Detour Complete Series

by Kacey Shea

  My chin dips and I lean close, so close that her breath fans against my cheek. My lips find the shell of her ear. “I won’t . . .” As much as I know I could coax her into this, I have to hear her consent. I don’t know where she stands with Coy. Right now, I can’t even find it in me to care. With Jess I toss all my rules out the window. When it comes to her I’ll do anything, as long as it’s what she wants. “We can stop, if you want.”

  She tilts her head and my cheek brushes hers. “I don’t want that.” Her lips graze my earlobe and skirt along my jawline. “I want you.” Her lips finally meet mine. Moving tenderly at first, then kissing with purpose as I open my mouth. Our lips move together in a dance more fluid than the Jameson. She’s sweeter than in my dreams. Fuck. She is my dream come to life.

  My hands find their way onto her body. I’ve been waiting for this moment for so long, it’s as if I can’t decide where to go first. Hips, waist, back, arms, breasts, hair—my fingers brush against the softness of her skin.

  She scoots down the lounge chair and I support her back until she’s fully reclined against the cushion. My body settles between her thighs and I’m careful not to crush her with my weight. Her hands run up and down my chest, stroking both my skin and ego as she holds me close.

  My lips leave her mouth to explore what else she likes. Kissing along her cheek, I brush my tongue along her earlobe. She exhales a soft moan, digs her fingers into my scalp and pulls my lips back to hers. Fuck. I could kiss her forever. No shit. If this is as far as things go, I’ll be a happy man. Slowing my movements, I try to bring our kiss back to something more PG rated. I don’t want her to assume I’m only into her if it includes sex.

  “More.” Her hands run down my back and dip inside the waistband of my shorts. “I want you, Sean.”

  Screw being happy. She’s about to blow my mind and rock my world. Who am I to not give Jess what she wants?

  It’s not easy leaving her lips, but my destination has me rock hard and on a mission—that being to make her come first, and several times more before the night is over. I hitch up her shirt, and she shivers in response. “This okay?”

  She nods, watching me as I raise it high enough that my lips move across her belly, and ultimately find their way between her breasts. Every touch is purposeful and unhurried. It’s not only about the buildup, but also my desire to make this last as long as possible. There’s an unexplainable need to burn this moment into my memory, and the fact she doesn’t rush me makes me wonder whether she feels the same.

  “This needs to come off.” I tug at the shirt and bra I have bunched up over her ample breasts and take one nipple into my mouth to suck, then flick with my thumb until it’s a hard point before moving to the next.

  “I don’t know,” she whispers before letting loose a moan. “This seems to be working just fine.”

  I stop the assault on her breasts, a grin pulling at my lips. “I am a resourceful man.”

  “Yeah?” She quirks her brow. “Prove it.”

  “Fuck.” The word rushes from my mouth and causes her to giggle. I love this side to her. Carefree. Full of delight. Sure, it’s probably aided by the liquor, but still, it’s a side I’ve never seen.

  Before she can laugh again I slide down her body, my face between her legs, and hook my fingers into her shorts and panties to tug them down her legs. As each inch of skin is exposed, I wish we were doing this inside where I’d have more than the stars above to illuminate her perfect body.

  “You’re beautiful.” I glance up and hold her stare as I drop a kiss to her center. Her most intimate parts are already slick with arousal. She pants and I can feel another shiver work over her body as her skin prickles with gooseflesh.

  She groans as I lick and suck her clit, but when she squeezes her eyes shut and pushes her thighs together, I stop until I gain her attention.

  “Sean?”

  “Watch me, okay? I want you to watch.”

  “Fuck . . .” This time she drags out the word, and from those lips that never curse—at least not until tonight. The sound invokes a visceral reaction, and it’s all I can do to not shuck my pants and push inside her. But I don’t. No, much the way she draws the word out, I want to do the same with her pleasure until she’s riding the high.

  This time when I go down on Jess, I part her legs and hold her open with one arm. With my free hand I run a finger between her slick folds, working inside before I add another. I match the strokes of my hand to the movements of my tongue. Her moans of need fill my ears and demand more.

  With each passing second her body becomes more rigid and her pants echo in the night. She reaches for me, holding my head at her center as if I would even attempt to pull away. She chants my name, a whisper on her lips, and fuck if that’s not enough for the beast inside to roar with delight.

  I own her pleasure. It becomes my obsession, if only for this moment in time. My own release isn’t even at the forefront of my mind. Everything I do—every kiss, stroke, and lick is for her orgasm. Her body arches, but I hold her hips down and coax her even more until she’s flying, falling apart at my mouth.

  I’ve imagined this very experience so many times, but nothing compares to the real life version of watching Jess come. Her release is a taste I’ll never have enough of. As with anything she does, I’m utterly and pathetically addicted.

  “Sean?” she says, and it’s a question. As if she doesn’t understand how much power she holds. How much I’ve always wanted to share this with her.

  I crawl over her body, her skin warm against mine, and kiss her lips. I kiss her as if she’s mine always. I kiss her with all the hopes and fears I have for when this night ends. I kiss her as if she’s the most precious woman to ever share my world, because she is.

  A breeze comes and she shivers again, despite how my body covers most of hers. I pull away to watch her reaction at my next words. “Was that okay?” It’s a serious question. I want to make sure it was good for her in every way.

  She snaps her eyelids shut and I swear if we had more light I’d find a blush on her cheeks. “I think you know it was more than okay.” She opens her eyes and this time her lips twist into a sly smile as her hand reaches between our bodies to palm my erection.

  “If you want to stop . . .” I have to exhale slowly to gain control of my thoughts. Her hand on my cock, even over the material of my shorts, is enough to make me want to come. “Or kiss. I’m good with that. I’m good with anything you want to share with me.” The words tumble out in a rush and she stills her hand.

  “Oh, okay.” Even though she’s still beneath me, she tries to slide away, jerking her shirt and bra back over her breasts. “If you don’t want to . . .” She turns her chin so I can’t meet her gaze.

  “Hey, I want you. Fucking hell, do I want you.” I groan and drop my forehead so it touches hers. “Don’t pull away. I just want to make sure you want more, too. If you’re not ready, I can wait. I will wait.”

  “I don’t want to wait.” Her tone is determined. Resolute. She brushes her hand along my jaw until her fingers slide into my hair. A simple gesture but one full of such tenderness and sincerity I’ll surely do whatever this woman wants for all of time.

  “Then let’s go inside.” My lips can’t help but find hers again. “I want you in my bed. I want to see you, Jess. All of you, when you come.” We also need protection and I don’t want to leave her naked and outside while I run upstairs to get a condom.

  “A little sure of yourself, aren’t you?” Her lips part in a smile full of challenge.

  A chuckle escapes my mouth and I push off the lounge chair so I can stand. “How’s that?” I ask and retrieve her shorts and panties.

  “I came once. That’s enough. Now it’s your turn.” She grins but I don’t like the sound of her words. As if she truly believes this is how making love works.

  “Once for you is not nearly enough.” I reach out my hand until hers is in it, and tug her to her feet. In my arms, I kiss her again. �
��You can keep track if you’d like, but I won’t.” My words leave her without a response so I take that as a sign she understands. My pleasure isn’t only about getting off. It’s about watching her unfold at my touch. It’s about the vulnerability we share together and her being comfortable enough to let go and trust that I’ve got her.

  58

  Jess

  Musicians are gifted; this is something I already know to be true. But bass players have the most magnificent hands, and Sean’s reach a whole ’nother level. I swear, he must have an extra one with how well he plays my body.

  My hand’s in his as he leads me through the house and up the stairs. My gut churns with indecision as my gaze falls on Coy’s door. Am I doing the right thing sleeping with Sean? The room I’ve shared with Coy lies open, along with the hurt of our broken relationship. No, I won’t pass up this chance to be with Sean. I want this. I’ve always wanted this. Maybe it’s selfish, but I won’t let Coy keep this from me too. I squeeze my eyes shut the last few steps until I’m safely inside Sean’s room.

  “This still okay?” His voice makes me realize I haven’t opened my eyes.

  “It’s perfect.” My gaze travels across his large room to his bed with messed sheets, and it’s there my heart lurches in my chest. A gasp escapes my lips. “Oh!”

  “You like it? I bought it in San Diego, at the charity gala.”

  “I love it.” My pulse thrums erratically at the sight. Of course I remember the photograph. It’s as stunning as it was then, but how could he know how much I admired it?

  “And I didn’t buy it because she’s naked.” The words roll out of his mouth and he rakes his hands through his hair. “I mean, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

  “Why would I think that?” A chuckle leaves my mouth, but my gaze still hasn’t moved from the framed photo. The woman, there’s something in her posture. In her powerlessness that speaks to me. That it’s right above his bed is kind of perfect.

  “The guys . . . It was stupid. Of course you don’t think that.” He laughs and waves his hand, almost as if he’s nervous. Something I’m not used to seeing in Sean.

  “Why?”

  He tilts his chin. “Why, what?”

  I hold his stare. “Why did you buy it?”

  He shrugs and exhales in a rush before his lips turn up at the edges. “Because she reminded me of you.”

  Maybe it was the answer I was looking for, maybe not. Maybe he’s only telling me what I want to hear. Either way, it propels me to be bolder than I have been. I close the steps between us and run my hands up his chest until they loop around his neck. “Take me to bed.”

  His arms settle around my body until there’s no space between us. “Yes, ma’am.” His grin only lasts a moment before his lips cover mine. As slow as he went before, this time is different. Not rushed, but more urgent, as if we both can’t wait for what’s next.

  I push my shorts and panties off first, then he does the same. We break apart only long enough for me to pull my shirt over my head and his lips are back on mine, as if he can’t stop himself. He shuffles us toward the bed and I unhook the clasp of my bra. The backs of my thighs hit his mattress and I don’t waste any time climbing onto it so he can follow.

  He lays me down so my back hits the mattress with a gentleness that steals what’s left of my heart. It’s a tenderness I’ve never known and my eyes fill with tears even though I’m not sad at all.

  “Jess.” My name rushes from his mouth like a hiss, and his features twist with anguish. “Oh, no. Jess, no.”

  It takes a second for my mind to catch up. The bruises.

  His brows narrow and he dips his chin. The longer strands of his hair fall forward and brush against my jaw. He presses kisses from one side of my neck to the other, so softly I can barely feel his lips.

  God, I must look a mess. With my swollen cheek, the hateful marks that decorate my throat, and tears forming in my eyes. “I’m sorry.”

  “No.” He stops and glares. “Don’t you dare apologize for this . . . apologize for him. Just no.”

  “But I’m a mess.” I choke out the words and turn my chin away so he can’t see the hurt side of my face.

  But he doesn’t let me escape so easily. He lifts my chin with his fingers until I meet his stare. “You. Are. Beautiful. You don’t see how much, so I’ll show you, okay?” His brow loses all of its hardness. “Let me show you?”

  I nod, unable to speak without letting a tear or two escape.

  His lips and fingers trace my body, starting at my throat and working their way down my body. I swear he covers every inch of my skin with kisses. They’re not possessive either; if anything, it’s almost as if he’s attempting to heal all the broken, and that only feels more sacred. He kisses down one knee to my calf and stops at the inside of my ankle. In this position I’m completely exposed to him, my leg in his hand as he sits back on his heels. He’s hard and long but doesn’t stroke himself, not even once, as if this really is about me and not him.

  He grabs my other leg, doing the same but opposite, and lifts his stare to me as he kisses the inside of my thigh. “What do you want, Jess? Tell me.”

  “I want you inside me.” There’s no other answer. He’s worshiping my body, but I ache to connect even more.

  His lips pull into a wicked grin I’ve only seen a handful of times, making him appear so much younger. He crawls over my body to one of the nightstands and reaches in a drawer for a foil wrapper.

  I take it from him, and by the rise of his brows I think the action surprises him. Sheathing him in the latex, I’m rewarded with a groan that could be classified as caveman. My lips pull up with a smile at the satisfaction of having that kind of control.

  He lies down at my side and claims my lips again. “I want you so much, Jess.”

  “Then have me.”

  He turns toward me, runs his hand up the back of my thigh and hikes my leg over his hip. We’re lined up just right, but I snake a hand between us to help guide him inside. In and out, achingly slow, he does all the work with his hips and I hold on. Our bodies press together more and more with each thrust.

  Powerful. Controlled.

  Sweet. Sensuous.

  This feels a lot like making love. Or what I imagine it to be.

  “You’re so fucking beautiful.” His words catch me off guard. I don’t know how he can say that. Or why it feels as though he means it.

  He rolls me to my back, capturing my hands in his. He presses them to the mattress and kisses my lips, his hips thrusting harder and faster. “I want you to come.” He releases one of my hands and runs his palm over my breasts, down my belly, and to my center. With his thumb he finds my clit. Yes. God, yes. Those brilliant musician’s hands.

  Sean is patient, as always. And this time my orgasm builds, one ragged breath at a time until it bursts. My body spasms with the rush and I swear I feel it all the way to my toes, curling them as I say his name.

  “I’ve got you.” He kisses my lips, slowing his thumb to lazy circles around my clit as I come down. He hasn’t slowed his pace, though. Sweat gathers on his back from where I dig my fingers into his skin. I want him to come also. I need him to.

  “Come inside me,” I murmur on a breath, and that does the trick.

  His features twist with his pleasure and his back muscles tighten to the point I can feel the ridges. “Fuck, Jess.” He remains sheathed inside me, using one hand to hold up the weight of his body while his other brushes a few strands of hair from my face. “That was . . . Fuck, Jess, that was amazing. Thank you.”

  My mouth opens but nothing comes out. His stare holds me immobile and I can’t look away. I want to return the sentiment but can’t seem to push the words from my mouth.

  Sean acts as if he doesn’t notice, or maybe he doesn’t, and rolls us back to our sides. “Be right back.” He climbs from the bed and takes a few minutes in the bathroom.

  In the time he’s gone reality threatens to crash down upon the nice littl
e bubble we’ve created. My body’s fully sated, but my mind knows there’s more to this than a night of harmless fun. I replay those last minutes with Coy, and the words he used, looking for the confirmation I need to justify sleeping with Sean, but come up empty. We fought. Coy alluded to being done, but we didn’t officially break up. So, is this cheating? Do I even care? The truth is, I wanted to sleep with Sean. If I’m honest, I’ve wanted this for a while. Coy hurt me. He always hurts me. But that doesn’t make this right.

  “Hey.” Sean struts back in the room and tugs on a pair of boxers before reclaiming his spot next to me on the bed. He brushes his hand down my bare arm, leaving goosebumps in its wake before threading our fingers together. He brings my hand to his chest. “What are you thinking about?” His question demands a truthfulness that scares me. No matter what happens next, I don’t want to hurt Sean.

  “I don’t want to be alone.” Not tonight. Not ever, but I don’t say that. Can’t.

  “You won’t be. Not tonight.” Sean’s lips trace along my wrist, our hands still intertwined. “Stay here with me.”

  “But what about . . . ?” Coy. My eyes slam shut. I can’t speak his name.

  “He doesn’t deserve you.”

  I nod but I don’t really believe it. Coy comes with a past of his own, and he was good to me far longer than anyone else ever was. Than anyone ever will. Even with Sean, I can’t expect this to last for more than one night. I have his full attention now, but when he’s on tour and surrounded by thousands of adoring fans, will he still feel the same? It’s a chance I can’t risk.

  There are all these things I wish I were brave enough to say aloud, but fear traps them inside my head. After tonight I’ll have to figure this out, though. If Coy isn’t already done with me, he will be now. Sleeping with Sean is unforgivable, and yet it’s the only time I can remember that I’ve done something for myself. Not because I had to or because it made someone else feel better, but for me. Even I can’t regret that. And the way he touched me, even the way he holds me now is with a reverence I don’t deserve. As if I’m a precious gift. As if I’m not ruined.