Rock Me Hard

by Casey Hagen

  “God, I love the way you do breakfast,” she huffed out as she slid her hands through his hair and held him there.

  Her thighs quivered and tightened around his ears.

  She sucked in a ragged breath.

  Sensing her release, he parted her and worked two fingers deep inside while he ran his tongue back and forth, flicking the tight bundle of nerves at the heart of her. Setting a punishing pace, he worked her relentlessly.

  In seconds, those hands abandoned his hair altogether, and she slapped her palms against the tabletop. She cried out as her inner muscles squeezed his fingers impossibly tight.

  Spasms rocked her, the slick evidence of her pleasure drenching his fingers and tongue, and he kept his mouth against her as he lapped up every last drop.

  Chapter 11

  NATALIE LEANED ON HER hand and struggled to catch her breath.

  Aiden smiled up at her from between her thighs, his fingertip tracing over the outline of her tattoo. His eyes still on hers, he sucked his bottom lip into his mouth, tasting her.

  Her heart kicked against her ribs as a part of her surrendered itself to him. The real her. Not Nikki Lane.

  But Natalie.

  What was in those donuts?

  Hell, what was in that orgasm?

  He rose to his feet and stood between her legs. Cupping his hand around the back of her neck, he drew her in for a warm, languid kiss.

  Their breath mingled, his heat enveloped her, and maybe a bit of magic that was Aiden.

  “You okay?” he whispered against her lips.

  “Mmmm, never better,” she said, wrapping her hands around his wrists as he kissed his way over her cheek to her ear. “My donut didn’t survive.”

  “We’ll have a burial,” he said with a rough laugh against her temple as he stared down at the broken chunks scattered across the floor. “There’s more where that came from.”

  “Good, because I’m starving. But first...” She reached for the snap of his jeans.

  “What are you doing?” he asked, taking a step back.

  “Returning the favor,” she said, tugging him back to her.

  “There’s no scorecard in this,” he said with a laugh, his tan cheeks going pink with what looked an awful lot like embarrassment.

  Another piece of her heart sighed.

  “But isn’t it going to be painful if we don’t take care of your, um...condition?” She bit her cheek and glanced down at the bulge in the front of his jeans while heated memories came flooding back of how he’d taken her hard and fast with the mouthwatering pieces of flesh behind his zipper.

  “Stop that,” he said.

  “What?” she said, sparing him a brief glance before dropping her gaze once again.

  “You’re licking your lips. Come on...slide those jeans back on, and let’s hit the road.”

  “Aiden the Impaler seems a bit hesitant to let me get my mouth on him.”

  He took a step back and reached for her jeans crumpled up next to them. “Aiden the Impaler knows that if those sweet lips of yours give his cock even the briefest of hugs, we’ll never get out of here. What kind of road trip buddy would I be if we only make it to your bed? And that’s a big if, considering what I just did to you on your dining room table.” He held her lace underwear in front of her, draped over his fingertip.

  She slid off the edge and bent down to step into her underwear. “Do you hear me complaining?”

  “No,” he said with a rough laugh. “Screaming, but not complaining.”

  “I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to look at this table with a straight face again. If my father ever found out...” She couldn’t say it. She cringed at the thought. Instead, she dragged her jeans on.

  “Ah, so he’s the one with the thing for not putting your elbows on the table?” he asked.

  “It’s not that. He’s the one who made it,” she said, fastening the snap.

  Aiden froze, hunched over, picking up what was left of the pastry. “Tell me you’re joking.”

  She shook her head and stifled a laugh. “Sorry. Can’t do that.”

  He wrapped the food in a napkin and glanced around. “He didn’t make your bed, did he?”

  “Nope.”

  “We do it there from now on,” he said, shooting a dark look at the table.

  She shrugged. “No sex on our road trip. Bummer.”

  “I’m referring to after.”

  “You planning on sticking around?” She didn’t mean the words to sound as unsure as they did slipping from her lips, but now that she said them, she couldn’t regret them. She wanted to know.

  They had one hell of an attraction to each other, and she hadn’t been kidding about all the aspects of him that just made him so damn perfect. He was the whole package and more importantly, there was this sense of honor about him that told her she was safe with him. She could be Natalie, and he’d respect that.

  “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be,” he said quietly.

  “Are you sure you don’t have a wife somewhere that I know nothing about? A whole slew of kids and a second life and all that?”

  “No,” he said with an embarrassed laugh. “I’m still figuring out how I’m going to give you the attention you deserve and keep up with the other people in my life who need me. Apparently, I’m just selfish enough to try.”

  “Your dad,” she said quietly.

  He crossed his arms and cocked a hip against the chair. “Yeah. It’s only going to get worse.”

  “He comes first. You never have to explain that. It’s not like my life is complication-free.” She tried not to let him see the way she held her breath when she pointed it out. It was one thing to tour for months at a time and know you were missing...something. You could picture settling down, having a husband, maybe a few kids, but they were a faceless dream that you easily put off, figuring you had time.

  “Sounds like I wasn’t the only one planning on sticking around for a while,” he said.

  “You have a problem with that?”

  “Not at all. Surprised, but glad.” He kissed her forehead and rubbed his hands up her arms. “Where’s your stuff?”

  “Over there on the couch,” she said, pointing to the living room.

  “Just a duffle bag?” he asked.

  “It’s only a few days.”

  A look of confusion clouded his features. “No makeup, hair stuff, high heels?”

  “I don’t wear more than mascara and lip gloss when I’m home, if that, and there’s not much taming this on my own without dumping gallons of chemicals and adding a questionable amount of heat to it. My hair needs a break,” she said, pointing to the top of her head. “As for heels, you should never drive in heels, and there will be lots of driving.”

  He reached for a curl, stretched it out in front of her eyes, and smiled as he let it spring back. “I love your hair like this.”

  “Me too. It means I can go in public without being recognized. I don’t know what I would do if I was ever exposed. Being Nikki Lane only works if I have privacy in my downtime.” She stretched socks over her, slid them into a pair of fuzzy boots and draped her jacket over her arm. “Ready?” she asked on a huff of breath.

  He slid the strap of her bag over his shoulder and opened the door. “Is that what this house is about? Privacy? I expected you to have some sort of estate. Actually, didn’t I see a mansion in Los Angeles on one of those entertainment shows?”

  “You did, but I don’t live there. Actually, it’s a vacation home for my staff. They divvy up the weeks out of the year and stay there with their families.” She stepped out and reached for the lock when he joined her. The hair prickled on the back of her neck, and she turned to find him boring a hole in the back of her head, his slack jaw showing his surprise. “What?”

  “It’s just for your employees? Not you?”

  “No, I’ve joined them for parties there occasionally, but this is my home. Don’t get me wrong, California is great...in small doses, but the
wilds of New England had this way of tangling in my heart and molding me. It always calls me home.”

  “I’m going to have to work to not fall in love with you,” he said, reaching around to knead his neck.

  “Aiden?” she said, touching his arm and smiling up into those warm brown eyes that made her think of suave and mysterious men, but the stature of a man with a quiet strength underlying his every other facet. “Why hold yourself back? I’m not.”

  THEY LOADED NATALIE’S Jeep and rolled out of the driveway, heading back toward town. Aiden glanced over at her as she smoothly navigated the road while adjusting the heat and flipping through the programmed stations.

  Why hold yourself back? I’m not.

  Christ, he had a lot of reasons to hold back. The biggest, so his mind could catch up with what was happening to his heart. So he could figure out how all of this would work.

  So he made sure not to get in too deep before finding out that life, fate, karma, whatever, didn’t have something else in store for them or that their wildly different lifestyles couldn’t be woven together.

  He’d had enough of putting out fires and figuring it out as he went, and his mind scrambled now to see if it could lay this out just right so they followed the course with no messes later.

  But if anything, life had taught him that life was sloppy. His mother, his father, his brother...they’d all been startlingly different examples of the same elemental truth.

  Was he really going to spend this whole trip letting doubts creep in? Talk about sabotaging them before they even had a chance to start.

  “So, what’s the game plan? Do we have a destination?” he asked.

  “Nope, but there are rules—ooh, I love this song!” she said, hopping in her seat and turning up the volume, but not high enough to make it difficult to talk.

  “Are you a big country fan?” he asked, surprised that she settled on it right away after passing by four stations that played the same pop music she sang.

  “Huge...I even have cowboy boots in my bag in case the mood strikes,” she said with a light laugh.

  “Is that why you did Crossroads?”

  “Actually, that was Rance’s idea. I just ran with it.”

  “If you like country so much, why don’t you just sing country?”

  “Well, I don’t mean to make it sound like I don’t like pop,” she said, flexing her slim fingers on the wheel.

  “But?”

  “I don’t know, country is a little too close, I guess. I write all of my songs as though they’ll be country songs and then work with my team to change them into pop hits. It just feels safer.”

  “You are hidden heart,” he said.

  She clenched the wheel a bit tighter, showing her nerves. “Maybe. Is protecting it so bad?” she asked, biting her lip and glancing up at the red light.

  He reached for her hand and brought it to his lips for a brief kiss. “No, but I wonder why you’re so willing to open it to me.”

  She stared down at the hand he’d kissed. “The fact that you recognized me, the real me, I feel like I can trust you to protect it just as much as I would,” she said quietly.

  And she was right. But there was something...missing. It’s like she didn’t see it. She didn’t see this version of her the same way he did. The curly hair was practical. The lack of makeup was for her skin’s health.

  Those were her reasons, but he saw a whole lot more.

  Right now, in this moment, with her sleeves pushed up and her tattoos peeking out, her hair in a riot around her head, and her fresh face, she wore her soul right there on the outside.

  With his camera, he could capture her and make her see what she showed the rest of the world like this.

  And maybe he could make her trust herself to let it out in her music while still protecting her privacy.

  “So, you said a little something about rules?” he asked. He wanted to bring that smile back and get them back on more solid ground.

  For now.

  With the idea niggling in the back of his mind that he could rock her world...later.

  He smiled.

  “First, no interstates,” she said, wrinkling her nose and hitting the gas.

  “We aren’t going to get very far in just a few days,” he pointed out.

  “That’s okay. Distance isn’t the point. Discovery is,” she said, casting him a glance.

  “Anything in particular you’re looking for?”

  “Inspiration, relaxation, a burger with the right ratio of cheese to bacon, a soft bed with warm blankets. I’m not picky.”

  He grabbed his camera, flicked off the lens, and took a picture of her bouncing in the driver’s seat, her rosy cheeks standing in stark contrast to her fair features, the hint of freckles sprinkled over her skin, something he hadn’t spotted until just now when the low-hanging sun caught her at just the right angle.

  “What are you doing?” she asked, casting him a glance, a nervous laugh on her lips.

  “Taking a picture of you.”

  “Why?”

  He shrugged. “Why not?”

  “Just promise me you won’t share it unless I tell you it’s okay,” she said, pointing a finger at him.

  “I’m not going to out you, Nikki,” he assured her.

  She blew out a breath and cast him a glance. “I know. I’m just jumpy about that stuff, I guess. Other than family photos, I don’t look like this anywhere.”

  “I haven’t had a chance to spend some real quality time with my camera in at least a year. I thought it might be nice to see what I catch while we’re on the road, but if you don’t—”

  She slowed to a stop at the light and glanced around. “No, really, it’s fine. I’m used to the cameras being more a part of Nikki’s life, not mine.”

  “Oh, come on, it must be more a part of you than you realize. Instagram, Facebook, Twitter maybe?” he asked.

  “Nope. Not for Natalie,” she said with a shake of her head and a twitch of her full, kissable lips.

  “It’s weird that you think of yourself as two different people. I don’t see you like that...at least not as separated as you seem to.”

  It was like she hadn’t ever planned to fully step into her famous persona, and she didn’t seem to realize it. He was fairly certain she wouldn’t welcome the observation.

  “How do you see me?” she asked.

  “You take care of yourself. So many people out there are so willing to sell off pieces of themselves for a bit of fame and fortune, but you’ve loved yourself. You’ve protected yourself. You’ve set boundaries and stuck to them. It’s impressive.”

  “Don’t go holding me up on a pedestal, or you’ll be disappointed. I’m definitely not perfect. I can’t cook for shit, I leave wet towels on the floor, and I’m horrible about rinsing my toothpaste out of the sink.”

  “Your secret’s safe with me,” he said as he tried to conceal his laugh with a cough.

  “I know you’re laughing at me. So, what about you?”

  “What about me?” he asked, avoiding the question as long as he could, which judging from her inquisitive gaze and the way she arched that brow at him, would be all of five more seconds. Tops.

  “Oh, come on, you can’t be completely perfect. Spill it,” she said.

  He sighed. “I hate green vegetables. If I don’t use a laundry service, my clean clothes sit in baskets for weeks at a time, and I usually have a stack of mail sitting by my coffee pot at least a foot high because I never get around to opening it.”

  “The vegetables and laundry I can see, but the mail? And stacked next to your coffee pot, no less?” She shook her head and tsked. “I might have to think this through.”

  “I’m pretty sure if I promise to never skip breakfast again, you’d be willing to overlook it.”

  Her skin flushed, and he snapped another picture.

  They reached a T in the road on the outskirts of Ridgefield. “Okay, we have a decision to make. Right or left?”

 
He sat up straighter and looked back and forth to see the same two lane stretching both ways, one headed north, one south, leafless trees and gray skies looming in the future of each. “Uh, left, I guess.”

  “It’s not a quiz. You don’t have to look like someone’s holding a gun to your head. Look, how about this. We’ll rock, paper, and scissors for it at every intersection and see where we end up.”

  He laughed and shook his head. “Rock, paper, scissors? What are we, twelve?”

  “And here I thought you had a sense of adventure. How old are you anyway?” she asked.

  “Hey, I’m not that much older than you,” he lied.

  The look she shot him called him on it without words. “Prove it.” She held her fist in the air and waited.

  “Fine. If the driver wins, we go left. Passenger, we go right,” he said, holding his fist in the air. “Wait, but what if it’s a four-corner intersection?”

  “A draw is straight so other than that it’s right or left,” she said.

  He’d only been on the road with her for a few minutes and already the demands, worries, and all the questions that loomed in his future fell away as the spirit of the game took over. Little did she know, from where she sat in his treatment room, she gave that to him.

  He winked at her when she glanced over. “You’re on. Ready? Rock, paper, scissors, shoot.”

  Chapter 12

  THEIR GAME TOOK THEM through Redding and Monroe before landing them in Newtown. Natalie grew quiet with each sign they passed telling them they were just a few miles closer to the town where twenty children and six adults died a little more than six years before.

  “If it’s too much, we can avoid it,” he said, already knowing what her answer would be. He wondered if their direction would cast a shadow over the rest of their trip and then called himself all sorts of an asshole for even letting the thought flit into his mind.

  She’d never turn away from this. He knew it. The woman at that concert who took so much time with her fans, and at her own expense, she wouldn’t let sadness stop her. After all, she was still here, and they weren’t.