Wanderlust

by Roni Loren

  She tamped down the intruding thoughts and focused on the sensations radiating through her and the delicious man beneath her. Her fingertips explored his chest, feeling the tight muscles bunch and release in rhythm. A sheen of sweat dampened his skin, and she wished she could slow her own pace to enjoy the view a little longer, but her hips now moved on their own volition. The pressure in her own core bloomed again—fresh and new and exciting—despite having climaxed only moments before.

  He lifted his hand and put his finger under her chin, tilting her face upward. His eyes caught hers again, consuming her with the fire blazing behind them. “Don’t hide, beautiful. Let me watch you let go.”

  Her hands gripped the spindles of her headboard as she leaned forward and tried to keep from falling to pieces. She held on as long as she could and then cried out as her second orgasm rocketed through her. His groan quickly joined hers as they crested the wave of release together—bonded in the most primal way possible. She was in so much trouble.

  After their breathing slowed, they lay exhausted and dewy with sweat, spooning in the darkness of her bedroom. Lex trailed his fingers along her arm, sending shivers through her sapped nervous system. “So how did such a nice girl learn how to drive a guy out of his freaking mind?”

  She smiled. “I think I’m learning as I go. You seem to inspire that side of me.”

  “Why do you think that is?” he whispered, brushing his lips against the back of her neck.

  She didn’t want to ponder the answer to that question. “I’m not sure. Maybe I just needed the right bad boy in my bed.”

  “Mmm, maybe. I definitely still have a whole to-do list of evil activities to sully your purity with. There’s public sex, bondage, candle wax, piercings, anal . . .”

  She made a strangled sound when he ran a hand over her backside on that last part. Thank god for the dark because she knew she had to be in a full-body blush.

  He chuckled against her skin. “Damn, I wish I could see your face. Your whole body just went taut. Are you flushed, Ms. Bordelon?”

  She pressed her face into the pillow. “Shut up.”

  He laughed again. “Aw, come on. I was just screwing with you. You know I’m not going to ask you to do any of that.”

  The dismissive tone had her stiffening for a different reason. She turned in his hold to face him. “Why?”

  His brows knitted. “You know why.”

  “Because you’ve never done any of those things with other girls?”

  A frown appeared, his look holding warning. “Not a conversation we should have.”

  She’d made the comment before thinking, but his reaction sent annoyance creeping through her. “And why is that?”

  He blew out a loud breath. “Because talking about previous partners with the person you’re currently sleeping with is never a good idea.”

  She knew he was right, but she couldn’t help her curiosity. Seeing all those girls lined up outside that club the other night had made her roll her eyes. And now that she knew they were lining up to throw themselves at the guy who was lying naked next to her, she couldn’t help but be irritated.

  She bit the inside of her cheek, trying to stop herself from continuing the conversation, but it didn’t work. Her editing button had switched off. “Lex, I’m not stupid. I know how it is. You get your pick every night of the prettiest girls your current city has to offer. I’m sure you’ve done it all. It’s fine, whatever. I was curious, that’s all.”

  He groaned. “What do you want me to say, Aubrey? That I’ve screwed around a lot? I’m not going to lie and say I’m an altar boy. If you’re looking for that guy, you’re searching in the wrong place.”

  Aubrey rolled onto her stomach and buried her face in the sheets, deflating. The conversation was stupid, and she knew it. She was the one who had pointed out what their situation was—a temporary hook-up. He wasn’t her husband or her boyfriend. They weren’t . . . anything, really. If he wanted to nail the entire herd of women outside his concerts, who was she to say anything about it? She knew what she’d signed up for when she jumped in bed with him in the first place. So why did it all of a sudden aggravate her so much?

  “Never mind. I get it. We’re both having a swim outside of our normal pond. You’re messing with a good girl, and I’m walking on the wild side. Whatever.” She turned her back to him.

  He sighed. “It’s not like that. The only reason I’m not treating you like those other girls is because you’re nothing like them.”

  “You don’t know anything about me.”

  He locked his arm around her waist when she tried to scoot further away. “Oh, yeah? Well, I know you’re not here with me so you can brag to your friends about how you bedded Lex Logan. I know that you don’t give a shit how much money I have in the bank or what I can do for your acting/singing/modeling/whatever career. And I know you’re not going to try to impress me with the look-how-outrageously-kinky-I-can-get game just to get my attention. If we get kinky, it will because you want to explore and have fun, not because you’re trying to prove something to me.”

  She closed her eyes, the resigned bitterness in his voice tugging at her. She knew guys like him used women, but she’d never considered that the street went both ways. “Is that how it usually is?”

  “No,” he said, sounding tired all of a sudden. “That’s how it always is. I love music and being onstage. I wouldn’t give it up for anything. But at the end of the day, I’m a commodity—to my manager, the record company, the groupies—hell, even to my own father. That’s my life. Which is why you’re so goddamned dangerous.”

  That was the last thing she expected him to say. “I’m dangerous. How’s that?”

  “Because when I’m with you, I start to wish I was a different guy with a different life. One who could have a girl like you and not fuck it all up.” His voice was barely audible, but she heard his statement louder than any other words he’d ever said.

  A fist-size lump lodged in her throat. “Lex.”

  His hand glided from her arm to her bare stomach. “I wish I was a guy who could stick around. I could love a girl like you.”

  The confession had her insides twisting and knotting. This was supposed to be a fling. Why was he saying these things to her? She didn’t need him screwing with her emotions and her head like this. It wasn’t fair to make her . . . feel. “But you won’t—stick around.”

  “I can’t,” he said, pulling her fully against him. “It’s not who I am or who I’ll ever be.”

  She let out a long breath, settling into his hold and into reality. “I know. That’s why I’d never ask you to stay.”

  His dad had lost his entire career by getting trapped in a domestic life. Even if she let herself believe that whatever was between her and Lex was different or special. There was no way Lex was ever going to let grass grow under his feet long enough to be in a relationship with anyone.

  “Want me to leave?” he whispered.

  “Only if you want to go.”

  “I don’t. That probably makes me an asshole.”

  “Go to sleep, Lex. I know there’s no happily-ever-after at the end of this story. Let’s just enjoy these last few days for what they are.”

  He fell asleep long before she did.

  Chapter 12

  The world started to spin. Aubrey heard the screeching of the tires as they tried to gain traction on the slick ground. Screams—her own, her sister’s, Gray’s—rang out in a horrible chorus.

  “Watch out.”

  “Hold on.”

  “Oh, god.”

  Aubrey couldn’t tell who had said what. Her eyes remained glued to the blurred scene flying past the window of the car. Then, a crunching sound and a jolt that threw her in the opposite direction. Pain shot through her. She yelled her sister’s name. Her whole body began to shake.

  “Aubrey
.” The urgent voice seemed to come from far away. More shaking. “Wake up.”

  Aubrey flung her arm out blindly, grappling against bare skin. “Help her,” she demanded. “Help her! She’s hurt!”

  “No one’s hurt, baby. Wake up,” the voice said. “You’re dreaming.”

  She knew the voice. But it didn’t belong here. Her mind seemed to be fighting to break loose of whatever reality had a hold on it. Who was here? She pushed past the haze in her mind and forced her eyes open. Lex was leaning over her, eyes wide with concern.

  “Hey, you’re okay.” He brushed her hair away from her damp face. “It’s not real, just a nightmare.”

  She rubbed her eyes with the heels of her hands, trying to drive the images and sounds from her head. Her heart thudded wildly beneath her ribs, and cold sweat covered her skin. She dropped her hands from her face and turned to Lex, whose brow remained creased with worry. “I’m sorry I woke you up.”

  He shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. Are you all right? You were talking.”

  “It was a nightmare. I get them sometimes about the accident.” She used to get them all the time when it’d first happened, but she hadn’t had one in forever. “What was I saying?”

  “‘Watch out’ at first. Then you started screaming and thrashing around.”

  She frowned and closed her eyes again to try to recall the details of the dream, but everything except the lingering feeling of terror had skittered back into the dark corners of her brain. She shook her head. “Weird. I haven’t had one in a long time. I don’t even remember most of that night. I never understood how I could dream about it.”

  Lex propped himself up on an elbow, eyeing her thoughtfully. “Maybe those pictures from the other night triggered something. Or maybe your ex coming back sparked it. I had a motorcycle crash when I was a teenager. I wasn’t badly hurt but it knocked me out, and I didn’t remember anything. Then one day a Harley rolled by on the road, and all these flashes of that day came back to me. Your mind might be trying to grab those memories now.”

  She groaned and scooted into a sitting position, keeping the sheet wrapped around her. “I’m not sure if I want to recover them. Ignorance can be healthy, right?”

  He shrugged. “If you say so. I’d rather purge all that stuff out like an exorcism.”

  “Linda Blair style?”

  “Well, there’s no pea soup or head spinning involved, but I do dump any bad shit I’m dealing with onto the page for songs. If I hadn’t had that outlet growing up, I’d probably be in a padded room or jail.”

  “That bad?”

  He rolled onto his back and tucked the pillows up higher under his head. “It was kind of like living in a house that had land mines tucked beneath the floorboards. I never knew what would set my dad off. One wrong step, word, or look and a calm moment could flip into a rage fest. When he was coming down off a high, he was depressed. When he was loaded, the coke made him fucking mean. And he had strong morals about not hitting a woman, but had no such rules for his ‘good-for-nothing’ kid. I was the symbol of everything that was wrong in his life, and he didn’t let me forget that.” He stared up at the ceiling, his jaw set. “So I’d take his shit and then go in my room, turn my headphones onto blast, and write the angriest, most angst-ridden songs I could. One of those early ones made it onto our first album—‘Ugly Like You.’ And I promise he has no clue that it’s about him even though everyone else does. He’s that goddamned dense. In interviews, you’d think my whole career is all because of him and the sacrifices he’s made.”

  She frowned down at him, remembering the thoughtless comment she’d made that first night about his dad helping him get into the business. “God, Lex. How’d you manage to get out from under all of that?”

  “I wrote. I joined a band. And I got bigger and stronger than he was so that he was too smart to take a swing at me anymore. It was do that or kill the son of a bitch, and even back then I knew I was too pretty for jail.” He turned his head and gave her a ghost of a smile.

  She recognized his attempt to deflect the conversation and let him get away with it. She was surprised he’d shared as much as he had. Loosening her hold on the sheet, she reached out and traced the intricate design snaking up his arm. She’d never been into tattoos on a guy before, but Lex was changing her mind. His body was a work of art. “Definitely too pretty.”

  He watched her fingers climb over his ink, his gaze heating. “Yeah? You think so, reporter girl?”

  Her lips curved upward as she met his gaze. “No, not pretty. I think you’re beautiful. From the beginning, I couldn’t even be in the same room with you without thinking very, very unprofessional thoughts. And you knew that, didn’t you? It’s why you tortured me that night in the strip club.”

  His chuckle was low and throaty. “I did that striptease because it let me get close to you. I got to touch you. I wanted you from the moment I pulled you onstage that first night. But now I need to know. What exactly were those thoughts, Ms. Bordelon? What was running through that pretty head when I was dancing for you? I’m gonna need some details.”

  She looked at him from beneath her lashes, feeling daring. “How about I show you instead?”

  “Mmm, even better.”

  She let her gaze travel down from his face to his bare torso then to the spot below his navel, where his own half of the sheet had started to tent in anticipation. She drew her teeth across her bottom lip. The urge to taste his skin, to run her tongue along the edges of that deep V-cut of his pelvis as overwhelming as that night at the strip club. She tucked her knees underneath her and scooted closer to Lex.

  “It took all of my restraint that night not to reach for you. Open the button of your pants . . .” She traced her fingers along his stomach, feeling chill bumps rise beneath her touch, and then moved the sheet the rest of the way down. Even in the minimal light, his gorgeous cock was a sight to relish—pure, masculine beauty, proud with arousal. Her tongue pressed to the center of her lip. “I wanted to taste you, Lex. Lick those tattoos and trace the dips and valleys of your chest and stomach. I wanted the flavor of your skin against my tongue and wanted to feel grow hard in my mouth.”

  “Christ,” he ground out, his eyes locked on her descent.

  She tucked one of her knees in between his and glanced up his body. The hungry look on his face was enough to send a deep throbbing between her thighs. She kept her eyes locked on his and then slowly lowered her head and dragged her tongue along the line of his pelvis—first on the right side then the left, tasting the salt of his skin, feeling the ripple of his tensing muscles beneath.

  “Fuck,” he said, his voice filled with grit. “If you’re trying to get me back for torturing you, it’s totally working.”

  She smiled and adjusted her assault, pressing open-mouthed kisses along his abs and navel, taking her time and nuzzling along the dark line of hair that led downward, and then dipping even lower to offer teasing licks to the base of his cock and his balls. That last move made his knees draw up and his head loll back with a grunt.

  “Jesus, baby. If this was what you were picturing that night, I’m so very sorry I let you walk away. God, I’m a stupid man.”

  “That’s not all I was imagining.” She raised her head a bit, caught his eye again, and then lowered her mouth. Her lips stretched around the head of his cock, causing her sex to clench in unison, and then she glided down, taking him fully while still holding the eye contact. The salt-laced tang of his skin, his scent, every bit of him filled her senses and made everything spark inside her. She let her eyes fall shut and swirled her tongue around his length, earning a rasping groan from him.

  “Yes, damn, just like that. You’re so perfect. So hot.” He laced his fingers in her hair and leaned against the headboard, giving himself over to the pleasure she offered. She was in no hurry. Though some women saw blow jobs as a favor, she’d always enjo
yed that act of sensual worship, the feminine power of knowing what she could do to a man—even one as cool and in control as Lex.

  She caressed him with her hands and her mouth, savoring each sound he made, alternating between bringing him to the edge and then slowing down again. She loved the feel of his body coiling and relaxing under her hands with each stroke of her tongue, each touch. He arched and tightened his grip against her scalp but let her keep control, apparently not wanting to reach the finish line too soon, either.

  “Hey,” he murmured after a few minutes.

  She brushed her hair from her face and looked up at him, a little surprised he’d halted her.

  “Come ’ere,” he said softly. He circled his hand around her wrist and guided her on top of him.

  She gazed down at him. “Something wrong?”

  He tucked a stray hair behind her ear then ran his thumb over her lips. “Not at all. You’ve got the sexiest fucking mouth. I could lose myself in what you were doing. But that’s not what I want right now.”

  “Oh. Then tell me what you want,” she said, repeating the words he had used on her that day in Nick’s office.

  He smiled and ran his palm along the length of her back, his eyes flickering with tenderness. “I want to be face to face while I’m inside you, make love to you.”

  His tone caused her lungs to squeeze tight, but she tried to cover it. “I thought you were all about the fucking?”

  His hands gripped her hips and rolled her sideways until he was perched above her. He bent his head next to hers and peppered light kisses along the curve of her neck, murmuring against her skin. “Maybe you make me want to try something new.”

  She didn’t know how to respond to that, how to even process the notion.

  He donned protection and then guided her legs around his waist. All of his movements were sure but gentle, reverent—like he was memorizing every nuance between seconds, like there was a need to preserve this moment. And maybe there was. Aubrey had the disconcerting sense that this would be the first and last time he’d touch her this way.