Passionate Addiction

by Eden Summers

  “Yeah, you heard right. And don’t think I didn’t notice the distain in your gaze when you looked at him.” Gabi let go of Blake’s hand and bent over to pick up their towels. “I introduced you to my best friend, Troy,” she spoke over her shoulder, “and all you did was glare. So thank you for your concern, but I’m sure if I need anything, Blake will be able to provide it.”

  Bam. Prissy boy just got served.

  Blake felt sorry for the dude. From the way Troy’s mouth gaped and his shoulders slumped, it was obvious the guy felt like his balls had been shredded. Blake contemplated sticking up for the douche… Fuck that. Muscle man would have time to suck up to her once Blake was gone. He believed in helping a brother out, but not when it came to Gabi.

  She walked away, heading for the road, and he tried not to smirk when he followed.

  Blake had always been a guy’s-guy. Bros before hos and all that crap. But as he caught up to her and they walked hand in hand to her apartment, he couldn’t stop thinking that no other brother—Mitchell or the other band members included—would ever mean more to him than Gabi.

  “How are you feelin’?” Blake murmured into her neck from the seat beside her in business class.

  He’d asked her the same question more times than she could count, his concern making her smile. Since the tumble at the beach, he’d acted like a complete gentleman—bathing her with soft kisses, gently washing her hair in the shower, and picking out a floral sundress for her to wear. The design was prim and proper, making her feel like a Stepford wife, especially when standing next to Blake, but she wore it anyway because of the way his gaze devoured her with it on.

  He’d sat on the edge of her bed, watching her unpack the clothes from last night and re-pack warmer ones for the cooler, late-spring Melbourne weather. Not once did he act on the lust glazing his eyes. And she was thankful. Although her need for him hadn’t faded, she was still shaken from the hit she’d taken at the beach. Her legs had been pummeled by the ocean, her head hitting the ground hard, leaving her dazed and confused and possibly suffering from a minor concussion.

  “Good.” She grabbed Blake’s hand on the arm rest and gave it a squeeze. Apart from a killer headache, she was fine. Once her feet were back on solid ground, she’d down a couple of aspirin and be right as rain.

  “You look pale.”

  That could have something to do with the stabbing pain that sliced through her head whenever the plane jolted from turbulence. “I’ll be fine once we land.” And if aspirin didn’t work, she planned to test the theory that sex cured headaches.

  Taking a deep breath, she focused on the leather cuff around Blake’s wrist. Damn sexy. Damn naughty. It was strange that one piece of jewelry could melt her insides like butter. Then there were the tattoos that wove up his arm. With her index finger she followed the patterns, tracing over familiar song lyrics, tribal swirls, and musical notes, enjoying the way his gaze tracked her movements over the collage of images.

  The plane jolted with another burst of turbulence and she squeezed her eyes shut, digging her nails into Blake’s skin at the sudden slash of blinding pain.

  “Holy…shit.” Blake choked and grabbed her hand. “Retract the claws, kittycat.”

  She opened one eye a crack and winced before closing it again. “Sorry.”

  “Why don’t you get up and stretch your legs? It might make you feel better.”

  The throb between her temples receded while the plane coasted forward smoothly. “Maybe later.” Right now her only comfort came from him, and she didn’t want to lose that.

  He brought her hand to his lips, and she rested back against the headrest to look at him. His eyes were the darkest shade of brown. The hue bordered on black and spoke of bedroom sins and heated lust. She had no resistance to this man. He had the ability to seduce her with a single glance. Even when she struggled under the threat of a migraine, he made her body ignite.

  “Do you need me to distract you?”

  She loved that tone of his—the one that fell from his lips with such tempting masculinity.

  He placed his mouth around the tip of her index finger and bit down lightly on the nail. Her nipples tingled in response, and she discreetly shuffled in the chair, trying to dislodge the ache that formed between her thighs.

  “You know, maybe taking a walk is a great idea,” she rushed out, already falling under his spell. “I’m going to go to the bathroom and freshen up.” He’d already proved that her moral compass didn’t work while in his presence. Christ. They’d been molesting each other at the beach this morning for god’s sake. In between the red and yellow flags and surrounded by a mass of people. Classy. If she wasn’t careful she could find herself straddling him in front of business class.

  Unclicking her belt, she ignored his smirk and maneuvered into the aisle. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

  She walked through the cabin on shaky legs, gripping at stray headrests every time the plane dipped. When she reached the bathroom door, a firm hand landed on her hip, startling her. She turned fast and grimaced through the throb in her head to find Blake hovering over her, his lips tilted in a wicked grin.

  He leaned into her, placing his mouth at her ear. “Whatchya doin’?”

  His warm breath sent a thrill through her traitorous body, dousing her discomfort with something warm and tingly. “Blake,” she warned. “I came up here to get away from you and your sticky fingers.”

  “Mmm,” he growled into her neck. “My fingers aren’t sticky yet, but we can change that.”

  The air left her lungs, and she stepped back to save herself. Her mother would be horrified if she knew the lascivious thoughts currently rushing through her daughter’s mind.

  “Honey, you don’t look well.” He raised his voice, loud enough for nearby passengers to overhear. The smirk left his features and the sudden change from horndog to concerned lover made her feel self-conscious. Surely she didn’t look that bad.

  “You are weird, my friend,” she whispered and unlatched the toilet door.

  “Is everything all right here, Mr. Kennedy?” A feminine voice asked.

  Gabi rolled her eyes and turned to find one of the flight attendants batting her long lashes at Blake. There seemed to be a pattern of them rushing to his side whenever he coughed, or sneezed, or breathed. And this one liked to show her concern with added cleavage.

  “I’m really worried about her,” Blake told the stacked brunette. “Gabi took a knock to the head this morning, and I’m pretty sure she’s suffering from a concussion. I don’t want to leave her alone.”

  The woman spared Gabi a fleeting glance before focusing back on Blake. “I understand your concern, however, company policy doesn’t allow for more than one passenger to be in the bathroom at a time.”

  “Yeah, I know. I just don’t want to leave her alone,” Blake continued. “Especially when she says she’s nauseous and lightheaded.”

  Gabi ignored them and stepped into the tiny bathroom. Before she could close the door on their conversation, he placed his foot between the frame.

  “I don’t want you closing the door, Sugar.” He ended with an exaggerated southern twang. “What happens if you pass out?”

  Gabi rolled her eyes. There was no risk of her passing out. She had a headache, and the only reason she was the slightest bit nauseous was because the pilots didn’t know how to fly the damn plane in a straight line.

  “Blake.” She frowned at him, placing her hands on her hips.

  When his smile increased and he winked, her stomach did a little flip. Riiiiight. Maybe her concussion was more serious than she thought. This was a mile high thing, not a worried about concussion thing. She had totally missed his implication.

  She narrowed her gaze and tried to think while her heart thumped like elephant feet against her ribs. Did she really want to skirt the skanky line and join the mile high club with a sexy rock star who she loved without remorse? Ahh, yep… She definitely had a concussion if she had to contemp
late that question.

  Letting out a defeated sigh, she attempted an Academy Award performance. “Well, I don’t want to yuck my guts up in front of passengers, do I? So either get in or get out.” She kept the annoyance plastered on her face while she fought hard against the burst of laughter demanding to break free.

  The flight attendant jerked back at Gabi’s snarky tone. “Umm, if she’s truly ill, I’ll leave you to look after her, Mr. Kennedy. If her condition worsens, please come get me immediately.”

  “No problem,” Blake answered while his gaze raked down Gabi’s body one slow inch at a time. He stepped forward, dominant and maybe a little arrogant, as she retreated into the far wall of the compact bathroom. When he closed the door, shutting them into the tiny space, she swallowed down her excitement.

  “It took a while for you to catch on, angel. Maybe you’re not as naughty as I thought you were.”

  She raised a brow. Her steady stream of past lovers made her far from pure. However, she wasn’t even close to being a mile high ticket holder. Or an ocean pass holder. Before today, anyway.

  “Or was it the bump to your head?” He grabbed her hand and tugged her into his chest.

  “Maybe I was trying to get away from you, after the way you almost drowned me with the last orgasm.”

  He chuckled and leaned in to kiss her jaw. “I’ll make it up to you.”

  She closed her eyes and began drowning again, this time from the consuming burst of pleasure that pulsed through her at the touch of his lips.

  With a gentle nudge of his hips, he turned her to face the tiny basin, her back to his chest. He never stopped kissing her, caressing her, his hands roaming her body in a mad rush. She gripped the counter and ground into his erection, loving the feel of hard flesh against her ass.

  “We shouldn’t be doing this.” Her conscience spoke aloud. “There are hundreds of people on the other side of that door.” Just like at the beach… The thought had her eyes bursting open. “Do you enjoy this type of thing?”

  He paused, and their gazes connected in the mirror, his long dark lashes framing fierce eyes.

  She cleared her throat. “I mean, are you an exhibitionist? Do you like having sex around lots of people?”

  He tilted his head on an angle and studied her. “I’m a musician, Gabi. I love a crowd.”

  She stopped breathing. Although this morning at the beach had been a rush, she didn’t think she could do that all the time. She’d never been the kinky type.

  He leaned in and sucked hard on her neck, jiggling the necklace she couldn’t bear to take off. “But not when it comes to sex,” he spoke in her ear. “I’d die before I let another man see you naked. I’m too jealous for that.” His hands trailed along her waist, bunching her sundress so the knee high hem drew to the top of her thighs. “I want you all to myself.”

  Both hands went underneath the waistband of her panties, his fingers teasing her clit with light strokes. Her core convulsed with the promise in his touch, and she rested against his body, raising one arm behind her to cup the back of his neck while the other gripped the counter for support.

  “I don’t want to share you either.” Her admission stunned her. She didn’t want to share him, never had even in friendship, only they lived so far apart. He was a terrifyingly gorgeous man, and his life was surrounded with free and eager women. Would he put that on hold, temporarily or permanently, for her?

  “What are you thinking about?” He asked into her hair.

  She snapped out of her thoughts and pasted a smile on her face. She needed to enjoy every minute she had left with him, not dwell on what would happen once the fairytale was over.

  “Nothing.” She shook her head and turned to kiss his jaw.

  “Angels shouldn’t lie,” he purred and pulled his fingers from her underwear.

  He placed a hand on her shoulder, adding pressure, turning her back into his embrace. They were inches apart, his hands now resting on the counter on either side of her hips as she looked up at him.

  “Tell me.” His gaze raked her face, a faint glimmer of concern surfacing in the deep irises.

  She gripped his belt and began yanking it undone. This wasn’t the time or place for this conversation. This time, this place, was reserved for one thing—the mile high club, and she was suddenly in a hurry to be a fully fledged member. “We can talk about it later.”

  “Tell me, Gabi.”

  She tugged at his buckle and undid the clasp of his jeans. “Not now.” She ignored the way he puffed out his chest in defiance, and lowered his zipper. “I want you.” More than anything, she wanted him to take away her doubt and for even a few fleeting moments, make her feel like there was nothing to fear in the future.

  Placing her hand on the hard length of his erection through his boxers, she stroked. He leaned into her, resting his forehead against hers.

  “You will tell me,” he groaned.

  She continued to stroke, longer, harder, and couldn’t help the wicked grin that pulled at her lips when his eyes closed in pleasure.

  “Maybe…not right…now,” he continued and finished with a soft moan. “But you will…tell me, Gabi.”

  Gripping the waist of his jeans and boxers, she yanked at the material until they rested mid thigh. His thick cock fell forward and she palmed it in her hand, rubbing her thumb over the sensitive head.

  “Jesus,” he hissed and opened his eyes. “Do that again.”

  She complied, rubbing the pad of her thumb over the fluid beading his slit.

  “Damn, angel. Your fingers have a direct line to heaven.”

  His lips smashed hard against hers and she gasped into his mouth. He ground into her, pushing his erection against her pubic bone. She continued to play with him, stroking over his head and down his shaft. Their tongues tangled and teeth collided while he lifted her onto the counter.

  “Shit, wait.” He placed her back on her feet and yanked his shirt over his head. “Here, sit on this.” He laid his shirt on the counter and picked her up to sit on it. Damn, he was so dreamy. How could a man, tattooed and rife with emotional scars be so… perfect for her? His tenderness knew no bounds.

  She stared up at him, her ass hovering on the edge of the counter with barely enough room to rest her weight. Did it matter? Hell no. He gripped her hip with one hand and held her tight with his other arm around her waist.

  “Can you reach my pocket?” he panted into her mouth, nipping her lips.

  She inched back, confused.

  “Front left.” He kissed her ear, her jaw, her neck. “Condom.”

  Oh. She searched for his pocket, eager and impatient. Her blood was rushing through her veins, her pussy now uncomfortably soaked and waiting to be filled. The foil packet crinkled against her fingertips and she pulled it out in a rush.

  He continued to lavish her in kisses, his hand moving from her ass, over her waist, to pull down the front of her sundress and the cups of her bra. The first tweak of her nipple caused her to suck in a breath, and the condom almost fell from her fingers. Pleasure skittered from her chest, pinging through every limb, coalescing with the deep throb of lust in her core.

  “I want you to put it on me,” he whispered. “Hurry, Gabi. I want inside you so fucking bad.”

  She stifled a whimper and ripped the condom packet apart. Her fingers shook as she threw the wrapper to the floor and worked the protection over his length. His erection jerked in her hold, pulsing with each stroke of her hand. As soon as she reached the bottom of his shaft, he had her dress lifted up to her waist and her panties pulled down to her ankles.

  “Oh, fuck me. You seriously have the most gorgeous pussy I’ve ever seen.”

  “Shhhhh.” Gabi slapped a hand over his mouth. It would be hard enough walking back to their seats if they had silent sex, but when Blake made no effort to be quiet, she was going to die of humiliation.

  “What?” he whispered. “It’s true.” He grasped his shaft in his hand and worked the head of his cock up
and down her slit. “Mmm, so damn good.”

  He raised her thigh, holding her open, and then in one swift thrust he plunged inside her, filling her to the hilt. She opened her mouth to scream, to whimper, to moan, and he slammed his mouth against hers, numbing the sound, heightening the pleasure with a swipe of his tongue.

  She rocked into him with tiny movements of her hips and ran her hands over his chest his. His skin was smooth under her fingertips, his muscles contorting with each slam of his pelvis. A tingle started to vibrate in the low of her belly, growing with each passing second. She could feel the fast approach of climax in her nipples, her stomach, her pussy. Every part of her was alive for him, thrumming and vibrating with the delicious friction of his cock.

  He growled into her mouth and increased his tempo. “Gabi?”

  “Yes… I’m close.”

  His hand found her breast, tweaking and rubbing her sensitive nipple.

  “I’m gonna have to stop.”

  She shook her head, her hand snaking between them to find her clit. She was so close, her orgasm within reach. Filtering out the rest of the world, she pulled back and focused on the pleasure. Blake’s brow was wrinkled with strain, his hand still holding her thigh, keeping her open so she could see where they joined. The condom glistened with her juices, his balls slapping against the low of her ass.

  “Oh, god, I’m coming.” She bit her lip to hold in her scream, her body convulsing with spasm after spasm of climax.

  Blake moaned long and low, following her over. His hips pistoned, pumping harder, becoming wild out of rhythm jerks. The tiny room filled with the noise of flesh slapping against flesh. Slowly, the cloud of pleasure began to waver, and she loosened her tight grip on him. They came down from the high together, their movements stilling as the peak of bliss faded.

  “You,” he panted into her neck, “rock.”

  Placing her arms around his back she held him close, not wanting to let go. They were made for each other. Her heart knew it as much as her soul. “You aren’t too bad yourself,” she replied and felt the heat of his breath against her shoulder as he silently chuckled.