by Vi Keeland
Chapter Nineteen
Lucky
I told myself I was being silly for being nervous about coming to his room. It’s my job, I reasoned, and Flynn is a friend. We both just got caught up in the moment that day on the stage. I was emotional. It was a moment of weakness. That’s all.
The door clicks closed behind me. The room is…all bed. I turn around, and Flynn hasn’t moved. He looks at me, his gaze dipping to my breasts, then down over my bare legs, before his eyes return to meet mine.
He stares.
Really stares.
Like he wants to eat me.
Shit. We may be having another moment.
My heart thumps.
His eyes once more sweep over my body and devour me.
I watch his throat work as he swallows.
I’m trying to keep my cool, but I have some serious flips going on in my stomach.
Then he groans. The sound is a haunting mix of pain and frustration, but goddamn if it’s not sexy as all hell. Suddenly, I’m aware of how many nerve endings must be inside the human body. Because I feel every one of them abruptly zap to life. I seriously wouldn’t be surprised if I was lit up like a Christmas tree.
He paces back and forth a few times. “This isn’t a good idea.”
“Why?” The reason is obvious, but I ask anyway.
He stops pacing and looks at me. “You want me to say it?”
Swallowing hard, without saying a word, I hold his gaze and nod. My body trembles as he stalks in my direction. Invading my personal space, our bodies just shy of touching, he looks down at me, the height difference between us making me tilt my head back to maintain eye contact.
“I’ll tell you why. Because if we’re alone in this room for another minute, I won’t be responsible for my actions.” He pauses and I watch as his pupils dilate and his chest rises and falls. “Because I want to pin you against that wall behind you and hold your hands over your head while I suck on those nipples that I’ve been staring at every morning while I was forced to drink coffee instead of you. Because I want to keep you pressed up against that wall while my face is buried between your thighs and your legs are dangling down my back. Because I want to make you soaking wet so when I bury myself into you hard and deep, I won’t have to go easy. Because it won’t be easy. Because I won’t be able to take my time with you like you deserve the first time. Because I won’t be able to control myself when I’m buried so far inside of you that I’ll literally explode when you explode around me. Because I want to feel you tremble from the inside out while my mouth is crushed to yours until you can barely breathe.”
I’m shocked I’m still even standing. I’m breathless and dizzy and never in my life have felt as desired as I do in this moment. I hate to do it, but I have to break our gaze just to catch my breath and slow my spinning mind.
His warm fingers lift my chin to meet his eyes. “You should go,” he whispers in warning, his voice strained.
“But what if I want to stay?”
We stare at each other for a long time. His eyes challenging me, mine daring him. His gaze burns into mine. Fire. Passion. And maybe even a little anger pulses through his veins.
“I told you to go,” he growls. Narrowing the distance between us, he moves in so our bodies aren’t quite touching, but I can feel the heat emanating from his. I take one step back, bumping into the wall behind me. He takes a step again, arms caging me in on both sides of my head. His eyes blaze so hot, I think I might melt. The muscle in his jaw flexes and I know he’s hanging by a thread. “Is this what you want?” He searches my eyes as one hand moves to gather both my hands and he lifts them over my head. “Tell me. Is this what you want?”
I nod. “I—”
The words are lost as his mouth crushes down over mine. I completely forget everything else except this kiss.
This kiss.
It’s the most consuming thing I’ve ever felt in my life. I feel it everywhere. My mouth, my nipples, the wetness responding between my legs, from the top of my head to the tips of my toes. It’s as if my entire body has been asleep for the last few years and suddenly…this kiss…has awakened it.
One hand glides down the side of my body, caressing slowly as it comes to slide along the back of my thigh and lifts. I whimper when I feel the hard length of him through his jeans for the first time.
Instinctively, I reach for him, wanting to urge him closer, dig my fingers into his hair, but I forget he has my hands bound together. I attempt to pull away, but it only makes him tighten his grip.
Oh, lord. I’ve never been subdued before, but the feeling could only be described as decadent. My body hums and I kiss him harder, wild with need. His free hand wraps into my hair and he tugs, giving him better access to my neck. He sucks and bites his way from one ear to the opposite collar bone, then back up to the other ear. “You’re so beautiful,” he groans.
He makes me feel that way. Beautiful. Like it’s an honor for him to have me, instead of the other way around.
My nipples harden as his thumb brushes over my breast through the soft cotton of my shirt.
“These things,” he confesses, pinching one and then the other. “These things have been taunting me every goddamn morning.”
I gasp when he pinches again, much harder this time, shooting a jolt of fire directly from their stiffened peaks down to between my legs.
Desire races through me as he lowers his head, lifts my shirt, and his thumb slips down the cup of my bra so he can blow on my already pebbled nipples. He alternates between licking and blowing, teasing me into a frenzy. By the time he catches the swell of my nipple between his teeth, I’m thinking I might finish before we even start. A soft moan billows from my lips.
I need more. Just more. So I lift my other leg and wrap it around his waist, locking my ankles together. Arching my back from the wall, legs spread wide around him, I get the friction I desperately need. His jeans, hard with his straining bulge, rubs against my sensitive skin—the thin fabric of my shorts doing little to impede me from feeling every inch of him. Every. Many. Inches.
Flynn keeps me pinned against the wall, ravaging my mouth, inflicting sweet torture on my breasts, until I’m a panting mess. Then he lets go of my hands, my legs drop, and he takes a step back. For a second I think he’s going to put an end to this recklessness, but then he smiles. It’s a slow, devilish smile, with so much intensity in his eyes it almost sweeps my breath away.
“Flynn…”
“Take off your shorts.”
Mr. Nice Guy has a bit of a bossy edge to him. I like it. A lot. Turns out I’m finding out a lot about myself today, things I wasn’t aware could be so ridiculously hot.
Slowly, I hook my thumbs into the sides of my shorts and shimmy them down my legs. I’m generally not self-conscious about my body. I like my curves, and I’ve been blessed genetically to be able to eat whatever I want and remain thin, but if I had any body issues, they’d disappear with the way Flynn is looking at me.
He doesn’t leer. He appreciates. As if he’s looking at fine art that should be treasured. I’m not sure if it’s another one of his intangible talents or if he truly adores what he sees, but in the moment I could care less. Because I feel how he makes me feel. Beautiful.
After taking his time drinking me in, he drops to his knees. He’s making good on all the things he told me he wanted to do when I asked him why I should leave. Still keeping me pressed with my back against the wall, he looks up at me, locking eyes as he lifts one leg over his shoulder.
The cool air on my wet, sensitive skin, coupled with the way he’s watching me, makes me gasp. The sound makes his eyes blaze even darker.
“Watch me,” he says, and then his mouth is on me. Licking and sucking, his face buried between my legs as he devours every inch of me. His tongue lashes against my clit, twirling and flicking until I can barely form a coherent word.
“Oh god.” My fingers dive into his hair as I climb higher and higher, my body greedily ro
cking against him as he strokes and strokes with his tongue lapping hungrily until my orgasm rips through me. I shake almost violently as he continues to draw more and more from my body with an unrelenting vigor. Just when I think my body is over the edge, that I’ll begin the slide down on the other side of the orgasm rainbow, he pushes two fingers inside me. Gently but firmly, he twists while he pumps, literally stroking one orgasm to roll directly into another one.
Still trembling, it barely registers that he’s lifted me up until he’s setting me down on the bed. With dexterity that I don’t want to think about how it was earned, he unclasps my bra and sheds the rest of my clothes before starting on his own.
He guides my back down and follows. With a rough timbre and a wicked grin, “You’ve been inside me since the day we met. It’s time I return the favor. Only I’m going to be much more literal.”
I reach down to grab him, wrapping my fingers around his thick shaft, but he quickly peels my fingers back. I look at him questioningly.
“I won’t last. I’m already teetering on the edge just from the taste of you on my tongue. When I come, I want it to be inside you.” Those damn dimples dip into cavernous wonderlands. “Plus, it’s been a while.”
Out of everything he’s said since I walked in the door, something about that last sentence does me in. “Well, then we shouldn’t wait any longer,” I whisper hoarsely.
He quickly rolls on a condom and is poised at my entrance. Our gazes meet and hold. With one hand around his neck, I pull him down for a kiss and, just as our lips connect, he slides inside me.
We kiss for a minute as he inches his way in and then, once he’s completely seated, once I’m completely filled, he pulls his head back and our eyes hold again.
He thrusts in deep, but slow as he studies me. It feels like he’s memorizing my body’s reactions to everything he does. Sliding his hand under my ass, he tilts my hips just slightly, but it allows him to penetrate even deeper. The feeling is heavenly. My eyes flutter closed, succumbing to the incredibly full feeling, as he whispers in my ear, “Beautiful.”
Finding our rhythm quickly, we move in perfect unison, as if we’ve been doing it for years, rather than it being our first time. It feels so…right. My body climbs yet again, a faster build, but no less powerful when it crests. I shudder and hold his gaze as I begin to come again and then he starts pumping harder. “You feel so. Damn. Good.”
He groans my name as he releases into me before my own orgasm has even fully ebbed. Afterward, we hold on to each other tight, slowly rocking back and forth as we catch our breaths.
But I catch my breath too soon. Because I only lose it again when the pounding knock comes on the door.
Chapter Twenty
Flynn
“What if it’s—” she asks, a look of panic on her face.
“I’ll deal with it.” I’m pulling on one leg of my pants when the knocking comes again. This time louder, more insistent.
Lucky searches the bed frantically for her clothes. “But if he’s…I can’t find my clothes. I should hide.”
“You’re not hiding.”
“What? Why?”
“Because we’re not sixteen and I said I’ll deal with it.”
She looks at me wide-eyed, like I’ve lost my mind. “Look.” Pulling my jeans over my hips, I don’t bother buttoning the top button before lifting my knee onto the bed and leaning over. “Stay naked. I don’t give a shit who’s at the door, I’m getting rid of them.” I pull the sheet she has gripped to her chest back and peek down between the sheet and her skin. “Fast. I’m getting rid of them fast.” I wink.
The knock is more of a banging as I swing the door open to catch whoever is on the other side off-guard. It works. The two girls jump back so fast, they nearly fall over.
“Shit. You ladies okay?” I reach out and grab the one on the right’s elbow, just as she’s about to fall. As soon as she’s recovered, she throws her arms around my neck, swamping me in a big hug.
“Oh my god! It’s really you!”
I pull my head back and attempt to disentangle myself from her grip. “Yep. I’m me. And who might you be?”
“Oh my god!” she squeals to her friend in a glass-shattering pitch…right into my ear. “He wants to know my name.”
I can smell the alcohol on her breath, and it looks like these two may still be dressed from last night. “It’s very nice to meet you, ladies, but I’m sort of in the middle of something important. Will I see you at a show soon, I hope?”
“Yes! We’re going to follow the bus to the next show. We went last night. We went to see Easy Ryder but…oh my god…you were incredible.”
“Thank you.” I smile. “Well, I’m hard at work. So I’ll see you ladies in a few nights then, yeah?” I turn around to the door I’ve been holding open just a crack. “What’re your names, sweethearts?”
I hear Lindsay and Jenna yelling and jumping around even once the door is closed. I walk back into the bedroom, shaking my head.
“Hard at work, huh?” Lucky arches an eyebrow.
“Just telling the truth.” I unzip my pants. Her eyes follow the sound. The glazed look in her eyes has me hardening again as I slip off my jeans.
She swallows. “Sounds like Lindsay and Jenna were excited to meet you.”
“Yeah.” I hold her eyes while I stroke myself up and down leisurely. “Looks like I’m excited too.” I pull away the sheet and climb on top of her, hovering.
Her voice is soft, but etched with concern that matches her eyes when she looks up at me, our noses an inch apart. “What are we going to do?”
“Right now? I’m going to make you forget there’s anyone else. The rest we’ll figure out later.”
We’ve both been quiet for a while. Her head is lying in the crook of my arm while one finger traces a path over the tattoos woven above one bicep. I know there’s something she wants to talk about, but I give her time to let her thoughts form the right words.
“I’m not a cheater,” she whispers.
I kiss the top of her head, and the arm I have wrapped around her squeezes reassurance. “I didn’t think you were.”
“But I am now. I mean. This is the first time I’ve ever cheated on anyone.”
“Me too.”
“Really?”
“You sound surprised.” Her comment stings a bit, and my voice bites right back.
“I didn’t mean it that way. I mean…you just…you’re sort of a flirt and, you know, the whole rockstar thing.”
“And that makes me a cheater?”
“No. I really didn’t mean it that way. Can we please start over?”
“How about we’ve established we’re both not usually cheaters and move on from there?”
“Okay.” She’s quiet for a long time before she speaks again. “I’ve been with Dylan for almost a year.”
It’s not like that’s news to me, but the reminder slaps me in the face. I don’t respond. Because what do you say to that?
“I thought I was in love with him.”
Apparently, the slap was just a warm-up for the punch in the gut. “Thought?”
She nods. “But I’m confused now. I was lying in bed the other night trying to figure out if I fell out of love or never was in love, or if I do love him but just not the way I should.”
I shift, lifting her from my chest and easing her back to the bed so I can see her. I hate this conversation, but I need to see her eyes. “Did you figure out the answer?”
She shakes her head.
“Do you feel like today was a mistake?”
“That’s the thing. Today felt…right. It didn’t feel like a mistake at all.”
“Every minute since the day I met you has felt that way.” I’m pretty sure I sound like a pussy, but fuck, I don’t even care.
She looks up into my eyes. “What are we going to do?”
“The question isn’t what are we going to do. It’s what are you going to do. Because I’m right here waiting fo
r you to figure it out.”
She swallows. “Can you give me a few days?”
I nod. Hating that she needs it, but the reality is, it feels like I’ve been waiting a lifetime for her. A few days more shouldn’t kill me. Or will it?
Chapter Twenty-One
Lucky
It’s been two days since I slept with Flynn. Two days since my head started spinning and I haven’t been able to think straight. I look over at Dylan lying next to me as the bus hums peacefully along the open road in the middle of nowhere. A man I’ve wanted since I was fifteen. I’m living every girl’s fantasy. Only, I’m not a girl anymore. I’m a woman. Yet I’m still unsure if I know the difference between lust and love, infatuation and dedication.
I do have feelings for Dylan, I’m sure of that, and I thought those feelings were love. But if I loved him, would I have done what I’ve done? He’s good to me. A relationship with a musician on the road isn’t easy. Yet he’s worked at it, finding time for me and even arranging it so we can be together on this tour. And look how I’ve shown him appreciation.
The last two nights I’ve pretended to be asleep before he came into the bedroom. I feel guilty even lying here. The funny thing is, my guilt is less toward Dylan and more toward Flynn. I’ve been with Dylan for almost a year, yet I feel guilty for sleeping next to him. Deep down, I know why that is—because guilt is an offense of the heart, and by lying here, I’m committing a crime against a man who has captured a piece of mine. But can two men have a piece of my heart at the same time?
I was pretty good at geometry, but the logistics of this triangle makes my head spin. Even if I end things with Dylan, where would that leave Flynn with the tour? He still has another few weeks of filling in for Linc, and then his band is joining the second half of the Easy Ryder tour. It’s not like I could break things off with Dylan and Flynn and I would walk off on our merry way.