No Treble Allowed: A Straight Wicked Novel

by Kristine Allen

  If it was possible to die from sexual satisfaction overload, I think I’d have been sent to heaven that day. He wasn’t happy until I’d come in his mouth no less than three times.

  Feeling like a boneless, gelatinous mess, I was floating in a euphoric haze when he guided his thick length into my ridiculously wet core. It had been over a month, and even with how prepared I was, he still stretched me almost painfully for the first few thrusts until I finally acclimated. My nails dug into his flesh so hard I may have drawn blood.

  It didn’t stop him though. Not even close.

  With one of my legs flung over his crooked arm and the other hanging off the couch, he pounded into me. Relentless and persistent, he filled me over and over until I was screaming his name.

  Sweat-soaked, long bangs hung over his face, but he made no move to push them out of the way as he paused to relish in the pulsing of my pussy around his thick cock. “Jesus fucking Christ. So goddamn fucking good.” His rasped, rambling words accompanied my explosive orgasm.

  As my ecstasy waned and the throbbing grip on his length faded, he started to move again. It was his turn and I wanted to feel him fill me. Braver than I’d ever been with him, I stared him dead in the eye and demanded, “Fuck me.”

  “Stella.” He dragged my name out into way more syllables than it was intended to be.

  “Fuck me hard. Do you hear me?” I asked when he didn’t move.

  “Yes. But I don’t know if you are ready for that. It’s been a while. I’m already barely hanging on.”

  “Good. I want you to come in me.” My words were husky but sure.

  His head dropped, hair hanging, as a tremor moved through him. The look in his eyes when he raised his gaze was tormented.

  “Do it.” Raising my leg from where it still hung off the couch, I wrapped it around his and pulled him close. Tightening my pussy around his cock, I pushed him.

  With a groan, he began to move again. I saw the moment he gave up the tenuous control he’d held onto. Slamming into me until our hips crashed and grunted breaths were pushed out of me, he did as I asked and fucked me. Hard.

  Sweat slicked our skin and magnified the slapping with each plunge he made into my wet depths. It was crude, sloppy, and animalistic. It was as hot as fuck.

  It wasn’t long before he sped up, but each push became slightly erratic.

  “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuuuuuck!” With a final thrust he growled, groaned, and tensed. Every fiber of his lean muscle stood out as he strained. Eyes closed tight and head thrown back, he looked feral and beautiful.

  Where he was deeply joined with me, I throbbed, both from his continuous pulsing inside me and from the abuse his rough pounding had dealt my body. But it was perfect.

  It was so fucking good.

  And I was so fucking screwed. Literally and metaphorically. Because this precious, broken man owned me heart and soul.

  “Infra-Red”—Three Days Grace

  “I love you, Stella.” Kissing her as I snuggled into her warmth, I pulled the covers over us. I’d had to move us to the bed because the couch was too fucking tiny to stretch out on.

  She turned her head to look at me as she spoke. “I love you too. Now I want the nitty-gritty. I want the details. I need to know everything you’ve done.” Her eyes briefly closed, then opened, and I nearly drowned in her ocean eyes. “We’ve had unprotected sex and I can’t believe I let myself get so carried away I didn’t think about it. I need to know if I should be worried. What all have you done? IV drugs? Unprotected sex? What?”

  Fuck, she wasn’t pulling any punches, but I knew she deserved to know the answers to her questions. Breathing deeply before letting my breath out in a rush, I gently moved the curls from her face. “It would be easier to tell you what I haven’t done.” Shame flooded me.

  Her eyes closed and it hurt my chest.

  “No IV drug use. That was something I was terrified of—not that I wasn’t tempted, but I didn’t. I swear. Yeah, I had unprotected sex, but not with random chicks, only with the two girls I had relationships with. One was the one I got pregnant. We were young, and after the miscarriage she broke things off. Said it was for the best since she didn’t think we would’ve lasted anyway. I was devastated. The other was Mina.” Closing my eyes with both regret and because of the stupidity I’d exercised with Mina, I swallowed, then met Stella’s stare.

  “I’ve been tested each time I went into detox or rehab, and I haven’t had unprotected sex since. I’ll still get regularly tested just in case, if you want. We can also use condoms if you really want me to.” It would fucking suck to use condoms with my fucking wife, but if it made her feel better or more comfortable, I’d do what I needed to do.

  “Maybe we should. For a little bit. Until you get a couple more clear results? I don’t even know how that works. I’m sorry.” Her brow furrowed, and sorrow filled her baby-blues.

  With heavy sigh, I nodded. “Okay, babe. I’m good with that. We can go to the doctor together if you want. That way you can ask whatever questions you want.”

  “Okay.” Her response was soft and reluctant.

  “Are you still willing to come back to Seattle with me?” I’d noticed the packed boxes, but there were also several that appeared to have been torn open. Waiting for her answer, I held my breath.

  “I’m going to be honest with you. I wasn’t going to.” My heart cracked. “You asked me why I didn’t go back to Seattle after I left for Boston. You also asked why I didn’t talk to my parents.” She bit her lips before continuing.

  “When I was diagnosed, remember I told you my parents didn’t take it well? That they fought?” I nodded. She cleared her throat. “Well, their way of coping with finding out their daughter had Leukemia was to drink. It got so bad with the drinking and the fighting that they ended up divorcing while I was going through my treatment. During some of the worst moments of my experience, I was in the hospital alone for days while they were out on benders. The nurses and doctors became more my family than my parents. One day when I was supposed to be discharged after having a bad setback and having spent four days in the hospital, they didn’t even show up to pick me up. My brother was taking care of himself because my mom hadn’t even come home the night before. Child Protective Services got involved, and it was a fucking mess. My mom got clean for about a month, then she was back at it. My neighbor was the one to take me to my most of my treatments after that. She lied and signed my mom’s name. The staff knew, but they turned a blind eye because I was only a few days from eighteen. Then I signed my own shit.”

  “Fuck, baby, I don’t even know what to say. I feel awful for even pulling you into my life now.” When I tried to roll away and get out of bed, she grabbed me and pulled me back.

  “No. You don’t get to make me love you and then try to leave. Shit happens. I made it through it. Now we’re going to make it through this together. Okay?” Her dainty hands framed my face, and I heard the scrape of my bristled whiskers on her palms. “Do you have AA or NA meetings you can go to?”

  “I have a list. I also have info on meetings in the cities we’re scheduled to play in so I can keep it up as we tour. I may not make all of them though.” It was hard to meet her eyes.

  “Then we do the best we can. You go to all the ones you can. You have a sponsor?” I nodded. I’d actually called to touch base with him before I flew out to see her.

  “Yeah. When I told him I was heading here, he told me to call him anytime, night or day.” I took a deep breath, my senses swimming with her scent.

  Soft lips touched mine. “We’re going to get through this. I have faith in you.”

  At those words, my heart nearly imploded. Of all the things my friends and family had said to me over the years, no one had ever told me they had faith in me. “Thank you. I’m going to do my best to make sure that faith isn’t misplaced.”

  “No, you’re not going to do your best.” Confusion hit me. “You are going to think positive. You will do this.
It’s not about doing your best, it’s about succeeding.”

  Gathering her close, I could only hold her tight. I had no words. The woman I held in my arms had shown me she was the strongest woman I knew, and if she could survive and thrive after what she’d been through, I could and would do this for her.

  We stayed in Boston for three days. We packed all of her shit, she showed me the sights of Boston I’d missed on my previous short trips, and we made love.

  Okay, sometimes we straight-up fucked.

  There were some boundaries I couldn’t cross yet, but I was learning to trust her more than I’d ever trusted anyone I’d been intimate with. One thing that never wavered was my love and devotion to her.

  Sex was sex, but intimacy was a special closeness. Except with her, even intimacy transcended to another level. When I was inside her, it was like being high without a substance in my veins.

  She was my new drug of choice.

  And that terrified the fuck out of me.

  I didn’t want to be dependent on anyone ever again. No matter how much I loved her or she loved me. People could leave you, and if you couldn’t find strength in yourself, well, that was a slippery slope to start down.

  So it was important to me not to be codependent. I’d been through enough therapy to know that was possible and not mentally healthy.

  “Are you ready?” It was like déjà vu as we left the airport. Except this time we would go to my apartment first, then my parents’ place.

  Navigating through the downtown Seattle traffic, I could sense her anxiety. Grasping her hand in mine, I rested our clasped hands on the center console. We would be there for each other.

  “As I’ll ever be, I guess.” Her smile was small and more than a little forced.

  After parking in the secure underground garage, I scanned my card and we took the elevator to my floor. She’d never made it to my place the last time we were here. Compared to everyone else’s places, mine was pretty modest.

  The view was killer though.

  As we stepped through the door, I disarmed the security system, then set her suitcase to the side. The rest of her belongings would be arriving in about five days.

  “Oh my God, Logan! This is freaking beautiful! The time we video chatted did not do this place justice!” Skimming her fingers across the granite countertop as she passed, she beelined for the floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the city.

  “I essentially have the same view as Dominic, but he’s several floors up with a much bigger space.” Stuffing my hands in my pockets, my shoulders rising toward my ears, I followed her as she flitted from room to room.

  Only having a two bedroom, it didn’t take long for her to stop in my room. Casting a sultry look over her shoulder, she ran a hand across my bed and smirked. “Did you make your bed for me?”

  For the first time in forever, my face heated. “Uh, no. The cleaning lady did it for me. I was in a hurry, so I asked her to put clean sheets on it and make it when she was here yesterday.”

  “Is she hot? Does she wear a little French maid costume for you?” The twinkle in her eyes told me she was teasing me.

  “Well, if you’re into sixty-ish grandmotherly types.” I grinned.

  The laughter that left her lips was throaty and rich. Then she turned serious. “Umm, how many…. Uh…. I mean, have there been….” She wrapped her arms tightly around herself in a defensive posture, but didn’t finish her question.

  Not that she needed to.

  “Why? Would you want to burn the bed if I had?” Chuckling, I attempted to lighten the mood.

  “No, it’s just that I—” Biting her lip, she shrugged her slender shoulders.

  “Stella, I’ve never had a woman in my apartment, let alone my bed. Well, unless you count Mariah.” Holding my smile in, I watched as she frowned.

  “Mariah?”

  “Yeah, my cleaning lady. I’m not going to say she never leaned on the bed as she made it. It’s a big bed.” I chuckled at her narrowed eyes as she flopped back on the bed.

  “You’re an ass, Logan MacKenzie. You tried to make me think you had some hottie in your bed named Mariah.” Though she tried to maintain her grouchy glower, her grin broke through.

  Crawling up next to her, I propped my head on my palm and watched her as she lay dwarfed in the middle of my massive bed.

  “What?” she asked when I didn’t say anything but kept staring at her.

  “Nothing. You’re so beautiful, I can’t look away. You mesmerize me, and I still can’t believe you’re here.”

  “In your bed?” She smirked.

  “No, in my life.” Melting before me, she reached out to brush my too-long hair out of my face. I wasn’t a long-haired rock star kind of guy. Not since I was a kid. Sure, I’d do a faux-hawk for a show, but usually it was just-rolled-out-of-bed messy looking. “I need a haircut.”

  “I kind of like it. With your scruff, you really look like a badass rock star.” Lips pursed, she studied me.

  Grinning, I leaned over her. “I am a badass rock star. What are you talking about, look like?”

  Stretching up, she gave me a peck of a kiss. “Logan?”

  “Yeah, babe?”

  “Full disclosure.” I didn’t like the sound of that.

  “Um, okay?”

  “Do you still have stuff here?” I loved that she didn’t shy away from asking me and that she met my gaze head-on.

  “No. I had Levi come over and get rid of everything. The booze, the pills—it’s all gone.” Though if I was honest, I’d been tempted to leave out the one small stash I kept for emergencies. It was a “just in case” bottle of oxy. At the last minute, as he was leaving the apartment with the box of shit, I told him to wait. He’d huffed into the phone, thinking I was going to back out of him taking it all.

  I’d told him about it, and he’d been shocked. Not that he’d said it, but I could hear it in the tone of his words.

  Relief skittered across her features, and she caressed my face, rasping over my short beard. “It’s going to be okay.”

  “God, I hope so.” Because I knew this was important to her. I mean, it was important to me too, but I didn’t want to see disappointment in her eyes.

  “It will be. When do we leave for you to catch up to the guys? And do you still want me to go with you?” Her fingers trailed down my neck until her palm rested over my heart.

  “Of course, I do. And we leave day after tomorrow.” She nodded, then pulled at my clothes, telling me without words what she wanted.

  Never one to disappoint my wife—God I fucking loved that—I obliged and stripped myself then her.

  Needless to say, we were late to my family’s house for dinner.

  “Lydia”—Highly Suspect

  Everything had been going great on the tour until about the third week. That’s when I got sick as hell.

  Logan freaked because I was burning up with a fever. I’d hidden it from him until after the show because I didn’t want him performing while worried about me.

  I’d gone to an emergency room under the care of security and my overprotective husband.

  “Fuck, babe, what if your cancer came back? I’m so fucking worried about you.”

  It was times like that when I regretted telling him about my history. It caused him to overreact when it wasn’t necessary.

  “Logan, I doubt that’s it, but if it is, then I’ll deal with it like I did before.” He was stretched out on his side on the skinny gurney, holding me close as I was given IV fluids.

  “Mrs. MacKenzie?” The doctor came in and man, was it strange hearing someone call me Mrs. MacKenzie.

  “Yes?”

  “Well, the tests we ran seem to imply it’s likely just a virus. I’d like you to rest, drink lots of fluids, and come back in if you’re not feeling better in about a week and a half.” I’d been sick for three days already, so that sounded about right.

  He discharged me with a stack of papers I probably wouldn’t read and Motr
in for my aches and pains.

  After that, I could barely get my ass out of the bunk on the bus. Since we were in Portland and his parents had come down for the show with Poppy and Autumn, we decided I would go back with them until I was feeling better. Then I could catch up to the guys if I felt up to it or wait another month before they finished up that leg of the tour.

  Still feeling like total doggie doo, I rolled over and fumbled for my phone in the dark. “Hello?” I mumbled.

  “Damn, still feeling shitty, babe?” He was out of breath, and I glanced at the time on my phone. Their concert would’ve ended recently. Sleepy, I listened to the rustling of what I assumed was him changing out of his sweaty, nasty clothes.

  “Yeah, I’m beginning to think they were full of shit and I have the flu. Has anyone else gotten sick?” I’d feel like shit if I’d gotten any of the guys sick. That was something they couldn’t afford out on the road.

  “So far, so good. I’m worried about you. Mom texted me and said she stopped by to check on you today. You drinking enough?”

  “Yeah.” No, probably not, but I didn’t want to get out of bed to refill my water bottle most of the time.

  “Mom said she’d offered to stay with you, but you said no.” He sounded pouty and overprotective. Even though I felt like shit, I smiled.

  “There’s no need for me to contaminate her any more than absolutely necessary. I’ll be fine. A few more days’ rest and I’ll be good as new.” Sucking down the last of the water I had in my bottle, I fell back on the pillows.

  “I miss you, baby.”

  “Miss you too.”

  “Love you more than life.”

  “Love you more than mocha latte, I win.” My goal was accomplished as he laughed.

  “Okay, baby, I gotta run. Time to sign some autographs and shake hands.”

  “No signing titties,” I grumped.

  He laughed. “No signing titties. Unless they’re yours.”

  “That’s right.” I yawned.