by Cari Quinn
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
“Can I talk to Li?” Nick asked Mrs. Ronson, realizing she’d gone quiet during his conference with the driver.
“You didn’t tell me about your show,” Mrs. Ronson reminded him. “You know I hate finding out the details from those music rags.”
He had to smile. His mother-in-law was a certified music junkie, which probably explained where his wife had gotten her nose for the business. He ran through the highlights for her, but as soon as he finished, she filled the silence with more questions.
How was Ricki?
Was she going to be coming home with him?
Could they see her too while they were home?
Guilt struck him for about the fiftieth time that night. Fuck, he’d forgotten to say goodbye to his sister. He’d skipped the goodbyes to his band too, but they were different. They wouldn’t care. Ricki was sensitive, and he wasn’t sure where she was spending the holiday. She must have a suite somewhere in the hotel with the rest of Warning Sign, but Nick probably wouldn’t be taking Donovan’s jet back with her in the morning.
Assuming he could find a way out of this damn city before he lost his mind.
Exhaling, he pressed his fingers into his forehead. He’d call Ricki once he got off the phone with Mrs. Ronson. Apologize, invite her over to the house. Make sure she was okay and wouldn’t be alone, the way he’d spent too many other holidays.
Not this one.
“She was amazing. She always is. Oblivion did an encore with Warning Sign, and we raised the fucking roof.” He disembarked from the SUV the second it reached the hotel. He tipped a hand at the driver and rushed inside, avoiding eye contact with anyone.
Belatedly realizing the curse word he’d uttered to Lila’s mother, he cleared his throat. “Pardon me.”
Mrs. Ronson only laughed. “I’d expect nothing less. You’re going to make sure that girl is here tomorrow. I want to fatten her up some. She’s too skinny, just like her brother.”
“Our metabolism,” he said as he always did as he stepped into the church-silent hotel. None of the members of Oblivion or Warning Sign or the assorted crew had made it over there yet, and Nick could’ve sworn he felt the stares of the clerk burning through his beat-up leather jacket as he headed for the elevator.
The old him would’ve lifted a middle finger over his shoulder as he walked. The new one only flipped her off in his mind.
Lila would be proud.
Just when he was about to ask about his wife—again—Mrs. Ronson made clucking noises. “Oh, sounds like one of the girls is waking up. Let me just grab her before the rest of the house is disturbed.”
“It’s Charlie. She always wakes up at this time. Just let her cry it out. She has to learn we won’t always be there to pick her up.”
Even as he said the words, he frowned. Except Li was. Charlie barely got out a cry before Lila went flying down the hall to scoop her up. Every damn time.
“Where’s Li?” he demanded as Mrs. Ronson apologized and clicked off.
His mother-in-law had actually just hung up on him.
He stared at his phone. Something seriously fishy was going on. And he was about to find out what.
Chapter 4
“You better be ready, little girl. I heard him tell the driver to hit the gas. I’d bet good money that boy was aiming straight for his room to pick up his bags so he could get his behind home to his family.”
In the near darkness of Nick’s hotel suite, Lila tugged at the strap of her lacy corset. She’d paired it with the garter belt, fishnets, and stiletto heels.
Unfortunately, she hadn’t been feeling the crotchless panties. Margo would probably toss her out of the sex kitten of the month club.
Just in case she managed to pull off her insane plan, Lila turned at an angle in front of the mirror and snapped a picture. The only illumination came from the contraband mini tree festooned in multicolor lights that she’d hauled in to the suite, but that was okay. These photos were basically just proof that she’d gone through with the plan. Her best friend so didn’t need to see her modeling the latest fashions in butt floss.
Serious butt floss.
Lila shivered. The room was drafty, and it wasn’t a big surprise that she was cold since she was the next thing to naked. This lace thing she had on was no joke. Ribbons laddered up the sides, and the rest was the sheerest red gauzy fabric imaginable. Her panties barely counted as actual lingerie, they were so tiny.
Was it wrong she was getting turned on looking at herself in the mirror? Not because she thought she seemed particularly hot—her parts weren’t the gender that rocked her boat—but imagining Nick’s reaction…
God, she hoped he reacted well. She truly didn’t know what he would do. She’d bungled this whole set-up so badly, but once she’d set the course in motion, she had to follow-through.
That was who she was—a planner and an achiever. Hopefully, tonight she would also be a kinky wife.
A kinky wife with surprisingly bouncy, currently strawberry-blond hair. At least the beauty gods had been with her on this doomed mission. Smoky eyes were still above her paygrade, but she was rolling with it.
“I’m ready.” Lila exhaled and stopped talking long enough to take another quick picture. “I hope. Is this a stupid idea?”
“You’ve had worse.”
“Gee, thanks, Mom.” But it made her grin and toss back her hair. She had to sell this outfit—hell, this whole persona—so she needed to stop worrying.
What was done was done. If she had any luck at all, she’d be done soon too. By Nick.
Hard and fast to start with would be just fine.
“He loves you and those girls so much, Leelee.”
“I know.” Lila swallowed hard. “I hurt him by setting up this whole thing and not just telling him what I had in mind. But I wanted to surprise him. It’s been so long since we’ve just had a night for ourselves. As much as we adore the girls, we have to make sure we’re okay too.”
“You certainly do. I understand that all too well. There’s nothing wrong with wanting to seduce your husband.”
Lila tipped back her head as her face and neck heated. Sure, why not blush while wearing a get-up like this? Totally fit.
“We need the time together,” she murmured, and left it at that.
She and her parents had always been very close, and after seeing the relationships between the other band members and their parents, she was exceptionally grateful for that fact.
Even so, she had her boundaries, but her mother understood what tonight was about. It didn’t have to do only with sex, but good sex was a conduit to all the rest.
More than anything, she wanted to fall asleep in her husband’s arms the way she used to. She missed him so much.
“You do. Fred and I had to fight to carve out a spare minute for each other with just you, so I can’t imagine what it’s like to have two at once. But don’t you worry. Your girls are just fine and we’ll be waiting for you both when you get back.”
“Thank you.” Lila blinked away the mist in her eyes. “I know coming out to the west coast on short notice disrupted your plans with Daddy—”
“Nothing is more important than our babies. These two beautiful little rugrats, and you and Nicholas too.”
She wasn’t going to cry before she had to pretend to be sexy. Simply was not. “Thank you,” she whispered again instead of everything else in her heart. She hoped her mother understood. “We’ll see you early tomorrow. Make sure Charlie has her stuffed dog in bed with her. The black one, with the plaid jacket?”
“Yes, dear. She made sure she brought Mr. Winkles to bed with her.”
“And Avery, she takes her doll Wetsy to bed.” Stupid name, but Avery called her Wetsy so Lila had picked it up too.
“Wetsy is tucked in beside her, no worries. Now stop thinking about those babies and go make more.”
Lila had to laugh. “Mom, I told you that’s not—”
Falling s
ilent, she cast a quick look at the door. The rest of the band hadn’t returned yet, so she had a feeling the heavy footsteps coming down the hall belonged to Nick.
Shit, she wasn’t even in position yet.
“Gotta go,” she said, creeping stealthily to the bed. “See you tomorrow. Call me if you need anything. Love you. We won’t be too late. Bye.”
She tossed aside her phone on the nightstand and belly-flopped onto the mattress. No time for grace now. Also no time to take off her shoes. Eh, screw it, not her bedding.
Right then, she had bigger priorities. Like plumping up her boobs and adjusting the floss between her cheeks.
So much adjusting and fiddling. She was breathing hard and not from desire.
Being sexy was damn difficult.
Once she was in position on her stomach, she propped her head on her folded arm and faced the window opposite the door. Ugh, her hair wasn’t strewn across the pillow, just sort of bunched near her head.
The key card was slammed into the lock. Curses. More slamming. She fussed with her hair while her heart beat out of control and her skin prickled with nerves. He swore again and finally turned the handle, pausing in the doorway.
At the last second, she twined her ankles together in the seductive pose she’d practiced. Almost forgot. It was taking everything she possessed to concentrate and swallow the panic giggles that wanted to erupt at Nick’s frustration.
He was so adorably impatient. And evidently, he was on the phone.
“Yeah, I know I split early. I’m actually heading out entirely. I’m sorry I missed you. Yes. You know I wanted to spend time with you tonight. That was the only good thing about this whole messed up situation.” He paused. “No kidding. We’re always going in opposite directions, and you know how much you matter to me.”
Lila bit her lip. Okay, he was talking to a friend. In a second, he’d say a name, and she’d stop having horrible flashbacks to her first husband and the secret conversations he’d had that weren’t that secret at all.
No wonder she’d been so crazed to make this special night with Nick happen. How could she be anything but frantic when distance grew between them, after the shitshow that had been her first marriage? Who could blame her?
Still as she could be, barely breathing, she waited for Nick to say a name to ease her baseless fears. They were always baseless with Nick. He was an honest, trustworthy guy, which was why she’d allowed herself to fall for him in the first place. He couldn’t have been less like Martin and still been a man.
But instead of clearing it up, he made it worse. So much worse.
“Christ, yeah, but there was this fan earlier, and she was all over me, and I just can’t deal. I’m over all of this. Hang on.” He stopped talking, and Lila tensed.
Jig’s up, fake bad girl.
“What the fuck are you doing in here? Didn’t you get the message earlier?” Lila’s eyes widened as he stomped closer to where she was stretched out, but she didn’t look his way. For another instant, her hair and the curve of her body would be her shield. “I’m happily fucking married and I don’t care if you know Shibari or your tongue is like a salamander, I’m not—” He gripped her shoulder and froze, probably since she’d let out a startled mewl that resembled a drowned cat.
“I’ll call you back,” he said into the phone, throwing it aside with enough force that Lila was pretty sure it bounced off the wall. She was about to admonish him when she remembered her role.
Submissive naughty fan, right. I am so screwed.
Unsure what to do, she didn’t move as he climbed on the bed and straddled her hips. He fisted a hand in her hair and lifted her head off the pillow, his gaze connecting with hers electrically in the near-darkness.
“What the fuck, Li?” Even as he asked the question, his hold on her hair gentled. His tone did not. If anything, it turned rougher as he let his gaze skip down her body. “What the hell are you wearing?”
The side of her that had little to no confidence in her body or her sexuality yearned to grab a blanket. The other, braver side of her summoned the nerve to roll onto her back, nearly displacing him from his position on top of her, and leaned up on her elbows. Pursing her lips, she shook back her hair.
That had to look sexy-ish, right?
Just as she was about to go for broke and push out her breasts, he reared forward.
“Goddamn you. I missed you all night. I was coming home to you.” He clutched her hair in his hands, tilting her head up to his.
But she couldn’t leave amazing enough alone.
“Who was she?” Her voice was barely a whisper.
His jaw clenched audibly, and his mouth hovered over hers. So close she could practically taste the spearmint from the gum he always chewed during shows. “Who?”
“The fan. The one on the phone.” She hated that she needed the reassurance, but she did. “Anyone who got to be close to you while I was here waiting for you to find me.”
“I was talking to Ricki.”
His sister. Of course. Another pointless fear, knocked over like a pin by a ball.
Now just one remained.
“And the concert?” The words trembled on her tongue. “What did she do?”
He slid his gaze from her. “Li—”
“No.” When his focus snapped back to her face, she ran her hand under his sweat-soaked T-shirt to where his skin burned as hot as a flame. “What did she say to you? If you don’t tell me, I’ll imagine it and it’ll be worse.”
He clenched his jaw again, the war he was fighting in his head plain on his face. “The usual shit. That she would do everything my wife wouldn’t do.”
Lila scraped her nails over his stomach, and he hissed out a breath. She slid out from under him to rise on her knees, then she licked his throat, tasting the tang of his skin with the same relish she would’ve sampled the most exquisite wine.
In the past, she’d never understood the appeal of a man fresh from the stage. All edgy and wound up and damp with perspiration.
With this man, everything was different. Imagining him up there shredding the strings, playing for thousands, soaking through the shirt that clung to his lean muscles did things to her she couldn’t explain.
He was hers. Even all the dark, dirty parts. Especially those.
“She’s wrong,” she murmured, flicking her tongue over the pulse in his neck. Her nails sank into the taut skin of his abdomen. “There’s nothing I won’t do for you.” She eased back and met his glowing golden eyes in the low light from the tree. “Nothing I won’t let you do to me.”
“Jesus, Li,” he rasped. “What is this?”
Saying nothing, she went down to her belly in front of him, stretching her legs out behind her and crossing them at the ankle. From his exhalation, he was looking, and he didn’t have a problem with her attire.
She undid the button and zipper on his jeans and he sucked in air like he couldn’t get enough. “I need a shower. I just got offstage, baby.”
His protests died as she peeled down his boxers and took him into her mouth, not wasting any time on seduction. That wasn’t what this moment required. They both needed proof that the connection they had was as strong as ever.
Stronger.
He drove his fingers into her hair and tipped back her head so that he could watch. So he could see every slip and slide of her lips and tongue as she worked him, as slowly as the hunger building inside her allowed. When she used her teeth, just the slightest edge of them, he tightened his grip on her. As she took him farther, past her own boundaries, his eyes slitted and the muscles in his thigh braced against her arm.
Still, he didn’t thrust. Didn’t do anything to show how turned on he was other than growing almost imperceptibly harder in her mouth.
In her throat.
He was holding back, trying not to hurt her. And that simply wasn’t acceptable.
She eased him out until just the swollen head remained between her lips. Then she took him back inside, s
o deeply that she couldn’t help gagging a little. Her eyes watered and he shut his, dropping his head back so that the cords of his neck stood out in sharp relief. Red, green, yellow, and blue lights flashed over his skin, highlighting the stark urgency he wore as he threaded his fingers through her hair, cupping the base of her neck. Holding her in place while he started to thrust, his hips snapping forward and back in an erotic dance that made her squirm and press her thighs together.
But there was no satisfying the ache. Not yet. This was all about him.
Blinking away the water in her eyes, she redoubled her efforts, adding in a little secret weapon. She reached between his legs to palm his balls, squeezing with the pressure she knew would shove him that much closer to the point of no return. When he even withstood that, she pressed firmly on that one spot that virtually no man could resist, unless they had a will of steel.
The spot he’d showed her. Now, she used it without mercy.
“Evil woman,” he gritted out, exerting his own form of evil by dragging her up and down his cock until her face pressed dangerously close to his groin.
He knew her limits as well as she did, and for that moment, he was complicit in shoving her past them. To that place where her vision blurred and her breathing shorted out and her head pounded with a mixture of panic and blind lust.
His hold on her hair grew punishing. Painful. His hips heaved and his breathing turned choppy, and wetness smeared her cheeks. Her tears, her saliva, his pre-cum. It was rough and wild and God, she loved it so much that she fumbled behind his sac again, searching for that spot that made him lose his mind.
“I withstood that once. Not again.” His voice was thick with arousal, and blazing golden eyes gazed down into hers. “On your back. Legs open for me. Wide the fuck open.”
Any impulse she had to deny him fled under the intensity of his expression. She let go of his cock and reclined against the pillows, spreading her legs.
“What did I tell you?” he growled, shoving his jeans and boxers down even more. “Hold them open for me.”