Sweet Temptation: A Players Rockstar Romance (Players, Book 3)

by Jaine Diamond

  My tongue. My fingers. My cock, obviously.

  Bare, every time.

  I trusted her that she was on the pill and knew how to take it properly. And that she was clean. Summer wasn’t the kind of woman to fuck around with these things.

  I trusted her, period.

  I wasn’t so used to that feeling. But I didn’t have all that much time to examine it, either.

  There was too much naked Summer to examine.

  I’d seen every inch of her. Tasted every inch of her.

  And every inch of her was exquisite.

  I couldn’t even decide which position of the many we’d tried was my favorite. They were all amazing… every which way I took her, or she took me.

  Reverse cowgirl was fucking hot. Incredible view.

  Sixty-nine was erotic. And coming in her mouth at the same time she came in mine? Mind-blowing.

  Missionary was fucking intense. Seeing her face… Looking into those pale-blue eyes when she came… as her pussy squeezed and spasmed on my cock.

  There was nothing like it.

  Almost made me come without thinking.

  But I wouldn’t lose my head with her like that. I wouldn’t come inside her yet, even if she asked me to. I wasn’t gonna be the guy to push things too far, too fast, and ever have her looking back with any regrets.

  When the time was right, we’d add that to the repertoire. Me, coming deep inside her.

  I wasn’t even sure I could survive it.

  So I was just gonna go ahead and enjoy everything else in the meantime. And there was a fuck of a lot to enjoy.

  Because all other stops had been pulled.

  The filter was officially off.

  Every fucking thing I wanted to do to her, or wanted her to do to me, just fell out of my mouth. All that shit I’d been trying to convince us both of, about just being here to do a job? It went right out the fucking window the second I kissed her lips.

  And when she went down on me in that car and let me come in her mouth—and swallowed it—I was done. Completely over any idea of keeping Summer Sorensen at arm’s length.

  Fuck arm’s length.

  Ramming my cock down her throat, or up her pussy, was a hell of a lot better.

  So I decided to keep doing that instead. And doing it… as everything else just faded away.

  Thank God Summer had no shows booked for a few days.

  I barely even checked my messages. Just enough to make sure the world wasn’t on fire.

  We hadn’t even gotten fully dressed in at least forty-eight hours, much less left her bedroom for any length of time.

  Sometime on day three of our sexfest—pretty sure it was day three—she had me on a dining chair that she’d asked me to bring up to her room so she could fuck me on it. We’d already had sex on it once, yesterday, and while she rode me, we’d broken it. The back actually cracked away from the base under the pressure of our… exuberance.

  But it was still usable. For fucking.

  As long as I didn’t lean back on it too hard.

  I was sitting on it, naked, and Summer was riding me while I fed her tits to my mouth and suckled her nipples. She was naked except for the hot see-through bra I’d made her wear—the nude lace one she’d worn at Devoid’s studio the first time she dropped her dress in front of me.

  Yeah, that one.

  I’d jerked off enough imagining her in it, I figured it was time to experience it in the flesh.

  I’d stretched it down beneath her tits so it served them up to me, and I licked and sucked on her nipples as she rode me until they were fat and red. They were swollen now, as I slid my mouth over them, one, then the other, teasing. Her pussy was swollen from all the fucking as it devoured me, over and over. She was gasping out that beautiful sound she made when she was about to come, and shaking like her legs were about to give out… and then she came.

  The spasms went off like an earthquake, deep in her core, and I felt her pussy shivering all over my dick.

  “Yeah… Ronan,” she purred, clawing at my chest as I nibbled on the plump nipple in my mouth and she lost control. “Oh God, baby…”

  Fuck, she was molten hot when she came. It was a fucking nuclear meltdown. Her body shivered and jerked on mine, and I almost blew.

  I struggled to hold back my own meltdown, but it was a losing battle.

  “Summer… I’m gonna come…” I growled out, and she lifted herself off me.

  Then she dropped down on her knees in front of me, grabbed my dick, and pulled me toward her face. I went with her, sliding to the edge of the chair as she pulled me into her mouth.

  Fuck, yes…

  I bucked my hips, thrusting into her. I already knew this feeling, so fucking well… the soft, sucking heat of Summer’s mouth.

  Fucking paradise.

  I felt the volcanic rush building in me, trembling through me, and when I shot off, she slid her mouth off my dick. She licked my slit… and I came on her face.

  She let me.

  I’d never had a woman let me do that before, much less instigate it.

  I just fucking stared and groaned as she squeezed the shaft of my dick in her hand… and I shot off in hot bursts all over her lips and cheek. It was the most primal, erotic, alpha feeling I’d ever experienced.

  And watching the queen on her knees in front of me licking my come off her lips? It was so fucking hot I almost died.

  My heart wasn’t so used to this shit. If I wasn’t careful, it was gonna blow out like a tire taking a corner too damn fast.

  But I couldn’t pull myself back.

  I couldn’t put the brakes on.

  I didn’t even want to.

  I grabbed her face in my hands, leaned down and licked the rest of my come off her face with a swipe of my tongue, then kissed her. We made out like that for a good minute or so, hyperventilating as we devoured each other. I didn’t even think about it. It wasn’t some fantasy of mine to eat my own come off a woman’s face or out of her mouth… but with her, there were no limits.

  I just dove right in.

  The sex between us was raw and uncensored, naked and free. Any time I pushed some limit, she pushed right back and drove me over another line.

  What line?

  There were no lines.

  Her body and mine just kept fusing, fucking… invading one another’s without hesitation or mercy.

  And there was no end in sight.

  When we were finally so spent that we sagged against each other, gasping for breath, I pulled her up and took her to the bed. I dropped her on it, then sprawled across it with a groan.

  She laughed. “Holy fuck,” she moaned. “Do I have work to do.”

  “Huh?” I looked at her. Was that a statement or a question?

  She wasn’t falling into bed with me, just sitting on the edge, breathing heavily.

  “What’re you doing?” I asked, as she got up. I reached for her feebly, but she pulled on a robe and headed to the bathroom.

  She smiled at me from the doorway. “You are way too distracting, Ronan Sterling,” she sighed, but she was still smiling. She sounded breathless and tired, but determined. “You know I’ve got a big show at the Pandora tomorrow night. I need to work on my set list and prepare.”

  “Oh. That.”

  She laughed again. “Yeah. That.”

  “Is that still happening…?”

  “Afraid so. Go order us a meal or something, would you? I’m fucking famished.”

  “Didn’t we eat already?”

  “That was a million hours ago.”

  I sighed. “Okay.” But I didn’t get up right away. I watched her disappear into the bathroom and shut the door.

  Then I tried to remember what the fuck I was doing here.

  Oh, yeah.

  Bodyguard duty.

  I’d barely even given that a thought the last few days. We were in our cave together, safe, where nothing else mattered.

  It felt like nothing else even existed.
>
  But it did exist.

  I felt fucking drunk as I staggered out of bed. I made a mental note not to bill Brody for the last three days, because come the fuck on.

  No work had been done. I was fucking naked and glutting myself on my client’s pussy ninety-percent of the time.

  I had to look at the clock to see what time it was. And when I saw it was just after nine, I actually had to ask myself if it was nine a.m. or p.m.

  I glanced at the curtains that were shut over the windows. Too dark out to be nine a.m..

  I gathered some clothes that I found on the floor. There were a bunch of them strewn around, everything lying right where we’d shed it. Summer’s clothes were everywhere, too.

  They’d been on the floor longer than they’d been on our bodies.

  Probably needed a day to tidy up and maybe turn our attention to other things. Like making sure we had some groceries, and actually eating some more. We’d been surviving on two meals a day, too busy having sex and sleeping to bother with eating properly.

  I wondered when the cleaning lady was coming again.

  As I got dressed, I could hear the sounds of Summer’s shower and the music she had playing in the bathroom, some happy pop/dance song. Nelly Furtado. Hey, I was from Vancouver; I knew who Nelly Furtado was. I could hear Summer singing along, and when I caught my reflection in the mirror over her dresser, I was smiling.

  I looked at myself, and the smile faded.

  And I asked myself what the fuck I was doing.

  Was I falling in love?

  I wasn’t sure. After the whirlwind we’d just been through together, I couldn’t even think straight.

  I went downstairs to order us some food. Summer said she was hungry, so I’d focus on that. I’d feed her, and then she’d go to work down in her studio, getting ready for her show tomorrow night.

  She’d get lost in the zone, doing her thing.

  I’d check my messages and return calls, and maybe I’d work out or something. I’d take a much needed shower.

  Then I’d go to bed. In her bed.

  And when Summer joined me in the middle of the night, exhausted from work, I’d roll over and slide myself slowly inside her as she gasped my name in that way she did.

  I’d make love to her in the dark, and maybe I’d ask myself that question again.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Ronan

  I woke up to a text from an unknown number.

  Meet at Poco Tap & Grill. 10am

  It was signed: Fonda.

  I stared at it for a moment, trying to make sense of it.

  The only “Fonda” I could think of was Peter Fonda. As in the movie star, who famously played a biker in Easy Rider?

  Either that, or it meant Jane Fonda, which made even less sense.

  I groaned and slid out of Summer’s bed, trying not to wake her as I got up and headed downstairs.

  I searched “Poco Tap & Grill” in my map app, and as I’d expected, “Poco” meant Port Coquitlam. It was over half an hour away, if traffic was good on the highway.

  So I called Andre in to cover for me. He was working an event tonight, but he could use the extra hours. I told him to arrive at Summer’s by nine-fifteen.

  Then I took a quick shower and got dressed in “my” room—the guest room I was no longer sleeping in.

  Too bad “Fonda” hadn’t left me more time for morning sex.

  The middle-of-the-night sex last night was as hot, slow and passionate as I’d fantasized about it being, and my dick was already liking the idea of a repeat. But I shut that down. I really didn’t have time, even for a quickie, and anyway, if I kept fucking Summer around the clock like this, she was gonna get sore and start telling me to fuck off.

  I read the text again. It had to be from Piper Grayson.

  I texted him back.

  Me: See you there.

  Then I called Naveen. After we’d returned home from Hope, during a brief break in the sexfest, I’d asked him to look into Summer’s brother for me, see if there was anything there we needed to be aware of. If he had a record, any issues with the police, drug history, gang activity.

  Known affiliation with any motorcycle clubs.

  I’d told him about the Bloody Bastard I’d met at Justice’s party, but I wasn’t sure if there was gonna be anything of use there; if it was a coincidence that a biker had showed up at Summer’s brother’s party or what.

  So far, we knew Justice had no criminal record. But I’d asked Naveen to go pretty deep on the rest, so I knew it would take a while.

  “Morning update?” I asked, as soon as he picked up.

  “Nothing to report. Sorry, brother.” Even Naveen was beyond giving me static for skipping the niceties at this point. He knew I was getting impatient with this whole situation.

  Endless sex with Summer was an incredible diversion, but the reality was we still had a problem.

  Blair Sanchuk was still missing.

  Naveen had checked in with our contacts at VPD, but the police weren’t searching for him. No one had officially reported him missing yet.

  Which meant one of two things.

  One, he had no one in his life close enough to him to notice or care that he’d gone missing.

  Or two, he wasn’t really missing. We just didn’t know where the fuck he was.

  It was getting frustrating as shit.

  Not only that, but I was getting pissed about running up Brody’s tab on this. Especially when we had zero results.

  “Call in every favor you’ve got,” I told Naveen. “Whatever it takes. We need to find this guy.”

  “I’m on it.”

  I told him the where and when of my meeting this morning with the mysterious “Fonda,” presumably some kind of half-clever code name from the West Coast Kings’ VP.

  “If I don’t check back in with you in a couple of hours, I’m in an unmarked grave out behind the Kings’ clubhouse.”

  “Not funny.”

  “I’m losing my sense of humor here.”

  “Did you ever have one?”

  “Ha ha. Talk later.”

  I hung up and went to make coffee. Then I made Summer a quick breakfast in bed—a bowl of granola, since it was all I had time for—and took it up to her. She was just waking up. I knew she had a chill day planned, yoga with Carissa and then some work in her studio. Then the gig tonight.

  Hopefully we’d have time to at least fit in a quickie between studio time and her show.

  Yeah, we’d officially become a “we” in my mind.

  No one knew that yet, though. I wasn’t even sure if she knew it.

  Andre had his theories, but he could shove those right up his ass. Until I knew Summer wasn’t in danger from some loose cannon meth dealer who was out there who-the-fuck-knew-where, I wasn’t relaxing my professional lines.

  Other than the ones that let me sleep next to her every night, fuck her on a regular basis, and bring her breakfast in bed.

  We’d gotten really loose on those.

  “Where’re you going?” she asked me as she wriggled her way to sitting. She accepted the tray table I put across her with a delighted smile.

  “Just have a quick meeting,” I told her.

  “Hmm. Anything I want to know about?”

  “Probably not.”

  She gave me a look. “We’ll examine that later.”

  Not if I have anything to say about it.

  “I’ll be back in a while. Andre will be downstairs while I’m gone.”

  “Okay, babe.”

  I kissed her goodbye. She gave me another sexy smile as I tore myself away and headed out.

  I jogged downstairs and waited for Andre out in the driveway, drinking my coffee and buzzing with mounting adrenaline. Meeting with Piper Grayson was not something I wanted to do without being totally alert and on guard.

  When Andre pulled in, I let him know Summer’s schedule for the day, just in case this took longer than expected. Then I got on my bike and
rode out to the Poco Tap & Grill. It was right in Port Coquitlam, just off the Number 7 highway, amid strip malls and other restaurants. It was Saturday and the place wasn’t open until happy hour, so the parking lot was empty.

  I was gonna assume, if the Kings had chosen it as a meeting place, they were used to doing business here of some kind.

  I parked at the curb just inside the parking lot, facing the restaurant, and waited.

  Just a few minutes after I arrived, two men on motorcycles pulled in. I heard them coming before I saw them. It was definitely Piper, with his club brother, Blazer, in tow. They roared into the lot and parked on either side of my bike, backing in.

  When they got off, Blazer made slow work of checking out my ride.

  Piper walked over to me. “Looking good, Sterling. You been working out?”

  “Feel like I’ve put in a few miles lately, chasing this goddamn ghost.” I threw Blazer a look. He’d settled against my bike, resting his ass on my seat.

  He crossed his arms and looked me up and down.

  “He’s always had a soft spot for Indians,” Piper said, referring to my bike.

  I doubted that. Both Piper and Blazer rode Harleys.

  “I’m honored you guys wanted to hang,” I said dryly. “You looking to patch me into your club now?”

  “Didn’t know you wanted in,” Piper said.

  “A guy can dream.”

  “Guess you’ll have to keep dreaming,” Blazer muttered.

  “Actually, I’ve got some news for you,” Piper informed me. “We got a little intel on Blair Sanchuk from our friends over at the Sinners MC.”

  That got my attention. Right now I’d take any intel I could get—as long as it was good.

  “I thought the Sinners were your mortal enemies.”

  “Enemies is such a strong word,” Piper said, with mock offense. “And I think you misunderstand our relationship. The Sinners fuckin’ exist out of our charity.”

  “The West Coast Kings are a charitable organization now? Congrats. That’s very humanitarian of you.”

  Why?

  Why did I have to go antagonizing him when he’d just offered me information?