No Treble Allowed: A Straight Wicked Novel

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No Treble Allowed: A Straight Wicked Novel Page 15

by Kristine Allen


  Deciding that as my husband he had a right to know, I stepped out of his embrace to meet his eyes. For a minute I became distracted in their depths and the way they were shadowed by his thick lashes. “Maybe we should sit down. You hungry?”

  “Actually yeah, I could eat. Let’s go get a table.” Since we were close to the Palazzo Hotel, we darted in to try to get a table at Carnevino. Whether it was his celebrity status or we just got lucky, we were seated and sipping our wine when he brought it up again.

  “Okay. So tell me about the list.” The great thing about Logan was he always seemed interested in everything I had to say, as if my words were the most important things he’d heard that day.

  Sucking in a deep breath, I started. “So when I was sixteen, I started falling asleep in school. It wasn’t because I stayed up all night either, I was just tired. Like all the time. Then my joints began to ache. My parents took me to several doctors and they tried to say it was because of a tick bite. Whether that was true or not, I’ll probably never know.” Fiddling with my napkin, I glanced up to see he was intently listening.

  “Then I started having horrible mood swings. I was angry and hateful, picked fights with my little brother and my family. Even my friends. My head ached constantly. Tylenol didn’t touch it. Nothing. Then the fevers started. Never anything that was super alarming, but always around the hundred degree mark and usually around the same time each night. My parents fought because my mom insisted there was something wrong and my dad said it was normal kid stuff and maybe a tick bite like the doctor said. That I’d get over it.” I picked up my glass of wine to rinse the cotton out of my mouth that had suddenly developed.

  Patiently waiting, he didn’t rush me or act bored.

  “By the time I was diagnosed with Acute Lymphoblastic Leukemia, my parents were already fighting. That was the icing on the cake, though. My mom was angry because my dad had minimized everything, my dad felt guilty because he hadn’t been proactive like my mom had tried to be. To make a long story short, I spent a lot of time in and out of the hospital. Lots of chemo, which in itself makes you sometimes want to give up. Transfusions, platelets and blood, became my norm. Then there were the times were I was neutropenic—meaning a certain type of white cells were low. When that happened I couldn’t go to school because being around other kids and possible infectious things was too dangerous. Setbacks were common due to a variety of reasons, and with it all, I fell behind in school. I had to quit my job at the coffee shop because I was missing too many shifts, and of course it was no different than school when it came to being around other people and environments that weren’t damn near sanitized.”

  Drinking more of my wine, I paused.

  “So that’s where you went. I always wondered,” he murmured. My gaze flicked to him in shock.

  “You wondered where I’d gone?” Despite the sobering topic, the thought that he’d even noticed I was gone back then warmed my heart.

  “Of course I did. In my mind I had taken you under my wing after that chick was such a bitch to you on your first day.” He frowned, and I giggled.

  “Rachel. God, she was the bane of my existence there. She’d never even met me before that so I have no idea what I did to set her against me, but she hated me.”

  The waiter arrived with our meals, and conversation stalled as we enjoyed the succulent steaks and savory sides. It was hands down the best meal I’d ever had in my life, and I worked at a five-star restaurant in Boston.

  Eating until I thought I would burst, I finally set my silverware down and wiped my mouth with the linen napkin. “Lordy, I’m stuffed, but that was so dang good, I couldn’t stop eating!”

  He chuckled, then appeared thoughtful.

  “So. Umm. Are you okay now?” For the first time in the conversation, his calm demeanor wavered.

  “Oh! Yeah! I mean, they say you’re never ‘cured,’ but I’ve been in remission since I was nineteen. But because of all that, the list came about, as did my career path. When you’re confined to bed and hospital rooms a lot, you have a lot of time on your hands that you’d rather not have. So after I’d finish my schoolwork, I read. It was my only way of escaping the hell that my life had turned into. When that quit working because I was so sick I just wanted to sleep, I got depressed. Trying to stay positive in the midst of my friends abandoning me because it was too hard to see me like that and my parents and their constant bickering, I started a list. It was all the things I was going to do and see if I survived.” I heaved a big sigh.

  “First thing on there was to make it through high school, then college, then find work as an editor and writer, then finally travel. There are so many places I want to see.” As I started to think about all the places on my list, I slipped into daydreams of beaches, mountains, and plains. My dreams of seeing the world were only dreams, but I knew I’d find a way to make them happen.

  The warmth of his hand cocooning mine drew me out of where my mind had wandered. “We’ll do them together. If you’ll let me be a part of your list, I’d love to live it with you. If you want to go on your own, I’ll make it happen. There is nothing in my life more important than seeing you happy. Nothing.” The sincerity in his eyes made me so emotional that I was afraid I’d start crying. Then an awful thought crossed my mind.

  “Logan, you don’t think I married you so I could use you for that, do you?” The thought that he might actually believe that was painful. My worried gaze sought his feelings in his expressive eyes. All I saw was surprise.

  “What? Hell no. I know you’re not that kind of person. Don’t ever worry I’d think that about you.” He snorted. “You know, if you were to tour with us, you’d see a lot of those places. Then if there were any you wanted to spend more time at, we could go back during our breaks.”

  “That actually sounds really exciting. How would that work though? Wouldn’t it be awfully crowded on a tour bus if I was along every time?”

  “Babe, we have twelve bunks, and if no family is along, there’s only five of us on the bus, not including the driver. There would be room for you. It’s a big fucking bus.” The tip of his lips sent my heart skittering.

  My concern was the time he’d need to be in Seattle to practice and record. I knew that’s where they were all based out of and it was where he called home. The thought of being back there nearly made me lose the amazing dinner I’d inhaled.

  Then again, there would have to come a time in my life that I’d face all the awful shit. No, maybe I’d never see my parents again because I didn’t want to be around their level of disfunction, but it didn’t mean I had to avoid Seattle for the rest of my life.

  Except telling myself that didn’t magically make it so.

  “Well, I guess we’ll see what happens as far as that goes.” Chewing on my lip in nervous indecision, I debated how to broach my question.

  “What’s on your mind?” He finished the last of his wine and signaled for the waiter for a refill.

  “Um, have you told your family we got married yet?” Unless he’d done it when I was in the shower, I hadn’t heard him mention us getting married yet.

  “I want to surprise them when we get there. And I don’t want to hear them bitching about not being able to be here.” He shrugged as he looked chagrined. I wasn’t sure how I felt about that.

  “Also, we haven’t discussed where we’re going to live exactly.” My face scrunched up. “I mean, I know I’ll be leaving Boston, but are you planning on staying in Seattle?”

  Pausing, he appeared to consider his response. “Well….” He drew out the word. “Because of the band and my family, it would be ideal, but we could be in a suburb. We don’t need to be actually in Seattle like I am now.”

  An involuntary shudder slithered through me. “Okay.” I was worried that he would eventually want to meet my parents, and I didn’t want him to see what they’d become. According to my brother, they’d only gotten worse since I left.

  “Stella. Did something happen to you
there that you don’t want to go back? Something you haven’t told me?”

  “Um, no, not exactly. Obviously, I have bad memories there, but it’s probably just the fact that I don’t want to see my parents. They became, uh, well, not very good people.” I think he sensed my lack of desire to discuss the details because he drained his glass again, and after making sure I didn’t want anything else, requested our check.

  Hand in hand, we enjoyed the neon lights and the constant activity as we strolled the strip. Every so often he leaned down and kissed me.

  “Are you ready to call it a night or was there something else you wanted to do tonight?” Threading his fingers through mine, he stopped me so we were facing in the middle of the sidewalk. People walked around us, and it was like an ocean flowing around us and down the road.

  With a smirk and what I hoped was a sexy, teasing look, I stood on my tiptoes and pressed my lips to his. “Take me to bed.”

  With a groaning sigh, he spoke against my mouth. “Fuck, I thought you’d never ask.”

  “I want all of you though.” I steadily met his gaze. “You’re my husband and I want sex. Real sex.”

  The expression on his face was a mixture of fear and determination.

  “Okay.” Passionately, he kissed me.

  Giggling like high school kids, we rushed to the hotel, and then groped each other in the elevator until someone got on with us. Before the doors opened, we had separated and tried to act normal.

  Fingers still laced, he pulled me closer until our sides touched. We exchanged a secret, lusty glance and impatiently waited for the elevator to reach our floor.

  Unfortunately, the other person didn’t get off before us, but once we hit our floor we rushed down the hall and let ourselves into the room. Before we made it two steps inside, he had me against the wall and his lips crashed to mine.

  Hands wandering and groping, we plucked each other’s clothes off until the entryway was nothing but a pile of laundry. Grabbing my ass, he jerked me hard against his thick length.

  We each moaned into the other’s mouth before his tongue swept through my mine, enticing it to tangle. My fingers gripped his arms as I tried to keep myself grounded.

  “You do things to me that I’ve never experienced.” His lips trailed along my neck before he bit my shoulder, sending chills through me. “I want to give you the world. I want to be everything for you.” Teasing down my collar bone with the tip of his tongue, he then pressed his lips to the center of my neck.

  “I can’t even tell you what you do to me, because you have me unable to think clearly right now.” Breathless, I gasped my response as he continued to torment my nerve-endings. “But what I can tell you is that you already are everything for me.”

  He sank his teeth into my flesh, making me weak in the knees. Of course, that wasn’t a problem for him, because he simply scooped me up and carried me to the big bed.

  He didn’t bother with pulling the covers back, laying me sideways across the top. Anticipation curled inside me as he knelt at the edge and threw my legs over his shoulders.

  Teasing and slow, he pressed kisses, bites, and licks to my inner thighs. By the time he reached the apex of my thighs I was squirming and impatient. When I thought he was going to end the torment, he breathed warm area across my sensitive, pulsing flesh.

  “Logan.” Needy, I whimpered.

  “What does my beautiful wife want?” His words blew air over me—again, not helping.

  Desperate, I curled up and grabbed his mussed hair, pulling on him. “Do it. Touch me. God, please taste me,” I ground out through clenched teeth.

  His little chuckle incensed me, and I growled. Except it didn’t last long because he had mercy on me finally and ran the flat of his tongue from bottom to top through my folds. Then he plunged in, and swirled, licked, sucked until I was putty in his hands.

  The room was filled with my moans, groans, and whimpers. When I arched my back and tried to push myself into his face, he pressed my pelvis to the bed and held me there. Finding myself torn between being on sensual overload and never wanting him to stop, I panted.

  He didn’t stop though. Not until I was shamelessly coming all over his tongue. Even after that, he continued to draw out my pleasure and the throbbing piece of heaven he’d cultivated.

  Once he was satisfied in his work, he maneuvered my body further up on the bed. Not happy until he could kneel between my legs, he laid me out how and where he wanted me.

  “Condom?” he rasped.

  “No.” I wanted to feel him.

  With heavy lids, I watched as he fisted his thick cock in his hand and lined it up with my extremely wet opening. Arching his hips forward, he drove into me little by little.

  Pausing, he met my gaze. “I can do this.”

  Believing in him, I gave him encouraging smile before telling him, “I love you.”

  He slid in until our hips met.

  Surprisingly, I’d found that the pain from the first time wasn’t there.

  He hesitated as his chest heaved.

  A tremor ran through his body as his eyes closed tightly. After he’d gained control, he opened them and began to move slowly.

  I knew it was because he didn’t want to lose control like he had before. The problem with that was, now that I knew it wasn’t going to hurt, I wanted more.

  No, I didn’t want him to forget it was me and ignore my needs, but a little of the wildness might not be so bad. I was pretty sure I could handle rough, as long as he didn’t choke the fuck out of me. That was terrifying.

  Surely there had to be a happy medium between the two.

  But how did I ask him? How could I broach the subject without him thinking I was a wishy-washy, crazy-ass female?

  “Sweet fucking Jesus. You feel so fucking amazing. I swear to Christ you feel better than the first time. What the hell did I do to deserve you?” He cradled my body to his as he slowly and steadily slid in and out of me, his breath warm across my neck.

  Fingers clutched to his back, I raised my hips to meet his. It increased the friction of my clit against his pelvis, and I was on the verge of coming.

  My breathing increased and the blood rushed in my veins like molten lava. Flushed with heat, I arched my back, and the tense anticipation began to increase as I grew closer to falling apart. Though I tried to push against him to create more pressure, I knew he was holding back.

  His every movement was methodically calculated. It was almost as if he wasn’t really there. As if, in order to maintain the rigid control he’d been showing, he had to separate himself and go slow.

  I knew he loved me and I knew now that he’d never intentionally hurt me. The feral side of him was trapped, smothered as he moved over me. But I wanted part of it back.

  As I pictured him flipping me over and ramming into me from behind, the mental stimulation and the relentless slide of his cock did me in. “Oh God, yesss.” The euphoric ramblings poured out of me as I splintered and crumbled.

  As I filtered down from the blissful high, he was still rock hard inside me. And I wanted more. Needed to feel more.

  Coming to the conclusion that the only way that was going to happen was if I asked for it, I steeled my resolve. Still enjoying the post-climactic haze, I tilted my head to the side to allow him better access as he nuzzled me.

  When he resumed his movement within me, I gripped his back and an ass-cheek and held him close. Stilling, he reared his head back with worry in his gaze. “Are you okay? Did I do something to hurt you?”

  “No.” Courage wavering, I swallowed hard. “No. You didn’t do anything wrong, but I want, um, more.”

  Confusion replaced the worry. “More?” Then he gave me that lopsided grin. “There’s only so much of me.”

  My eyes rolled as I tried not to laugh at what should’ve been a hot and heavy moment. “Not like that, genius. I meant, uh, well, what if you were maybe just a little wild.” I nervously tugged my bottom lip with my teeth.

  Hi
s eyes went wide.

  “Blue on Black”—Five Finger Death Punch

  I could not believe my ears. Blinking to clear my head didn’t work, because she still stared up at me with her lip caught in her teeth. Shaking it didn’t make a difference either, so I took a deep breath as my cock jerked inside her heat.

  “Wait. What? Did you say you wanted to be a little more wild? What exactly does that mean for you?” My heart that had stuttered suddenly caught up and began to race.

  “I want you harder. Rougher. But without the choking part.”

  The images that raced through my head at her request had me trembling as I attempted to hold myself in check. “Rougher?” My voice cracked.

  Big blue eyes stared up at me as I slowly drowned in them. Then she nodded. Ragged breathing escaped me. “Fuck. Do you know what you’re asking?”

  “I think so,” she whispered and licked her lips.

  Telling myself I could handle that, I pushed deeper into her. I’d proven I had control of my body and my actions over the last several days with her. I’d worshipped her multiple times a day, and not once had I let myself succumb to the rabid beast inside.

  Though I knew eventually I’d have to get my shit together, because oral sex wasn’t going to cut it for the rest of our fucking lives. Now I was inside her and she was asking for more. I was terrified I wouldn’t be able to separate things and keep myself in check.

  “If I go too far, slap me or something. Okay?” My strained voice rasped out my instructions to her, and once again she nodded.

  Pressing my lips to hers, I tasted the faint remnant of wine. Her pussy clenched tight around me as she wrapped her legs tighter over my thighs. Groaning into her mouth, I broke away to watch her expression as my chest heaved.

  Withdrawing nearly completely, I hovered at her opening until she greedily lifted her hips. At the first sign she was ready, I thrust deep and hard into her.

  Those baby blues widened momentarily before her lips parted and she hissed, “Yesss.”

 

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