Dangerous Kiss (Dangerous Noise Book 1)

by Crystal Kaswell

  Can't have that.

  She hugs her chest. Her lips press together.

  She's nervous.

  But why?

  "Ethan, I… I have to show you something." She takes a deep breath and exhales slowly. "It's good."

  "It involve you taking off that dress?"

  She nods. "And my bra."

  "Then it's fucking great." The promise of her naked makes it hard to focus on whatever this surprise is.

  But I can tell this is important. I focus on her gorgeous green eyes.

  She takes another deep breath then she does away with her dress.

  She's in a matching bra and panty set. It's lacy and red. Pretty sure it's designed to drive me out of my fucking mind.

  The way it hugs her chest and hips…

  My tongue slides over my lips. She needs to be naked. She needs to be on that bed with her legs spread, screaming my name as she comes on my face.

  She exhales slowly.

  Okay, one thing at a time.

  I meet her gaze. She's still nervous but she's excited, too.

  Her cheeks flush red as she undoes her bra and lets it fall off her chest. She turns and pulls her arm away from her side.

  There, on her ribs, is a tattoo of a skeleton key. The same one I have tattooed on my chest, only with my name instead of hers.

  My name is on her body.

  Fuck.

  "Vi…" I run my fingers over the ink. "When did you—"

  "Yesterday." She turns to look at me. Her voice is needy. "Do you like it."

  "I love it."

  "Yeah?"

  "I love it more than I love my guitar."

  "Really?"

  "Not sure there are words to express how much I love it." I scoop her into my arms. "Gonna have to use my body to express how much I love it."

  She giggles as she slides her arms around my shoulders. Her legs hook around my waist.

  This is a nice hotel room—a suite with all the amenities—but right now I only care about the bed.

  It takes a dozen steps to get there. Violet squeals with glee as I lay her on her back. She looks up at me with all the trust in the world.

  There's no more nervous energy on her face.

  Just desire.

  I tug her panties to her feet then watch as they fall on the ground. I take my time dragging my fingertips up her thighs. Her skin is soft and every brush of my hands makes her tremble.

  God, I could tease her all night.

  Well, almost all night.

  I plant my body between her legs. Her skin tastes even better than it feels. And the way she groans when I nip at the flesh of her inner thighs.

  Fuck.

  Violet's hand digs into my hair. Her hips buck. "Ethan… Please…"

  I bite her inner thigh.

  She groans with an equal mix of pleasure and pain.

  I do it again, again, again. Until her thighs are shaking.

  Until I can't stand teasing her anymore.

  My mouth closes over her. She tastes so fucking good. And the way her thighs press against my ears.

  She marked her body for me.

  The thought of it spurs me on. My mouth is greedy.

  I taste every inch of her.

  Tease every inch of her.

  Then I suck on her clit until she's screaming and tugging at my hair.

  "Ethan, fuck. Oh God…" She screams my name again and again as she comes.

  That's not enough.

  I need to hear it again.

  I give her a few moments to catch her breath then I lick her.

  She groans with a delicious mix of agony and ecstasy.

  I lick Violet again and again. Her thighs are glued to my head. She screams my name.

  I don't stop until she's tugging at my hair.

  "You need to be inside me," she breathes.

  Yes, I do.

  I plant my body on top of hers. She's not patient. She reaches down to wrap her hands around my cock. That's enough to drive me out of my mind.

  She guides our bodies together.

  Fuck, she's soft. Warm. Wet.

  But this is more than physical.

  It's me and Vi.

  It's fucking everything.

  I hold her gaze as I drive into her with deep, steady strokes. She reaches up to run her fingers through my hair. Her gaze is as soft and affectionate as her touch.

  Fuck, she feels so good.

  But I can't come until she does.

  I unhook our bodies to flip Violet over. She laughs as she stumbles and falls flat on her face.

  I help her into position on her hands and knees. Her ass lifts as she spreads her knees.

  She's opening herself for me.

  Offering herself to me.

  My hands go to her hips. In one swift movement, I thrust into her. Once I've got my rhythm, I bring my hand to her clit and I stroke her.

  "Come for me, Vi," I order.

  She lets out a low, deep groan. "Fuck. Ethan…"

  I stroke her until I can feel her pulsing around me.

  Her contractions pull me deeper. I bring my hands back to her hips and I soak in the sight of her body in front of me.

  A few more thrusts and I'm there. Pleasure grabs hold of me. Everything feels so fucking good.

  I let out a deep animal groan as I come.

  Violet rocks her hips against mine. She moans louder. Deeper.

  She tugs at the soft cotton sheets.

  Every muscle in my body relaxes as pleasure spreads to my limbs. Fuck, I needed that, needed her.

  Violet collapses on the bed. She rolls over onto her side and peeks one eye open. Her lips curl into a smile.

  I lay next to her. I can't help myself. I have to kiss her.

  All of my love pours into her.

  All of her love pours into me.

  This is fucking heaven.

  Slowly, Violet blinks her eyes open. She runs her fingers through my hair.

  Her lips curl into a smile.

  "I should shower before I fall asleep," she whispers.

  "You're not sleeping until you come again."

  "Then you're racing against time." She pushes herself up. "I'm going to drop next time my face hits the pillow."

  "Guess I'll have to pin you to the wall."

  She blushes. "I guess you will." She moves to the bathroom but she lingers in the door frame.

  I shift off the bed. "I have a present for you."

  "Yeah?" Her eyes light up. She tries to play cool but fails miserably. "What could it be?" She jumps forward. "Can I see?"

  I find the present in the dresser drawer. There it is, under my pajamas.

  Fuck, it's my turn to be nervous.

  I fight a blush as I hand the small gift box over to Violet.

  She looks up at me, then her green eyes are back on the gift. She pulls the top off.

  Slowly, she pulls the key from the box.

  "I got a place in Newport Beach. It's five minutes from your office." I move closer. Close enough to take her into my arms. "A two-bedroom. That's your key."

  "My key?"

  I nod. "It's our place if you want it to be."

  "You're asking me to move in with you?"

  "Yeah."

  Her smile spreads over her cheeks. "Really?"

  "About time we stop living with our parents."

  She laughs. "What about Piper being alone?"

  "She has Mal."

  "Gonna be easier for her to get in Kit's pants without you around to stop it."

  "Not funny."

  "Then why are you smiling?" She drags her fingertips over my cheeks. "Can I paint the walls black?"

  "Do you even want to paint the walls black?"

  She shrugs, playing coy. "Can I?"

  "Black's a little much."

  "How about purple?"

  "How about I throw you against the wall and make you come?"

  "Is that a yes?"

  "You drive a hard bargain, Ms. Valentine."
/>
  She smiles.

  "I can drive a hard bargain too." I slide my hand around her hips to pull her against my erection.

  She looks up at me with a needy sigh.

  I nod. "Are you saying yes?"

  She nods. "Yes, I'd love to move in with you."

  "You can paint the walls rainbow for all I care, Vi. As long as I can come home to you every night, I don't give a fuck what color the walls are." I press my lips to hers.

  When the kiss breaks, she lets out a heavy sigh. "What was that about a hard bargain?"

  I can't help but laugh. Violet really isn't smooth.

  But that's one of the eight million things I love about her.

  I scoop her into my arms and pin her to the wall.

  I am a man of my word.

  Want More Dangerous Noise?

  Dangerous Crush, Kit and Piper’s story, will be here early 2017.

  Sign up for the Crystal Kaswell mailing list to get an exclusive Dangerous Kiss extended epilogue. You’ll also get bonus scenes from the Sinful Serenade series.

  Want to learn more about the hard-headed alpha heroes of Sinful Serenade? Miles, Drew, Tom, and Pete each have their own standalone novel. But be warned: the Sinful Serenade series is known to cause sleepless nights.

  Turn the page for an excerpt from Sing Your Heart Out.

  Sinful Serenade

  Sing Your Heart Out - Miles

  Strum Your Heart Out - Drew

  Rock Your Heart Out - Tom

  Play Your Heart Out - Pete

  Sinful Ever After – series sequel

  Sing Your Heart Out - Excerpt

  Between the throbbing house music and the dance floor full of beautiful people grinding, it's difficult to move. It's harder to think.

  I need to pee. Now. Waiting in the line snaking around the corner is not an option.

  How can there only be one bathroom downstairs? One hundred people plus one bathroom equals far too many tortured bladders.

  Kara must know where the bathroom is. Wherever she is.

  I push through the crowd, but there's no sign of my best friend.

  Someone bumps into me, her hip pressing firmly against my pelvis. Dammit, my bladder is going to explode at this rate.

  Screw upstairs being off-limits. This isn't a church. It's some up-and-coming band's Hollywood mansion. I'm not about to pee my pants respecting the sanctity of rock stars' bedrooms.

  There's a couple making out on the curving staircase. I step past them and make my way to the second floor. The sounds of music and conversation fade to a murmur. I'm tempted to hang out here until Kara is ready to go home.

  Parties are not my scene. Even my bladder hates them.

  I scan the wall, trying to figure out which of the five doors is attached to the smallest room. There. Second on the left. That must be it.

  I turn the knob and push the door open.

  Not a bathroom.

  Definitely not a bathroom.

  There are two people on a bed. The woman is on all fours. The man is kneeling behind her.

  They're naked.

  They're having sex.

  Then they're not. The grunting stops. Flesh ceases to smack together.

  The man looks at me. There's no sign of embarrassment or awkwardness on his face. He's totally unmoved.

  The woman shrieks. She scrambles off the bed, pulling a sheet over her chest. "Miles, you fucker. I told you I don't do threesomes!"

  Miles. There's something familiar about him. I try to place him but my thinking abilities are back to zero.

  He's tall, broad shoulders and chest, sculpted abs, and below his bellybutton...

  He's hard.

  He's hard and he's huge.

  Save for the condom, he's completely and utterly naked.

  A blush spreads across my cheeks. I stammer, attempting and failing to speak. I've never seen that before. Not in person. In movies, sure. Textbooks, of course.

  But never in person.

  I can't look away.

  The guy, Miles, makes eye contact. His voice is even. Calm. "You mind?"

  I take a step backwards. My foot sinks into the plush carpet. I only barely manage to hold my balance. "Excuse me. I thought this was the bathroom."

  "Next door on the left."

  I know I'm red. Beet red. "Thanks."

  I pull the door closed so I'm alone in the hallway. Next door on the left.

  I step into the bathroom, lock the door, and die of embarrassment.

  It takes twenty minutes for my cheeks to return to a normal color. I slink back to the sprawling main room and do my best to blend in amongst the partygoers.

  Every inch of the hardwood floor is packed with beautiful people talking, flirting, or making out.

  It's like the up-and-coming models, actors, and musicians are attracted to each other. They have a certain glow that mere mortals lack. And here I thought this was a normal college-students-with-a-keg-and-cheap-vodka kind of shindig.

  Kara's friend invited us. He's in a band. Are they really this popular? I can't remember their name, but then it's hard to think of anything but Miles naked on the bed, hard and ready for action.

  The lines of his hips and torso are burned into my brain.

  And his…

  Dammit, I'm not going there.

  I find the closest thing to an empty corner and try to clear my head. I fail. My mind keeps going back to that vivid mental image.

  Miles. He was unfazed, like the sex meant nothing to him. Like the girl on his bed meant nothing to him.

  The man is a player. He's not the kind of guy I need in my life. He doesn't deserve my thoughts.

  This stops. Now.

  I scan the room for some better way to stay occupied.

  It's no use. He's here. Miles is still effortless and aloof. He's still unaffected.

  The guy has already moved on from the blonde in the bedroom. He's flirting with a redhead in a designer dress and stilettos.

  She's model gorgeous with perfect hair and makeup. I'm standing here in an H&M skirt and blouse, my brown hair its usual frizzy mess, my black eyeliner doing little to enhance my plain-Jane brown eyes. Liner, mascara, and under-eye concealer are the extent of my makeup knowledge. I think I'm the only woman here who isn't contoured. Hell, I know I'm the only one wearing canvas sneakers.

  I don't belong here.

  It doesn't make sense that Miles is looking at me instead of the pretty redhead.

  But he is. His clear blue eyes are fixed on mine. They're gorgeous. I couldn't see them in the dark but out here, they're practically shining.

  Heat spreads across my chest. I'm gawking.

  He smiles, reveling in my attention.

  I press my eyelids together to temper my out-of-control blushing. It's no help. My head fills with that beautiful image of him in nothing but a condom.

  Why did I let Kara talk me into coming to this party?

  I push my way through the crowd, trying to get as far from Miles's gaze as possible. A dozen steps and I'm standing in the clean, modern kitchen. It's dark and mostly empty.

  "You're not big on respecting people's privacy, huh?"

  It's the same voice I heard upstairs. Miles.

  I could swear I've heard it before. A lot, even.

  I turn so we're face to face. Why does Miles seem so familiar? I don't go to parties. Hell, I've been MIA the last few months.

  I wouldn't forget his strong jaw, his messy brown hair, or his gorgeous blue eyes.

  Those eyes are fixed on me. He's staring at me, picking me apart.

  I don't like the scrutiny. Sure, I'm hiding. But I'm not admitting that to him.

  I clear my throat. "No, I'm not big on alcohol. Can't find anything else to drink."

  He reaches past me. His hand brushes against my shoulder as he pulls open the fridge. He nods to a row of water bottles on the middle shelf. "Help yourself."

  "Thanks."

  Miles looks so familiar. And his voice is familiar t
oo. Almost like he...

  No. That's not possible.

  There's no way this guy is the singer of alternative rock band Sinful Serenade, the guy who sings In Pieces, the guy who's been haunting my thoughts for the last three months with his breathy, tortured voice. With all the pain in his soulful eyes.

  I try to recall the song's music video but my damn brain goes right back to the image of Miles naked on the bed.

  Damn. I watched that video a thousand times. It was a massive hit. The song hit the top 40 for a week or two, a rarity for alternative rock in this day and age.

  More importantly, the video and the song went right to my soul. The singer was whispering in my ear. He promised that I wasn't alone. He promised that I wasn't the only person who had ever felt this way.

  I understood him and he understood me. We were the only two people in the world who knew how badly it hurt, losing everything that mattered.

  The man who sings In Pieces is a tortured soul. He doesn't screw one woman, wash up, then move on to flirting with lay number two.

  Kara keeps playing down how famous her friend is.

  He lives here. I know that much.

  This Miles guy seems to live here.

  Fuck.

  Why didn't Kara warn me her friend was in that band?

  Miles clears his throat. "You okay?"

  I nod a yes and attempt to hold his gaze. "Don't walk in on casual sex very often."

  "Mhmm."

  "I was looking for the bathroom."

  He laughs. "Is that the best you can do?"

  "I was." I take a half-step backwards. "Excuse me. I should go."

  His voice drops an octave. "You're not going to let me formally introduce myself?"

  "Okay." My stomach flutters. "I'm Meg Smart."

  "Miles Webb." He takes my hand with a strong grip. His eyes pass over me like he's trying to place me. "How is it we haven't met before?"

  "I don't go to parties."

  "Guess that makes this my lucky day." His hand brushes against my wrist. Then it's back at his side. He leans in a little closer, his eyes on mine. "Why'd you decide to come tonight?"

  I should be the one asking him that. "My friend convinced me I wouldn't hate it."

  "What's the verdict?"

  "I still don't like parties." I take a deep breath. "Why'd you come tonight?"

  "That was my bedroom you burst into."

  Somehow, my cheeks burn hotter.

  His eyes rake over me. "Can't blame you for looking. I'd do the same."