Six Guns and Six Strings: 13 Book Excite Spice Cowboys and Rock Stars Mega Bundle (Excite Spice Boxed Sets)

by Selena Kitt

  "Good...for openers?"

  Smiling, she reached one hand back and around his head, embracing him. "Good," she conceded.

  * * *

  She had the strangest blue eyes, Tommy noticed. In the lamplight, they were almost opaque. She was looking at him with intense curiosity now, while they took a break. They'd collapsed together, hot and exhausted. He'd got up and found a glass, opened the champagne, and selected something more relaxing on the iPod.

  After a while, she climbed over him, lying on top of his body and wedging her chin up on one hand, her elbow resting on his shoulder. "Mind if I warm myself on you?"

  "Not at all."

  Her toes wriggled and she smiled down at him. "My very own heated, personal bed slave."

  A soft laugh escaped him. "I'm no slave."

  "I could take that as a challenge."

  "You take everything as a challenge, I assume?"

  She nodded happily, stroking his neck under his ear.

  He swore, swatting her hand off. He had a dangerous erogenous zone there that he guarded with his life. She seemed to be drawn to it like a homing pigeon.

  "What?"

  "Tickles," he said, gruffly.

  "I'll have to remember that, purely for torture purposes."

  Apparently her playful streak never let up.

  He moved his hands to her buttocks, holding her. She flinched and gave out the deepest, most pleasured sigh. He massaged her gently there, where he'd marked her, claiming her gorgeous arse. He was getting hard again. It wouldn't be long until he was ready to have her all over again.

  But, he reminded himself, there was the small matter of discussing whatever it was that she'd seen in Clayton's dressing room. He reached for the glass of champagne and lifted it to her lips. She sipped slowly, never breaking eye contact. Her eyes twinkled. She had a wild nature, and a confrontational attitude that hooked his curiosity.

  "It seems a crime to drink such good champagne from a glass made for a toothbrush," she commented, her tongue darting out to lick a spill from her lips.

  He set the glass down and kissed the place she had licked, tasting the champagne on her skin.

  "Do you always get champagne after a gig?"

  He shook his head. "It's been Clayton's biggest tour to date. I traveled all over Europe with him. The room and the champagne are like a bonus." The question brought Clayton back to mind again, the party, and the fact that this little rogue groupie was probably just about to pump him for information.

  "You were behind the clothes rail, weren't you?" He touched the tip of her nose. "When I saw you run out of there, I figured it was the only place you could have been. Was I right?"

  She nodded. "You were looking straight at me." Her eyes twinkled. "I thought you were going to come over and haul me out."

  "That might have been fun."

  "You had your fun."

  And he wanted more. At the back of his mind, though, a sense of duty and loyalty reminded him that he should be asking her what she'd seen. "How did you know that Clayton and Jay were...together?"

  She lifted her chin as she gave a soft, breathy laugh. "Because they got rather intimate while I was in there."

  "Right, I see." That was bad news. He didn't see anything mercenary in her expression, though. "Are you going to use the information in any way?"

  She stared at him a moment, as if his comment hadn't quite sunk in, and then she pulled back, looking a bit horror-struck. "No way. Everyone is entitled to their privacy." She gave a slight frown, looking sheepish. "I know, I intruded on their privacy, but really I didn't know I was intruding on anything of that nature did I?"

  Tommy pushed away the thought that she might have been willing to step into Jay's shoes and get intimate with Clayton herself, had Jay not already been in there doing the job. "Clayton is a friend, as well as an employer. I'm concerned that this information will get out."

  She shook her head. "I know you don't know me and you don't know if you can trust me, but believe me, you can. That's not my thing at all." She locked eyes with him as she ran her fingers into his hair.

  He tried to get the measure of her. His gut instinct said to trust her. But, beyond driving the message home, there was little else he could do, in reality.

  "You're a good pal."

  "Yes, but I never let a client down. It's my first duty to ensure he's able to do his thing without too much personal hassle."

  "Never let a client down, hmm?" She reached for his hips, stroking him.

  "That's me." His dick was stirring. "The party will be in full swing. Would you like to go?" She was interested in more sex, he could tell, but he wanted to know what her answer would be.

  "And spoil this moment? No way." She reached forward and gave his jaw line a gentle bite. It was the oddest little quirk, as if she were marking her territory. "If you need to go," she said, drawing back, looking apologetic, "don't worry, I understand."

  "No, I'm happy here." He tried not to be too pleased about the fact that she didn't want to go to the party. It didn't mean anything. "You don't have to get home?"

  "No, I'm a big girl, and I can take care of myself."

  "I can see that." He laughed softly, enjoying the weight of her body on his, even more since she had chosen him over the party.

  She lifted one shoulder in a shrug. "Like I said, life is short." She got that intense serious expression on her face again. It was almost wistful. He felt her pulling back, and it made him curious.

  "That's a very hedonistic attitude you've got there."

  She gave a dismissive nod, which surprised him.

  "Yes, and when something good comes by, you know, you just have to go with the flow...enjoy the moment for what it's worth."

  "The moment?" He could feel her backing away all the time, and yet at the very same time her fingers began to clutch at him, her eyes growing dark as she looked at his arms, stroking the muscles there.

  "The night." She rose up and moved down to stroke his torso with her hands.

  It's a one-night stand. He'd been getting hard anyway, but reference to the temporal situation had his dick up and needy for more, before it was gone. Before she was gone.

  "Oh that's good," she said, when she felt his erection against her bottom. Her legs splayed to either side of him.

  She put out her hand and he passed her the condom.

  She rolled it on quickly, eager, and mounted him, easing him inside and slowly lowering down onto him, her eyes closing in appreciation.

  He grabbed her wrists, holding them down, pinning her to the bed. "Do your best to move. I want to see you struggle."

  "Are you challenging me?"

  "Yes, because you love it."

  "How do you know that already?"

  "I'm observant."

  At first she struggled in his grip, and that was good. His dick was totally enclosed by her warm, damp cunt, each move she made causing minute friction so intense that he felt his whole body driving up into her.

  Then she fell still. She didn't move, but, oh, she did! Her inner muscles took over, gripping his rigid dick with regular contractions, her hips rocking back and forth imperceptibly. She gave him a dark stare, her expression filled with challenge. "Can't stop me doing that, can you?"

  He gritted his teeth when he felt those deep, rhythmic contractions. He was about to come. He gripped her wrists tighter still, pulling her body down hard and still onto the spurting head of his dick. She cried out in pleasure, her body rippling as she matched him, her cunt seizing, getting tighter still as she came, the inside of her thighs flooding wet.

  He pulled her down to his chest, stroking her hair as they surfaced. "You're a crazy lady, Kelly."

  "Yeah," she breathed, onto his chest, "and you like that."

  She wasn't wrong there.

  3

  Tommy squinted into the light that poured through the open curtains. It took him a few moments to work out where he was, then the soft, warm weight of a woman against his sh
oulder and chest reminded him. He smiled and glanced down at her. Her breathing was deep and even, her hair a mess on his upper arm.

  What a night.

  He hadn't even noticed the curtains in the room were open when they got there. They had been far too interested in each other. A chuckle rumbled through his chest and he quelled it in case it woke her, but it didn't seem to disturb her. She was sleeping deeply and he rolled her onto the other pillow.

  She drew her knees up towards her chest as she settled into position. The curve of her back was quite beautiful. It brought about a sense of yearning in him, to wake with a woman every morning.

  Not this one.

  No, she'd made that quite clear. But a woman like her. He hadn't thought about it in a while. He didn't have time for much social life, what with the security work on top of developing the business he part owned with his sister and brother-in-law. Kelly made him think about it again, though.

  Why? Because she is a wild woman out of control. He laughed at himself. Yes, that was his fantasy type. Not exactly the type of woman you can plan a secure future with. And yet she looked tranquil, sleeping, her body soft and gentle, unlike the wild clamoring thing of the night before. He smiled, remembering. Her bottom looked so good, no longer pink from his spanking. She'd liked that, a lot, though. The feeling of his hands on her—she'd said it brought her pleasure and pain, heating her up for his dick. He loved the way she told him exactly what it had done to her. He was getting hard at the memory of it.

  It made him feel possessive and he reached out and stroked her buttock gently with one hand, remembering how it had felt when she'd wrapped her legs around his hips in the corridor backstage. Just holding her bottom in his hands, while she'd ground her crotch against him, had sent him crazy. There had been no turning back from that point on. That's all she had wanted though, one night. Regretfully, he faced the fact.

  She murmured in her sleep and clutched at the covers. He moved away, wondering if she was cold. Reaching down to the end of the bed, he pulled the comforter over her. She snuggled into the pillow and her breathing fell into a regular pattern again.

  He stood and stretched, glancing out the window. It looked out onto an alleyway. He couldn't get over the fact that they hadn't even noticed the curtains were open. The idea made him feel good. It had been a hot night, raunchy as hell. Shame she only wanted the one night.

  What about the fact that you said you'd never sleep with a groupie?

  There it was. His conscience had woken up and was bugging him with the question he'd managed to push aside for the whole of the night before. It wasn't so easy to ignore it now, in the morning light.

  She'd been after Clayton, the star. She was probably gutted Clayton was gay, and he'd been a convenient lay—second choice—since she couldn't get her hands on the star himself. It had been a mistake. It happened a lot in the business, many of the backstage crew took one-nighters with groupies wherever they could, but not him.

  Until now?

  He'd sworn he would never go for that. But she'd seemed so interested in him, turned on from the moment he captured her. She'd loved the sex games—playing up to his punishment performance like it was the best sex she'd ever had.

  You broke your vow, his conscience nagged on.

  He picked up his phone from the bedside table to check the time and noticed that he'd received a text message in the early hours.

  U r an uncle! Queen Elizabeth's hospital. Carol & baby doing fine. Jim.

  Tommy stared at the screen in surprise. His little sister had delivered six weeks early. An unexpected bolt of pride hit him. Reaching for his abandoned jeans, he pulled them on quickly, hopping about on one foot, wondering if it was a girl or a boy. A boy, he hoped. He liked the idea of having a nephew. His clothes and shoes were scattered everywhere. He strode about, collecting them, and wondered whether he should wake Kelly.

  When he was dressed, he returned to the bedside. It seemed a shame to wake her, especially for what was bound to be an awkward post-one-night-stand good-bye. Given what she had said the night before, she would probably prefer that he didn't. He unplugged his iPod, pushed it into his hip pocket, and then glanced about. The room had been paid for in advance. There was a hostess tray, so, whenever she woke, she could have coffee, shower and leave in her own time. He'd have liked to see her again, but she wouldn't want that. He reached for his leather jacket.

  Admit it, his conscience said, it was a mistake—you broke your vow. She wanted sex. She'll only give you the cold shoulder. It was good but it's over.

  Running his fingers through his hair, he nodded, but he still felt torn. She was a lot of fun, a truly wild woman. He stepped closer and smoothed her hair back from her forehead. She gave a little snore, and he smiled. Turning away, he pulled his jacket on and quietly left the room.

  * * *

  He was gone. Kelly wasn't surprised, but she wasn't sure why she felt a sense of loss. She did though. Why? She hadn't wanted any more than what they had shared. She never did. I don't need a man. Her independence was something she wore like a badge of courage, like a shield. There's no way she wanted to become dependent on another person. Her mother had been destroyed by the breakup of her marriage, and since her father left them when she was five years old, Kelly had never wanted anything from men other than a bit of fun. It was sensible. She called it self-protection.

  But even as she sat up in the bed mulling it over, her eyes went to the dent in the sheet where he'd lain, the crease in the pillow where he'd folded it over and tucked it under to get closer to her as they had fallen asleep—and she wished he was there.

  Suddenly annoyed, she threw back the sheets and leapt off the bed. "Would have been nice just to say good-bye," she muttered, snatching her clothes up from the floor. Amongst them, she found the abandoned champagne cork. Picking it up, she hurled it at the bathroom door. As she did, the door swung open and she saw a reflection of herself in the mirror from the bathroom. She looked a mess, with her top hastily pulled on and her leather pants hanging from her hand. His fault.

  Sometimes she hated looking in the mirror because she saw her mother, heartbroken. They shared the same intensity and the same eyes. Kelly had decided when she was six years old that she never wanted to be heartbroken like that. She'd steeled herself against it.

  "Men," she said to herself, vehemently, and began to pull her pants on. Okay, so she had told him she only wanted the night, but they could have pretended to exchange phone numbers. That's what she usually did if she met a bloke she liked, giving him her number and then ignoring her phone, screening each and every call. He could have at least pretended to exchange numbers, at least tried to be polite. She might have even answered the phone for this one.

  She was smarting badly. She paced up and down, trying to work off some of her indignation. Letting it go would be the best thing to do, she knew that, but something was niggling at her. She hadn't wanted him to be gone.

  You don't need a man, she reminded herself. Nothing to lose, best way to be.

  When she was fully dressed, she pushed her hair back and stormed out of the room with her head held high.

  * * *

  Tommy observed his little sister holding the new baby, while Jim, the new Dad, stood by looking foolishly happy with his new perma-grin. It was then that Tommy realized how stupid he'd been. So what if Kelly had indicated it was only a one-night stand? He should have made a bigger effort to show he would have been interested in more.

  Seeing his sister and Jim so infinitely happy had led him to question himself. Jim and Carol hadn't exactly had an easy beginning, logic pointed out, why should anyone else? They'd run into each other at a holiday resort in Spain, literally. It had been Carol's last night there, and Jim had just arrived. They stumbled into each other in a nightclub. He'd spilled his drink on her but she forgave him. He bought her another. They spent barely an hour together. The next day Carol flew out, and they hadn't even exchanged numbers. His tenacious little sister
hadn't let that stop her. She tracked Jim down by telling the story on a London radio station, and Jim had heard her and called.

  "Carol, I've got something I have to do, and I'm afraid I'm going to have to leave."

  His sister nodded, and Jim reached over and put out his hand. "Thanks for coming so quickly," his brother-in-law said. "Uncle Tommy." He grinned.

  Tommy took his hand, shaking it and saluting. "No worries. I'll come back later on this evening." He reached over to kiss Carol on the forehead. "Sorry, sis. It's just something urgent I need to attend to, I'll explain later."