Fall with Me (Sixth Street Bands Book 2)

by Jayne Frost

  Sinking onto the arm of the recliner, Mel snagged her lip between her teeth.

  “I’ve never had a one-nighter,” she admitted, her usual confidence wavering. “So you’re going to have to tell me how this goes.”

  Gazing around the room, I noted the large calendar on the dining room wall, a neat stack of books on the table below. Further to the right sat an assortment of colored highlighters, lined up precisely like soldiers waiting to be recruited.

  The girl was organized—OCD style—which was refreshing. But the fact that she was already planning for my imminent departure unnerved me.

  Closing the gap between us, I twirled a lock of her hair around my finger.

  “It goes the way it goes, angel. The only thing set in stone is your breakfast. Eggs, right?”

  She looked up, the sparkle in her eyes faint at best. “I’m not expecting you to be here in the morning, Christian. We both know what this is. I’ve heard all the rumors. I’m not naïve, you know?”

  I pulled away out of sheer reflex. All night long we were just Christian and Mel. My celebrity was barely mentioned. Hell, she didn’t even pump me for information about the band.

  After a moment, I eased onto the chair.

  “Really?” Sliding an arm around her waist, I tugged her onto my lap. “What have you heard about me? I’m dying to know.”

  Staring at the bottle in her hand, her fingernail skated over the label. “The usual. Oversexed rocker. Never in one place more than a night. That kind of stuff.”

  Tucking a finger under her chin, I tilted her face to mine.

  “I’ve been in Austin for months, so you shouldn’t believe everything you hear.”

  Her dull expression indicated she saw through my halfhearted attempt to address the rumors. I may have been in the same city, but that didn’t mean I was in the same bed. A Google search would turn up dozens of pictures to prove the point.

  Mel nuzzled closer, fighting to keep her smile. “I’m just letting you know that I get it. Guys like you don’t date—they fuck.” Her brows drew together. “And breakfast isn’t usually part of the deal.”

  Tightening my grip, my thumb skimmed the smooth skin above the waistband of her jeans. Conversations like this were usually unnecessary. The chicks I hung out with knew the score. Hell, they were fine with it. No truths exchanged beyond the basics: hotel or tour bus, and where should the cab drop you off when we’re finished.

  But Mel wasn’t like that. She spent her time in libraries, not waiting behind rope lines hoping to get my attention.

  Taking her hand, I blew out an apprehensive breath and then began, “I’ve been on the road for four years. It’s a little hard to plan breakfast when you don’t know what city you’ll be in come morning. But I can’t blame it all on my lifestyle.”

  My stomach knotted at the admission. It felt strange to say it out loud. Maybe I was more like my bandmates than I cared to admit.

  Prying my tongue from the roof of my mouth, I went on, “From a strictly biological standpoint, you know, attraction fades as soon as the hormone rush is over. Pheromones and all that.”

  Chancing a peek at Mel’s face, I found her nodding in agreement, her green eyes glued to my face. If anyone understood chemicals it was the beautiful little geek on my lap.

  I traced a finger over the curve of her jaw, smiling. “I’m not saying I’m opposed to a repeat performance. I just don’t believe in making promises I can’t keep.”

  Mel’s gaze slid from mine as she mulled over my declaration. Despite the passionate kiss at the door, she wasn’t a sure thing. Mel could ask me to leave. Hell, she might.

  The realization hit me in the chest like a five hundred pound boulder as she shoved to her feet.

  Hand on her hip, she studied me for a long moment.

  “But you will be making me breakfast…is that what I’m hearing?”

  Not quite a question, but a statement of fact. There would be no pre-dawn walks of shame with this girl.

  “You can bet on it, angel.”

  Surprised at how quickly the answer flew from my lips, I pushed off the chair.

  Intent on capturing Mel’s mouth, I was surprised when she linked our fingers and said breezily, “Cool. Now that we got that out of the way, I think I’ll take you to bed.”

  She was taking me to bed.

  Maybe I should have invited her to my place and shown her who was really in charge.

  I scoffed at the thought as Mel led me through the dark apartment. Taking girls to my place was on the top of my “never do” list. The one and only time I had, the crazy chick showed up the following day with an overnight bag.

  My solid “no” on the subject turned to a definite “maybe” in the ten feet it took to reach Mel’s room.

  Releasing my hand, she scampered around, gathering clothes from the floor and the bed.

  “Sorry,” she said as she dumped the pile on the chair in front of her desk. “I didn’t expect any company. ”

  Her statement thrilled me, though I wasn’t sure why. Mel didn’t seem to share in my delight. Slumping on the corner of the mattress, a pink flush stained her cheeks as she looked around at the mess. Obviously the control she exercised in the rest of her life didn’t extend to her bedroom.

  Attempting to lighten the mood, I fingered the mouse ears peeking out from under some papers on her nightstand. The same mouse ears she wore the day we met.

  “Maid’s day off?” I joked.

  She let out a staggered breath.

  “I am the maid.” Her eyes widened and then she quickly amended, “Not here, of course. But it’s one of the many glamorous jobs I’ve held in the past few years.”

  “A maid, huh?” Nudging her onto her back, my mouth dropped to her ear as I fished the button of her jeans through the hole. “Please tell me you’ve got some little see-through uniform around here and a pink feather duster.”

  Molding her palms to my shoulders, her thumb glided back and forth over my collarbone. “I think they’d frown on that at the nursing home.”

  Nursing home…

  A burger joint and a nursing home. The only job I ever had before we started the band was helping my dad with his lesson plans when I was in high school.

  Sliding next to her, I propped up on my elbow, appraising her profile. “Tough gig, huh— working your way through school?”

  “Not really.” She lifted a shoulder. “All this is paid for through my scholarship. I’m actually really lucky.”

  Sadness dimmed the sparkle in her eyes when she swung her gaze to mine, belying her assertion.

  I brushed my thumb over her bottom lip, removing it from the prison of her teeth. “So, you don’t have to work?”

  “The scholarship doesn’t cover everything.” Her eyes darted away again. “I have other expenses.”

  Glimpsing this softer side of Mel made me want her that much more. I wanted to be inside her. To feel every part of her. But I didn’t want to push.

  Caressing her stomach, I kept my hand in the “PG” zone as I pressed a kiss to the side of her mouth. Mel responded by reaching for my belt. Her brows drew together when I caught her wrist.

  Smiling, I lifted her hand to my lips and kissed her knuckles.

  “You first, sweetheart.”

  Burying my face in the crook of her neck as I unzipped her pants, I breathed in her autumn scent. As I hooked my fingers into the sides of her jeans, a random thought popped into my head.

  Rising to my knees to slide the denim over her hips, I asked, “When do you graduate?”

  A smile broke like dawn, lighting her whole face.

  “December fifth.” She beamed. “Best Christmas present I could ever ask for.”

  Out of nowhere, a twinge of regret echoed in my chest. “That’s awesome, Mel. Really.”

  Lost in thought, I shoved to my feet and began to undress. I felt her eyes on me as I unlaced my boots, so I cut my gaze to hers.

  “What is it?” Defensiveness crept into
my tone.

  The girl had me off balance, like maybe she’d decide I wasn’t her type. I chuckled inwardly at the thought, because I wasn’t her type.

  Mel rolled onto her side. Propping on her elbow, she rested her chin on her upturned palm. “Did you ever think about going to college?”

  Dragging my t-shirt over my head, the twinge of regret in my chest grew more insistent. I’d spent one semester at UT, out of respect for my father. But there was no way I was getting into that with Mel.

  Clutching the foil packet I’d retrieved from my wallet, I eased her onto her back, using my body weight to press her into the mattress.

  “How do you know I didn’t go to college?” I fiddled with a lock of her hair. “Is it that obvious?”

  I refused to look away, even though I knew the answer would be in her eyes, regardless of what she said.

  “No. I just thought…with your career, I assumed—”

  “You assumed right.” I brushed a feather light kiss to her nose. “I had to choose between school and music.”

  “You chose right.” A smile curved her mouth as she ran her thumb over my bottom lip. “You’re a brilliant musician. And you can always go back to school.”

  Unable to hide my surprise, I rose with my palms planted on either side of her face.

  “You like Caged?” I lifted a skeptical brow when she nodded. “I don’t believe it. Name one song. And not that damn ballad that crossed over to the pop charts.”

  Rolling her eyes, she sighed in mock irritation. “‘Devour.’ Third cut, second CD.” She raised a brow of her own. “Happy now?”

  “Ecstatic.”

  For whatever reason it was important to me, knowing that Mel appreciated my music. I realized I was staring down at her with a goofy smile when she laid her palm against the tattoo of the lion’s head on my chest.

  “This is the cover art from the first CD, right?”

  When I nodded, Mel pressed her lips to the ink. My fingers slid into her silky hair, holding her against me for a fraction of a second longer than I should.

  Dropping back onto the pillows, Mel traced her fingertips over the intricate design, frowning. “I wish my tattoo was this cool.”

  Me of all people should know better than to judge a book by its cover. Still, a little teasing seemed to be in order.

  “You have a tattoo?” She nodded but I didn’t let up. “I call bullshit. You’re going to have to show me.”

  She nudged me off, and I slid down beside her.

  Whipping the blouse over her head, she turned on her side. Gathering her hair on top of her head to expose her neck, she looked over her shoulder and said, “It’s—“

  “Euler’s Identity.” I traced the set of numbers with my index finger.

  Flipping around to face me, genuine surprise coated her features. “Impressive. Most people think it’s just a bunch of numbers.”

  Euler’s Identity, in all its complexity, could never be described as a “bunch of numbers.” Anymore than Shakespeare’s sonnets could be likened to “a bunch of words.” Euler’s Identity was mathematical beauty.

  Spoken like the son of a mathematician.

  A dark cloud threatened in the distance as I thought of my father. Rather than wallow under the weight of his disappointment, I unfastened Mel’s bra and then coaxed her onto her back so I could feast on her rose tinted nipples.

  “The tattoo is perfect. Like these.” Laving one pebbled tip, I rolled the other between my thumb and forefinger.

  She arched, and I gladly complied, sucking the stiff peak into my mouth. Slipping my hand inside her panties, my fingers crept toward her heat. She was soaked. Ready for me.

  Parting her slick folds, I brushed my thumb against her clit. “You like that?”

  “Yes.” She squirmed. “More.”

  The girl with all the answers was suddenly reduced to one-word responses. Smiling smugly, I inched down her body, tasting all the smooth skin on my way. She beat me to my destination, her fingers buried in the lace by the time I reached the apex of her thighs.

  “I’ll take care of you, angel.” I caught her wrist and then ran my tongue along her fingertips, savoring her spicy sweetness. “I promise. I got you.”

  She looked down at me over the swell of her breasts. “I don’t think…I mean…you can try.”

  Biting her lip, she turned her face into the pillow, her brows drawn together.

  “Try?” I tugged her panties over her hips and discarded them on the floor beside her jeans. “I’ll do more than try.”

  “I think there’s something wrong with me,” she admitted, a weak smile tilting her lips. “I’ve never been able to…you know…come that way.”

  Settling between her legs, my eyes never left hers as I slipped a finger inside her slick core. Stroking her deeply, I found her g-spot. “You mean this way?”

  She gripped the comforter, her lids falling to half-mast. Within seconds her hand snaked down to rub her swollen clit. “Yes…no…I mean…I can do it.”

  But I didn’t want her to do it. I wanted to do it for her. Normally, I wouldn’t care. Hell, normally, I didn’t have to care.

  “Trust me, baby.” I dragged her hand to her side. “You’re going to come.”

  I stroked her tiny nub while she strained against my grip.

  “More…oh, God,” she moaned. “I want to come. Please…”

  “Patience, angel.” I worked her a little harder—a little faster. “Does that feel good?”

  “Yes, but—“

  “How about this?” Adding another finger, I traced her clit with the tip of my tongue.

  “Yes…yes…”

  She wiggled her hand, desperate to break free and aid me in my efforts.

  “Please, Christian…I can’t…”

  Releasing my hold, I kept her away by entwining our fingers.

  Frowning in dismay, her nails dug into my skin. “I don’t think…it won’t work…”

  I kept up the pace until she grew silent, the tension ebbing from her body.

  Burying her free hand in my hair, she guided the rhythm.

  There you go, angel. Show me how you like it.

  With every flick of my tongue and twist of my hand, I brought her closer. And then she shattered, a string of incoherent phrases tumbling from her lips as she clenched around me.

  Licking and stroking, I didn’t stop until she cried out again, riding the wave of another orgasm. She tasted so fucking good, I could’ve stayed there all night, but my dick was on the verge of a full on revolt.

  Working my way up her limp body, I nibbled each of her nipples along the way.

  When I finally reached her face, her lids fluttered open.

  “There she is.” I pressed a kiss to her mouth. “You still with me?”

  “I think so.” She panted. “That’s never…I haven’t…” Her skin flushed the most adorable shade of pink. “I’ve always had to do it myself.”

  My rock hard cock begged for relief at the visual. Tearing open the foil packet with my teeth, I slid the condom into place. Every muscle in my body tightened as I lowered myself on top of her. My tip at her entrance, her wet heat beckoned, so I slid in an inch.

  “I wouldn’t mind you showing me that sometime.” Thrusting all the way in, I rocked against her until she relaxed. “But we’re going to try it my way first.”

  Chapter Five

  “Christian…”

  The soft moan dragged me from my sleep. After two rounds of the most unforgettable sex of my life, Mel’s groans had probably etched their way into my grey matter. Smiling, I rolled over, ready for round three. Patting the empty space, moisture dampened my palm.

  Sitting bolt upright when I heard another moan, I looked around the dark room.

  “Mel? Where are you?”

  “Christian…” she choked. “Help…”

  Heart racing, I stumbled to my feet, nearly tripping over the body crumpled next to the bed.

  “Melody?” My hands sl
id against her clammy, sweat-soaked skin as I cupped her neck. “What is it?” Alarmed by her blank expression, I barked, “Tell me!”

  Knocked from her haze, she blinked.

  “J-juice,” she stammered through chattering teeth. “I n-need juice.”

  Gazing at the perspiration soaking her heavy cotton t-shirt, I swallowed the panic rising in the back of my throat.

  “Hold on.”

  Racing to the kitchen, I pulled open the fridge and then grabbed the full bottle of Tropicana. Aiming the spout into the cup I found on the counter, juice splattered everywhere.

  Get your shit together.

  Taking a deep breath to steady myself, I finally managed to fill the cup. My false confidence drifted away when I rounded the corner of the bedroom and found Mel huddled against the nightstand, her eyes hooded and her arms limp at her sides.

  Crouching, I pressed the mug to her lips. “Drink this, angel.”

  Pushing my hand away, sticky orange liquid spilled down the front of her shirt.

  “No,” she mumbled, “l-leave me a-alone. I don’t want a shot.”

  She continued to babble, too far gone to realize what she was saying.

  Gripping the back of her hair loosely, I tilted her face to mine. “Mel, listen to me. You’ve got to drink the juice.”

  At the sound of my voice, her unfocused gaze locked on mine.

  “There she is,” I said as I lifted the cup to her lips. “Just a couple of swallows, okay?”

  Curling her fingers around mine, she grasped the cup and fought to take a few sips. Her body rejected the plan and she coughed, spilling a good bit on her lap.

  “It’s okay. It’s just a little juice.” I sifted my digits through her matted hair. “Are you a diabetic?”

  Confusion glazed her pretty green eyes as she nodded her head.

  After cajoling her to take another drink, I eased her back against the nightstand.

  “Where’s your test kit?”

  Shaking her head, Mel rasped, “More juice.”

  I thought about asking her again, but chances were until the fog cleared she’d fight me. So I nodded, angling the edge of the cup to her lips.