up his thrusts, and her laugh dissolved into a loud moan. Keiran was all heat and grinding hips at her back, punctuated by his deep groans. “Yes, harder, fucking yesss,” she spurred him on, body arching further as one big hand came round to cup her breast. Lightning sizzled to center between her legs. She was so close to coming, so close. She bit he
r lip, trying to stop herself from crying out when Keiran’s hips did this particular swirl move. Jesus, he was good at this.

  “Don’t hold back.” His lips grazed her ear as their bodies, slick with sweat, moved together.

  The loud boom of thunder happened at the exact movement she cried out, face pressed to her sheets, which did nothing to mask her loud moan as she came. Cherisse wondered if the spots of light behind her eyes were lightning, but then, that didn’t make sense, did it? Lightning came first, not after thunder. Although she’d heard one time that wasn’t entirely true—that they happened at the same time, but light traveling faster than sound and all that. Well, then, it seemed her brain was severely dick-addled at the moment. Did that orgasm just fry her brain?

  But they weren’t done. Keiran was still going. “Need. A. Minute?” His breath tickled her ear, and he punctuated each word with an annoyingly slow thrust. Oh God, that was too much.

  She shivered. “No, just...water, maybe? Fuck.” She eased away from him, turning over, so she was on her back. Keiran grinned down at her, mouth curved into a self-satisfied smile.

  “Okay, let’s get you hydrated. We’re not done yet.”

  Cherisse shamelessly ogled his taut ass as he disappeared from the room. He returned quickly, sans condom, a cup of water in hand. She wondered if he’d actually run, worried the time apart would have her nerves settling in. At this point, she was too wrung out for her brain to even conjure panic.

  His gaze was locked on her as he approached the bed. Her body flushed with heat, and Cherisse was ready for more. She couldn’t be certain she’d come again, but it would be fun to try.

  Almost at the bed, Keiran tripped on who the fuck knew what—discarded clothes, maybe—but Cherisse squealed as cold water sloshed from the cup onto her bare skin. “Fucking hell!”

  “Oh shit, sorry.”

  “If you weren’t eyeballing the girls,” she huffed, wiping at the water on her stomach.

  “Well, damn. You laid out like the best buffet I’ve ever been to, what you want me to do? The girls just there, looking like my next favorite meal.” Keiran shrugged, unrepentant, eyes locked on her breasts. Cherisse snorted. He handed her the cup. “I can fix this.” He ducked his head, warm tongue licking at the water on her skin. Oh, fuck. The cup nearly fell out of her hand. “Drink your water, Cherisse,” he instructed.

  How she managed it while his tongue flicked at her nipple, she didn’t know, but she drank it all. Heat pooled between her legs again, and what she did know was she needed him inside her again. She placed the cup on her side table with shaky hands. Easing him back with a hand on his shoulder, she scooched down until he hovered over her. He reached for another condom and rolled it on, slowly, eyes never leaving her face. Their playful banter was gone. Only the heat arcing between them, intense stares, and heavy breaths remained.

  She wondered what he saw reflected on her face. She felt too raw. Nerves too exposed. But she needed that look again, the one where he looked at her like she was everything. She shouldn’t do this. It was selfish of her to feast on his adoration like this, but she needed it. God, she needed it, especially with Sean’s cruel words still there, echoing.

  Without a word, he brought her leg up, anchored it on his hip as he eased back into her body, eyes blazing with heat and lust and awe. “You’re so fucking beautiful,” he whispered, hips back to their slow torture again.

  Cherisse held on, meeting him thrust for thrust, basking in it all as she let his words fill up her tiny cracks.

  Chapter 21

  Keiran

  KEIRAN TENDED TO THINK of himself as a fairly patient man. Came with the job when, more often than not, he had to try several different iterations of a beat before they got what they needed. But he loved his job. This session, however, was set to destroy that whole idea. He didn’t need this shit, not after last night with Cherisse.

  Keiran had slipped out of Cherisse’s apartment as soon as he’d gotten up, leaving her sprawled on her bed. He’d sent her a quick text about leaving since lingering to find something to write on would take some time. It had been a struggle not to stick around. He’d hesitated, but he didn’t want to invite trouble by running into Remi, and the rain had stopped, so he’d had no excuse to stay. Luckily, he hadn’t seen Remi on his way out. He had run into Jello. The cat had eyed him balefully as if judging him for sneaking away. He’d rather deal with a stare-down from Jello than Remi, so he’d left, squinting against the bright sun.

  He’d gotten home a few hours ago, not getting much sleep, his mind racing. So, waking up to Sean Daley, Sean’s publicist, Mara, and Sheila at his front door not too long after had been like a nightmare. Not Sheila so much, but definitely Sean, whose scowl suggested he was ready for round two of their brawl.

  Mara had ignored his loud, “What the fuck?” and announced that since he’d been ignoring his father’s phone calls and messages, she’d been sent to issue orders.

  “It’s imperative we finish the single for the first teaser promo. So, we’ll be utilizing your incident,” she wrinkled her nose before pressing on, “and painting the fight as a publicity stunt. Sheila’s track speaks to being fought over by two guys, so it’s perfect.”

  Keiran had gaped at her. “You’ve gotta be joking.”

  “I take my job seriously, and I bet you do as well. Your lack of judgment in this situation could very well affect both you and Sean. Damage control is needed. This has already created a buzz, so now we’ll take control of the narrative and spin it our way. No one is allowed to leak a word of this to anyone yet, so I suggest you say nothing until we’re ready to launch.”

  Of course, his father would find a way to use Keiran’s poor choices to his advantage. But as reluctant as he’d been to let Sean into his space right now, Keiran realized he had no choice. He was already receiving backlash from his family and friends for once again acting before thinking. The media was possibly also having a field day with this—he hadn’t looked online—adding fuel to all the rumors about him he’d refused to address. He’d also tried calling Sierra to grovel, but she was off on her honeymoon and obviously in no mood to entertain him. He’d made a mental note to send the largest bouquet of her favorite flowers for when she returned.

  It was his own fault that he and Dale were now stuck in the studio with Sean and his watchful publicist when he should have been lost in sleep, daydreaming about the taste of Cherisse.

  “How’s that sound to you?” Dale asked.

  “Fine. Hey! What the hell?” Keiran jerked away from the fingers flicking his forehead. Dale sat back in his chair, arms folded. “What was that for, man?”

  “You been spacing.” Dale nodded at Sean and Sheila in the booth. “We don’t do fine. Fine ain’t gonna cut it, and you know that. That line needs some work.”

  Keiran rubbed his forehead. “Well, if you damn well knew that, why’d you ask?”

  “Because Sheila deserves our best. Regardless.”

  “He’s right,” Mara piped up. “Sean isn’t going to want to have his vocals associated with a mediocre track.”

  She’d been filming on her phone as they recorded, with the footage to be used as part of their social media promo. Keiran wasn’t comfortable with any of that—his studio was his sanctum—but he’d sucked up his protest because behind-the-scenes moments would help build their Instagram engagement too. Not that Mara was posting the full thing. It was another avenue to capture footage for the teaser. Keiran usually left their social media accounts up to Dale, who he trusted. Mara, not so much. She was an anomaly in their space, one under his father’s employ. Her loyalty was to King Kong Entertainment and his father. Not Keiran.

  Keiran’s jaw clenched. Dale was right on all counts. He chose to ignore Mara’s statement. She was in Sean’s corner, so chances of getting any sympathy there were zero.

  Keiran didn’t want to jeopardize Sheila’s rise to stardom, and they needed Sean for that, apparently. He needed to fix this, give it his al
l like he did every time he got down here. Apart from Sean and Mara invading his space, it was also a little hard to focus when his mind helpfully supplied flashes of how Cherisse sounded and looked when she came. Of her head thrown back, skin flushed. Hips, soft thighs, and sex-sleepy eyes were the real distraction, not that he could or would admit that.

  Keiran bit his lip, pushing the memories into a corner in his mind. He’d revisit those later. “Yeah, Dale, I get you. I’ll fix it.” All too aware of Mara, he lowered his voice. “I messed up big time. Eric’s also disappointed in me. Again. I’m surprised he hasn’t revoked my best man status.”

  “How’s that going? You and Cherisse getting along with this party planning?”

  If he could call steamy, spontaneous sex getting along, then they were doing just fine. So much for tucking those memories away. A discussion needed to happen at some point. He had no idea if he should broach it first. What would he even say? He hadn’t stuck around long enough to see the regret in her eyes, but he’d been waiting for a reply to his text. That they wouldn’t do this again.

  Instead, he got silence. It was only the day after. He imagined her working up to it, but he was itching to text her again. That way lay trouble. He had to reel himself in before he spilled his guts at her feet. It would be easy, too. One heavy-lidded look from Cherisse and he was putty in her hands. It was better for both of them that he kept those feelings to himself, for now at least.

  “Yeah, we’re good.” Eager to move on from any discussion of Cherisse, especially with Mara and Sean around, he refocused on their task. “Let’s run that again.”

  Sheila gave a thumbs up. She was easy to work with, pleasant, had talent oozing out of her pores. Her voice was phenomenal. She readjusted the headphones over her braids, ready to jump back in.

  Sean scowled his way. “Yeah, let’s hope it doesn’t sound like shit this time.”

  Dale patted Keiran’s leg before he could release a scathing comment. Keiran took several deep breaths. Lord, please grant me the patience to not strangle this man. He allowed Sheila’s vocals on the upbeat track to wash over him. The song, titled “Have Your Cake And Eat It Too,” was a cheeky rendition of a woman having fun with two guys who end up fighting over her, but in the end, the woman doesn’t choose either of them.