Turn up the Tempo (Lyrical Odyssey Rock Star Series Book 4)

by Charli B. Rose

  He pressed a closed mouth kiss to my slit. That kiss planted anywhere else on my body would be considered chaste. But in that location, it was fire. He breathed one hot puff of air against me, and then his tongue slicked along my most intimate parts. Using his fingers, he spread me open to allow himself better access, which he totally took advantage of. He lapped at my clit with the tip of his tongue, fluttering it in a rapid motion, causing heat to gather and concentrate in that area. Just as I was getting used to his rhythm, he flattened his tongue and stroked me with the hard, metal piercing in his mouth.

  I dug my heels into the mattress and thrust my hips up against his mouth, ready to ride his face. He lifted his mouth from me for an instant and said, “Get ready to shout to the stars. Let them know you’re coming, angel.” Then he wrapped his lips around that little knot of nerves and sucked until I shouted his name and saw stars behind my lids.

  When I finally opened my eyes a few seconds later, Brooks was shedding his clothes. He crawled up my body and shifted us until my head was on a foam pillow. “There’s that gorgeous, blissed out face I see in my dreams.” Gently, he tucked a lock of hair behind my ear.

  There was so much emotion on his face it made my heart flutter chaotically. I needed him. Now. “Brooks, please,” I whispered.

  “What do you want, angel? You want my cock inside you, stretching you, stroking all the way inside you, erasing every memory of anyone before me? You want me taking you fast and slow, hard and soft, thrusting into you until you’re delirious?” he murmured filthily in my ear as his dick slid along my seam, bumping against my clit.

  “Yes. All of that. I want you in me now.” I didn’t even recognize my voice with the neediness coloring my tone.

  I hitched my legs up around his hips, clinging to him. The tip of his cock teased my entrance. Balancing his weight on one arm, he grasped my hip and tilted my body to receive him. And receive him I did. He sank into me slowly. Inch by inch. Sigh by sigh, he joined us until I felt like he truly was a part of me, and I was a part of him. It was a heady feeling. One I’d never experienced before.

  With him fully buried in me, he lowered his torso until his chest pressed against mine. I welcomed the weight and warmth of him.

  “That what you want?” His face hovered millimeters above mine. Those gorgeous green eyes spoke volumes about his feelings.

  I nodded. My arms wound around his shoulders, needing to draw him as close as I could.

  Staring into my eyes, he began to move his hips. Slow, deep thrusts that dragged against my inner muscles and hit all those sensitive spots. Whenever he was all the way in, he swiveled his hips, grinding his pubic bone against my clit. His arms snaked beneath my back, cradling me to him.

  The combination of the leisurely pace, the intimate embrace and the intense look in his eyes made what we were doing so much more than sex. If I was a foolish woman with stars in her eyes, I’d swear we were making love. But I wasn’t a foolish woman.

  However, I was beginning to collect stars in my eyes. Ones that weren’t just the result of a mind-blowing orgasm. I bit my lip, trapping words inside that wanted to explode out of me. Stupid words that I vowed I’d never say. A confession. An admission. A vow. A soul-deep truth.

  But I felt them. And if I didn’t know any better, based on the expression on Brooks’s face, he felt them too.

  When his pace grew a little more erratic, Brooks lowered his mouth to mine. He breathed, “Angel,” against my lips, then kissed me into oblivion. And that moment, that connection, was something special. And terrifying as hell.

  My fragile heart was ready to crack wide open to make space for him to inhabit. He was more than I bargained for. More than I was prepared for. But I was ready to bask in whatever we were.

  Brooks collapsed on top of me, holding me tightly to him. His forehead pressed to mine. “Wow, that was … I am not even going to cheapen what that was by using words like amazing or phenomenal. It was … everything,” he whispered, awe all over his face.

  Yes, it was everything. Rather than verbally agreeing, I fused my mouth to his, choosing to let my kiss speak for me.

  When we came up for air, Brooks stood, and I mourned the loss of his comforting weight and heat. After he discarded the condom, he opened the wicker chest next to the bed. With his hands filled with a fleece blanket, he came back to the bed. Shaking it out, he draped it over my naked body then crawled in behind me. I snuggled against him, not even questioning the desire to sleep in his arms. Sleeping with someone was not my normal MO. Something I’d only ever done once before. With him ten months ago.

  Chapter 26

  Brooks

  The bright glare of the sun woke me. I hadn’t anticipated how bright it would be out here when we’d fallen asleep last night. And on a normal day, I’d be a little grumpy about being awakened by the brightness of the ball of fire in the sky. But I couldn’t help the smile that split my face as I gazed down at the tangle of brown hair spread across my chest. My arms tightened around her as I watched her sleep. Peace settled all around me as I surveyed each of her features. The long, dark lashes resting against her flawless skin. Light pink dusting the apples of her cheeks. Arched eyebrows. Soft lips with the bottom being fuller than the top. The perfect little dip that divided the upper one. Silky, chocolate waves trailing from the top of her head. Even sleep tousled, she was stunning.

  I dozed in and out of sleep, completely content in the moment. A light touch, barely there, caused me to stir from slumber once more. My eyelids cracked open so I could see the fantasy come to life in my arms.

  Her cheek rested over my heart. She peeked up at me. Then she turned her attention back to where her index finger delicately traced the lines of my tattoo.

  "Isn't this on the wrong side of your chest?" she asked, her voice still thickened by sleep.

  "What? Why do you think that?" I asked with a frown.

  "Don't most people get their first chest tattoo over their hearts or something?" Her fingernail scratching along my skin was incredibly distracting.

  I shrugged, causing her head to slide across my chest a little. "It didn't seem important enough to mark my heart with. Don't get me wrong, the tattoo and what it stands for means a lot to me. Just not enough to take that kind of priority on my body. Maybe nothing will ever matter enough to mark that spot. Who knows?" I tweaked her nose to lift the heaviness of my confession.

  She giggled then kissed the skin over my heart, invisibly marking me.

  "What are your plans for the day?" I asked as I stroked my fingers up and down her spine. She arched into my touch like a cat.

  "I don't have any, why?" She propped her chin up in her hand so she could stare at me.

  I brushed a lock of hair back from her face, securing it behind her ear. "I want to take you out. Spend the day with you."

  "You mean a date?" she asked, shocked.

  I thought about it for a second then smiled. "Yeah, a date."

  A grin dawned on her beautiful face. "I'd love to."

  “Have you been to the pier yet?” The pier was somewhere I hadn’t even checked out in the time I’d lived here.

  “I’ve wanted to, but I haven’t had a chance yet.”

  “Your wait is over as of today.” I squeezed her to me more tightly.

  “I know it might make me a dork, but I’m so excited.” She shifted, moving to get off the bed. The blanket slid off her enough to reveal a tantalizing strip of toned muscle and skin from shoulder to toe.

  I tightened my grip on her and slid my hand down to cup her ass cheek. “We don’t have to get up right now,” I murmured, giving the flesh filling my palm a little squeeze.

  A sly smile ghosted her lips as she shifted her lower half onto my lower half. “We don’t?”

  “Un-uhh,” I mumbled against her lips. “We can stay here a little longer. Greet the day properly.” Before she could argue one way or the other, I decided to convince her with body language rather than words. Specifically, my tongu
e, fingers and cock, which was straining painfully hard in her direction.

  Thankfully, she didn’t need much convincing to start speaking my language.

  After a leisurely round of morning sex, I left Brittany to shower while I went downstairs to let Lyric out and make coffee. The pup danced around my ankles, so I opened the door and sent her on her way to do her business. Then I moved to the counter and pressed a few buttons on the coffee maker.

  Minutes later, I stood on the deck with my hands wrapped around my mug. Today was going to be a great day. I just had a feeling. And God knew I could use one. A whole day, nothing but me and Britt. Laughing, talking, being together. It would be perfect.

  Lyric ran around the yard with a red ball in her mouth. She tried to bark but kept dropping the ball. She was a riot. I couldn’t help but laugh at her. Growing up, I’d always wanted a dog. But Dad was allergic. Maybe one day I’d have a house and a wife and a family and a dog.

  Slim arms slid around my waist, and Britt pressed against my back. “I don’t think I said it earlier, but good morning, Brooks,” she murmured, her lips brushing against the back of my neck, causing goosebumps to rise.

  I pulled her around to my front and tipped her chin up so I could be mesmerized by her sapphire gaze. “I haven’t ever had a better morning than this one, angel. Good morning to you too.” I bent my head down to fuse our lips. And a good morning turned fantastic. I took my time tasting her, enjoying just kissing her. My fingers fit along the line of her jaw just so. The silky strands of her hair sifted through them as my fingers inched along her skin. My other hand pressed against the small of her back, which felt like a notch on her body made just to fit my touch.

  It was so hard to wrap my mind around how we fit together. My heart pitter-pattered at the concept. But I wouldn’t allow myself the space to analyze it.

  ♪ Puzzle of Us by Adam Doleac

  When she pulled back to catch her breath, she laughed up at me. It was a sound of pure merriment. “I could kiss you all day,” she whispered as she reached up to wipe her lip gloss from my mouth with the pad of her thumb.

  “I was thinking the same thing.” I winked. “But if we do that, you’ll miss out on the pier and the Ferris wheel and the aquarium and the performers and the food.”

  With a heavy sigh, she dropped her hand to rest against the center of my chest. “You’re right.”

  I kept my arm around her, not ready to relinquish her nearness just yet. “And you’re beautiful.” She was dressed in tight jeans and a long, turquoise sweater which made her eyes appear brighter.

  Blushing, she tipped her chin down, not meeting my gaze. My hand in her hair allowed me to reverse the direction of her stare. With every ounce of conviction I possessed, I said, “You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

  My confession seemed to take her aback. She was uncomfortable with the compliment. Her cheeks flushed an adorable shade of pink.

  I kissed the tip of her nose. “Come on, let’s go. I’ve got to stop by my place to change.”

  “OK,” she whispered with a smile before she turned her attention to the yard. “Lyric, come.” She clapped her hands.

  The pup turned her head in our direction. I gave a shrill whistle, and she bounded over to us. Leaning over, I picked her up. “Who’s a good girl for coming when she was called?” I cooed at her. She wiggled in my arms. “That’s right, you are. And you’re wet. Let’s get you dried off.”

  “I’ll go get a towel,” Britt said and headed inside to the bathroom downstairs.

  I watched until she disappeared down the hallway. The way her ass swayed was hypnotizing. Then I turned my attention back to the dog currently licking my chin. “Did you gather all the dew in the yard up in your fur?” I asked in a baby-talk voice.

  When I walked into the kitchen, Britt was there with a fluffy towel. Together we dried off Lyric. “I want to give her a chance to eat a little before we put her in her crate,” Britt said, so I set the puppy in front of her bowls.

  Nearly an hour later, I pulled into the parking garage of my building. As soon as I turned the ignition off, I dashed around to her door and helped her down.

  “Such a gentleman,” she praised with a wide grin.

  I smirked. “Only with you, angel.” Then I kissed her lightly.

  “Why do you always taste like cinnamon?” she asked as I linked our fingers.

  I opened my mouth, showing her the small, red candy I held between my teeth. “When we first started touring, I picked up the whole cigarette habit.” I shuddered, remembering it. “Everyone in the clubs smoked. The promoters, the managers, the sound techs. It was a terrible habit to pick up. For me, it only lasted about a year. Then I tried to quit, but it was a lot harder than I thought it’d be. An old friend suggested I find a candy or gum to use to replace the oral fixation that smoking gave me. So, I bought this giant tub of atomic fire balls from a candy shop. I’d loved them as a kid. Anytime I wanted to smoke, I sucked on the hot balls.” I shrugged as we boarded the elevator in the corner of the garage.

  “And that helped?” she asked.

  “Surprisingly, it did.” The elevator began to rise.

  “So when you eat one, does that mean you’d really rather have a cigarette?” she asked, concern in her tone.

  “Nah. Not all the time. There are times when I’m stressed out, and I really crave a cigarette.” The elevator doors slid open, and I led us down the hall to my apartment. “And there are times when I’d really rather have my mouth on something else—” I waggled my eyebrows at her suggestively. “—but I can’t indulge at that particular moment, so I suck on fire balls.”

  She blushed and buried her face against my arm as I unlocked the door and entered my apartment. Wilder was seated at the bar in our kitchen, a bowl of cereal in front of him. His gaze swept over the two of us. Tension rose as Britt straightened. I didn’t release her hand. Instead, I used it to keep her close to me.

  “Hey, Wilder,” she whispered.

  He didn’t respond, just dipped his chin in acknowledgement. Then he got to his feet, dumped his bowl in the sink and walked out the front door.

  After a few seconds of silence, Britt said, “That was awkward.”

  “Yeah. But he’ll get over it. Come on.” I tugged her hand, pulling her in the direction of my bedroom.

  She sat on the edge of my bed, admiring the images hanging on my wall, while I dug through my clothes to find something to wear.

  “Are these guys all bass players?” she asked.

  “Yeah. Some of the greatest of all time. Paul McCartney, Geddy Lee, Billy Sheehan, Les Claypool, John Paul Jones,” I ticked off the names of some of my music idols.

  “Do you play anything besides bass?”

  “I started out playing guitar. Then I decided to try to learn bass. After I began hanging out with Dawson, I really focused on bass because he played guitar.” I pulled a pair of jeans out of my bottom drawer.

  “Bass is easier to learn, right? Since it only has four strings instead of six,” she said curiously.

  My spine stiffened momentarily before I snatched a pair of boxer briefs from my top drawer then whirled around. I placed my clean clothes on the chair next to my dresser. “Most people think that. And in some ways, they’re right. But bass is more difficult to play physically. It’s a heavier instrument. The neck is longer. And the strings are thicker and heavier, so it requires more finger strength to fret the notes correctly.”

  With her eyes on me, I tugged my shirt over my head and tossed it in the direction of the hamper in the corner. Keeping my gaze on her, I popped the button on my jeans then eased down the zipper. “My fingers are very strong, angel.” I held up my free hand and wiggled my fingers.

  She trapped her lower lip between her teeth as I slowly shoved the denim down my legs. When I tucked my fingers beneath the waistband of my underwear, she leaned forward on the mattress. As I slipped the cotton down from my hips, she shifted her weight, rubbing her th
ighs together. My cock sprang free, causing her to lick her lips. I bent over to pick my dirty laundry up off the floor. Slowly, I sauntered over to the hamper to deposit my clothes.

  With the weight of her stare on me like a caress, my dick throbbed, aching for her touch. I couldn’t recall a time when I’d felt so insatiable about a woman. Taking a deep breath, I forced myself to not go to her and thrust myself into any willing part of her body. Today was about taking her on a date. I was determined to make it more than just sex.

  As I slipped on my underwear, I said, “You know, most people don’t realize that bass guitar is a really unique instrument because it marries rhythm and melody in a song. It’s the only instrument that fulfills roles in both main categories of music foundation.”

  “Is that so?” she asked distractedly, her gaze on the bulge in my boxers.

  I stepped into my jeans. “Yes.” Without fastening my jeans, I strolled over to the corner where one of my bass guitars rested in a stand. I wrapped my fingers around the neck and carried it over to the bed. “I’m sure you’ve heard an acoustic version of a song before, right?” I asked as I sank to the mattress beside her.

  “Yeah, of course.” She shifted her weight, turning her body in my direction.

  “Have you ever paid attention to how stripped down the songs sound? How heavy on melody they are?”

  She tilted her head, considering my question. “I never really thought about it.”

  “Bass guitar adds texture, depth to a song. Get your phone out,” I ordered, an idea in mind.

  She held her phone out to me. I navigated to YouTube and typed into the search bar.

  “Maybe you’ll know this song.” An acoustic version of Sublime’s “Santeria” began to play through the phone’s speaker.

  ♪ Santeria by Sublime