by Megan Lowe
“Come on.” I offer her my hand and lead her to my room. Naturally it’s done up right with a massive king-size bed, fluffy down pillows, and a comfy feather doona, all prime for watching the equally massive plasma screen I have mounted on the wall opposite the bed.
“You’re such a guy,” Knley says when she sees it.
I shrug. “Trust me, love, there’ll be a time when you thank me for being ‘such a guy,’” I whisper in her ear. Once again her breathing picks up and she shivers. “En-suite is through there.” I motion towards my awesome bathroom. His and hers sinks, rainfall showerhead with room for four people—not that I’ve tested that—full-size bathtub, and heated floors.
“Oh my God!” Knley exclaims as I get changed for bed. Ridding myself of my jeans and T-shirt, I climb in wearing just my boxer briefs. A few minutes later she emerges in just her tank top and boy leg panties.
“I think I’m in love with your bathroom,” she says as she climbs under the covers.
“Huh?” All thoughts have flown from my mind upon seeing her as she is now. Hair down and wild, her face bare of make-up, she’s absolutely stunning.
“Your bathroom, it’s amazing,” she gushes. “The heated floor is so cool! I bet in winter it’s the best thing ever!” Her cheeks are flushed, eyes bright. Seeing Knley in this light is breathtaking. I shake my head in the hopes it clears a little bit.
“Are you geeking out over my floor, McKnley Rhodes?” I ask her.
She nods. “Uh-huh. Definitely up to my high standards,” she says, giggling.
“Woman, are you giving me a hard time?”
She reaches down and grabs my rapidly hardening cock. “It appears so.”
“Well,” I say, rolling on top of her and settling between her legs. She looks up at me, her brown eyes showing how much she wants this. I grind against her and she lets out a moan. “Too bad that’s gonna have to wait. I’m beat.” I roll off her.
“Wait, what?” she asks.
“I’m beat and it’s late, so I’m going to sleep.” I lean over and give her a chaste kiss. “Night, love.”
Don’t get me wrong, I’d love to be inside Knley, but I want to wait. I want to make sure she knows that I’m serious about her, about us, and that I’m with her for her, not the girl she is everywhere else. I hear her huff in the darkness and smile to myself. A few minutes later she’s tossing and turning.
“You all right, love?” I ask.
“No, you jerk, I’m not. You got me all wound up and then refused to follow through. You’re a fucking clit tease.”
“It’s not teasing if you plan to follow through,” I say as I draw her into my arms.
“Yeah, when? Sometime soon?”
I smile against her neck, inhaling the sweet smell of her apricot shampoo. “When the time is right.” I kiss her neck.
“And that time is right now,” she says, squirming in my arms.
“No, love, it’s not.”
“What do you mean, it’s not?” She pushes away from me.
“I mean that I want you to be sure that this is what you want, that it’s not a reaction to your mum and all her bullshit.” She starts to say something, but I put a finger over her lips, the moonlight helping me locate them. “I also want to prove to you that I’m in this. I’m in it for you, okay?” She nods. “Good, now let’s get some sleep.” Once again I pull her into my arms. This time she comes easily and settles in, her head finding the gap between my neck and shoulder.
“Goodnight, Cole,” she says softly.
“Goodnight, Knley.”
Chapter Eleven
Knley
For the second day in a row I wake wrapped up in Cole Matthews. My head is buried in his neck, his arms tight around me, holding me close to his body. I snuggle closer and his arms tighten. A smile crosses my face when I think back to last night and what he said. For so long all I’ve wanted to be is Knley, and Cole is allowing me to do that. He is so much more than what I thought he was. Granted, a month ago I was still blaming him for breaking up my parents’ marriage, but I claim some kind of Stockholm syndrome brainwashing thing, courtesy of Helen Rhodes. Speaking of my mother, she’s probably having a heart attack at not being able to get in touch with me. She started messaging me not long after I left rehearsal yesterday and hasn’t let up. I can pretty much guess what her reaction will be when she finds out I’m not only with Cole physically, but emotionally as well.
As if he knows I’m thinking about him, Cole begins to stir. He stretches, pushing his erection into me.
“Good morning, handsome,” I say, my hand cupping his face, my thumb rubbing his cheek.
“Love,” he replies, giving me a lazy smile. “Did you sleep well?”
I nod. “I did. This bed is like sleeping on a cloud.” I snuggle into him more and run my hand over the head of his dick. He throws his head back and groans. I love what he said last night about proving to me that he’s in this, and I’ll let him do that, but it doesn’t mean I can’t have a little fun in the meantime. Using his momentary distraction to my advantage, I push him on his back and straddle his waist, my core resting on his length.
“I don’t know if I told you,” I say as I lean down, my hair all around us, boobs pressed against his chest and lips right next to his ear, “but I think this whole waiting thing, you proving just how much you want me,”—I grind myself against him—“is really sweet. No one’s ever gone to so much trouble for me, and I really appreciate it.” I continue to grind against him. His groans get louder, his eyes rolling back in his head.
“You’re welcome,” he manages to rasp out, hands on my hips, moving me back and forth.
“Awesome,” I say, sitting up. “I’m going to have a shower. Be a darl and get my bag from the car?” I’m laughing as I dance my way from the bed to Cole’s awesome en-suite. Seriously, it’s one of the most amazing bathrooms I’ve ever seen. Everything is shiny and modern, exactly to my taste.
The shower is a thing of wonder. The rainfall showerhead is insane! I’m in the process of debating just how far I’d go to have this kind of experience every morning, when Cole puts my bag on the bench before stripping off his boxers and moving towards the shower. I’m momentarily stunned by the effect of a naked Cole Matthews. The man is seriously cut. He’s not bulky though; streamlined is the way I’d describe it. Strong arms, broad chest with tattoos covering his sternum, neck, and back, leading to a narrow waist, those awesome V lines on his hips, powerful legs, all complimenting the monster between his legs. The man is Hung with a capital H. By this stage, he’s reached the shower door.
“Oh no, you don’t,” I say, holding on to the handle so he can’t open it. Looking from afar is one thing, but sharing a shower? There’s no way in hell I’ll be able to hold myself back. A girl can only take so much before she’s begging, and I never beg.
“Let me in, Knley,” Cole growls.
“No. This is my shower. You can wait your turn.”
“I think you’ll find this is my shower, and I want to share it with my girlfriend, so let go of the handle and let me in, love.”
“Girlfriend?” I ask. Because of the acoustics in here the awe in my voice is obvious.
“Yes, my girlfriend. Now let me in, Knley.” Without even realising I’ve done it, I let go, and Cole sweeps inside. Immediately he crowds me and pins me against the wall, the tile cool on my back. My hands rest on his biceps as he holds my hips.
“I’m your girlfriend?” I ask.
He gives me a confused look. “I thought that was kind of a given, seeing as though we’re an us. You basically gave it away when you posted on social media where you were and given the rumours surrounding us…”
I shrug. “That doesn’t always mean something.”
“Well, it does in this situation. I’m telling you I’m your boyfriend and you’re my girlfriend, got it?”
A huge smile crosses my face. “Okay.”
“I’m going to prove to you that you’re worth it,
Knley,” he promises me. “I’m going to chase your doubts away so you can be free.”
Tears sting my eyes. “Cole,” I whisper.
“Here, with us, when it’s just us, there’s no hiding, no pretending, okay?”
“Sounds like a great place.”
“It is, it’s where I want to be. All the time. How about you?”
“I wish I could be here all the time too.”
A smile breaks across Cole’s face, the pure joy almost blinding. “Good.” He leans down to quickly kiss me before pulling me under the spray of the shower. “Seeing as though you’ve been good and are finally getting where I’m coming from and where this is all going, you get a reward.”
“I do?” I ask as he spins me so my back is against his chest, his erection nestled between my arse cheeks.
“Mmmhmm,” he murmurs against my neck. He reaches for his body wash, a heady scent of menthol and musk, and proceeds to wash me, paying close attention to my nipples, kneading and tweaking them, sending a rush of moisture between my legs. Once he decides he’s paid enough attention to my breasts, one of his hands slowly moves down my body to my now aching and drenched centre. He takes his time, rubbing my lips, purposefully avoiding my clit. My hips begin to rock in time with his movements, his erection grinding into the back of me.
“Cole,” I moan, and feel him smirk against my neck. After what seems like an age, finally his finger circles my clit, and I jerk.
“Shh,” Cole whispers in my ear.
“Please,” I beg. Maybe I do beg when the situation calls for it. My nails dig into the arm he’s got slung around my waist.
“Patience, love.” He circles my clit a couple more times before slowly sliding a finger inside me. “You’re drenched, Knley.”
“Uh-huh.” I nod. He continues to grind against me, his finger slowly gliding in and out of me, his touch enough to get me worked up but not enough for me to come.
“Cole,” I whine in frustration.
“You get it now, Knley?” he asks. I nod. “I want to hear it, love.”
“Yes.”
“Yes what?”
“Yes, I get what you’re proving.”
“Do you really?”
“Yes!” I yell, my frustration at its peak.
“You’re free, Knley.” He adds another finger, his palm rubbing against my clit, and I come in a rush. It’s a good thing his arm is wrapped around me, as my orgasm takes everything from me and my knees buckle. “I got you, love,” Cole whispers as the waves of pleasure begin to subside. He stays with me until my legs are strong enough to bear my weight again.
I turn to look at him. “Hi,” he says, with a smile in his eyes and on his handsome face.
“Hi, yourself.”
“Feel better?”
I nod. “Much.”
“Good.” He gives me another quick kiss. His dick is hard against my stomach.
“What about you?”
“I’m good.”
“I know that.” I smirk and lift an eyebrow at him that earns me a smirk back. “But it only seems fair that I return the favour.” I reach down and take his cock in my hand. He groans and closes his eyes as I work him, his hips moving to the rhythm.
“Knley.”
I smile. It’s a heady feeling, having this much control over such a strong man. “You’re an amazing man, Cole Matthews,” I say, continuing to stroke him, “so much more than people know.” He groans and, if possible, grows even harder beneath my touch. “You are kind and sensitive and strong but also a little mean.” This gets me a chuckle. “But I’ve never been made to feel so special, so thank you.” I lean up and kiss his jaw. “And I want you to know that this is real and I’m in it 100 percent.”
“Oh God, Kinley,” he moans.
“You can come now,” I say as I bite his earlobe, and he explodes all over my hand and stomach. He leans his forehead against mine while he gets his breath back.
“Bet you never thought you’d be here when we met at the gala a month ago.” He chuckles, his hands cupping my face.
“A month ago I hated you,” I concede.
“But you don’t hate me now.”
I kiss him quickly. “No, I don’t hate you now.”
We stay in Booker for a week, and I’ve got to admit, the place grows on me. I’m a city girl through and through, but I could see myself getting used to a slower pace of life. It’s only a dream though.
I did eventually get in touch with my mother and she generously conceded the band take a short break from rehearsals. Not that she had much choice; Cole steadfastly refused to let me go back to Melbourne before Monday. Of course, there were ways for me to get there if I needed to, but I was inclined to agree with him.
Being in Booker was freeing, and that was relaxing. The Ryans, for all intents and purposes, are Cole’s family and a terrific bunch of people. A few days after I arrived, they had their weekly footy party, and even though it’s not my thing, I had a great time. I spent most of the night talking to Mav. He and Jax are a month away from competing at the Extreme Games, which is a huge deal. Some of the American bands we’ve toured with in the past have played at night during the comp and got the chance to check out some of the events and have been hooked. I’ve seen some of the highlights, and those guys are absolutely insane! But to me, Mav seemed, I don’t know, sad for a lack of a better word. It’s undeniable he’s good at what he does, one of the best in the world, but his eyes didn’t light up when he talked about it, as opposed to Jax, who was jumping out of his skin at the prospect of competing. Mav seems a bit like me, trapped in the family business. Not that Mav is trapped. I’m sure if he wanted to pursue something other than racing or FMX, his family would have no problem with it and totally support him in whatever he chose to do, but I get the guilt he feels in feeling like he has to conform to the family ideals. But he’s young and he’s got his whole life ahead of him to figure out what he wants to do. Hell, if Places, for whatever reason, disappeared tomorrow, I have no idea what I’d do and I’m eight years older than he is. It’s a prospect I’d like to explore more but at the moment it’s just not on the cards.
Right now though, it’s my last night in Booker and I’m not going to deny I’m a little sad. I’m not sure when I’ll get back here, but hopefully with Cole and me being a couple, the opportunity to come back will arise at some stage. We’re at Bria and Reed’s. They’re fantastic. He’s an amazing cook, and for someone so young and new to the PR industry, Bria really knows her stuff. From what I can gather, she’s really taken Ryan Racing to the next level, hooking them up with sponsorship deals and increased media coverage. All of that allowed Reed and Nate, Reed’s dad and Ryan Racing’s president, the ability to offer Cole the opportunity to step up to the NRS as Ryan Racing’s second rider. Right now though, Bria is focused on the TV, in particular the AFL. The girl is mad for her footy, the Saints in particular.
“Angel,” Reed cautions as she gets overly worked up over a call. “You’re seven months pregnant. We don’t need our little man coming early because his mama was stressed out over a preseason game.” I’ve gotten to know Cole’s BFF over the week I’ve been here and I’m pretty sure he’s the perfect guy. He’s so protective of his wife and child. Not that I blame him. Cole told me about the Ryans’ so-called “curse” and all the stuff that went down with the guy who had a go at them during the gala. Apparently it was pretty insane, but now Reed is living it up as a husband and father-to-be.
The game is followed by dinner, a slow-cooked Cajun pork stew—apparently slow cookers are your friends, people—then cinnamon scrolls.
“Is there anything you can’t do?” I ask Reed as I pat my full belly. As if drawn by the aroma of dinner, his three younger brothers and Liam’s boyfriend Mason (can I just say wow!), and Bria’s friends Rome and Grayson have made an appearance. They all chuckle.
“Well,” Reed says, pretending to think, and again everyone laughs. “Nah, there’s a heap I can’t do. Cooking is some
thing I always did, and now Bria’s growing our son, it seems like a fair trade.” I sigh. He really is perfect. “But,” he says, interrupting my reverie, “I suck at playing instruments, unlike someone.” He gives me a pointed look.
“Oh, so Mr Perfect does have a flaw?”
“Mr Perfect?” Jax scoffs. “Please, if any of us is perfect, it’s me.” That gets a raucous laugh.
“It’s lucky though,” Reed continues, “that I just so happen to have a guitar here. Play for us?” I look around at the eager faces and agree. When packing for this break, I didn’t bring a guitar, and while I haven’t thought much about my band, our tour, or any of the shit that comes with it, I have missed music. Music will always be my first love, my ultimate escape. I guess that’s why I haven’t fought being in the band. I love music, creating it, playing it, too much. As long as I get to continue to do that, then I’ll take the interviews and the tabloids and the party appearances.
Reed hands me a beat-up blue acoustic guitar. It might be old, but it plays beautifully.
“So what do you want to hear?” I ask as I tune it. The general consensus is whatever I want to play, so I start off with some Beatles before moving on to Queen. Almost two hours pass before any of us realise. It’s the most fun I’ve had in ages. I can’t remember the last time I played a set that didn’t include one of my own songs. Eventually a dry throat stops me. I only do backup vocals, so my voice isn’t as strong as Sloane’s.
“You’re amazing, love,” Cole says as he draws me to him and kisses my forehead.
“That was awesome,” Jax says. “You’re going on tour soon, right?”
I nod. “We are.”
“So any chance of some tickets?”
“Yeah, sure.”
“Backstage, VVIP tickets?”
“VVIP?”
“Yeah, ’cause I’m a very, very important person.” Again everyone laughs.