by Cari Quinn
His skin sizzled with need. There was too much energy inside his body. From the marrow of his bones out to the calluses of his fingertips, he felt like a live wire.
He slanted his mouth across hers and murmured her name like a prayer. He took her by the hand and pushed through the last of the crew breaking down their equipment.
“West,” she said on a laugh. “The car is back that way.”
“I can’t sit in a car.”
She ran behind him, her fingers tightly clasping his. They weaved in and around the alleyways behind the club to the main street where their hotel was. “You’re going to make me run the next eight blocks, aren’t you? Does this body look like it does any running?”
He tugged her along. “Will the incentive of my mouth on your beautiful pussy make it more appealing?”
She picked up the pace. “I’m listening.”
He laughed and some of the buzz that usually took hours to shake off became more manageable.
Everything with her became more manageable.
He didn’t have it in him to peel that terrifying idea apart right now. What he needed was her, naked and alive in his arms.
That was all that mattered.
She was all that mattered.
Fifteen
Waking on her belly naked in bed in a gorgeous hotel suite after a crazy intense day—and night, whoa boy—of lovemaking had not been part of her plan a week ago.
Or ever.
She’d never dreamed that big.
Nor had she ever imagined meeting a man like West Reynolds. Even his name sounded like magic.
He wasn’t just a rockstar to her anymore, though she’d certainly seen him comfortably wearing his full persona at the more intimate show last night. That side of him was as much a part of his makeup as the man who’d so carefully initiated her into inter—
Fucking. She’d get used to thinking that word and that word only eventually. Since she was pretty sure he was determined she get used to dirty talk.
She had to admit she liked it too, especially those naughty words in his raspy, turned on voice. No problems there.
But today was supposed to be the end of the road. The closing act. The one where she went back to her old life and said goodbye to this man who wasn’t just her friend and her lover, but was rapidly becoming everything.
She turned her head and sneaked a glance at him, a smile creeping across her face as she saw they were in the same pose. Sprawled on their stomachs, arms above their heads, pinkies just barely touching. That was probably the only natural position after the night they’d spent.
The man’s stamina was remarkable. She’d figured he’d be worn out after a night onstage, and instead he was just the opposite. Was he like that after every show? Maybe that partially explained the train of groupies. If he had all that energy to work off and no steady girl to work it off with, of course he’d hook up with randoms. But if he had someone with a similar libido in his life—
And there was a dangerous line of thinking in the extreme.
She inched closer to him, giving in to the urge to brush her fingers through the ends of his golden hair. His was so much more beautiful than her own. It really wasn’t fair. She nudged it aside to lightly trace her fingers over the ink on his shoulders and upper arms. He had a lot of it, but she’d barely noticed it in favor of all the rest of him. It was hard to get excited about some tattoos when they were just part of the entire spectacular package.
But there was one in particular she hadn’t noticed until now. A triangle on his left shoulder blade, the lines thick and dark. It was a very specific tat in the center of what seemed like a random mishmash, so of course, she was curious. No writing nearby, nothing to indicate what it might mean. She was pushing his hair up on the other side to see if there were any more tats that shape when he stirred beneath her, grumbling in his sleep.
His hand snaked back to grab her, making her squeal.
Hmm, maybe not asleep after all.
“Still not satisfied, huh?” Somehow he managed to shift and drag her underneath him before she even fully realized what he was doing. His legs tangled with hers and the heavy weight of his cock pressed into her ass.
Good morning to you, fine sir.
“Are you kidding me? I may have to wrap my vagina in ice to help it recover.” When he tickled her ribs, she giggled and shrieked, trying to buck him off of her. But his swiftly hardening cock rubbed against her backside, distracting her to the point that her clit decided to wake up and say hello too. “Then again…”
“Then again,” he prompted, nosing aside her hair to nip at her earlobe.
“You’re hard. I’m wet. Seems a waste.”
He groaned. “Jesus. I could spend the rest of my life trying to satisfy you and not get there.”
“Oh, I’m satisfied plenty.” She wasn’t going to comment on the rest of my life bit. It was running too parallel with her own thoughts right then.
Impracticality wasn’t any more attractive when it was fueled by excellent sex than it was at other times. She had a life. Sort of. All right, a rather sucky one, and she was in between things at the moment. Not employed, not in school, no lease.
Perfectly unencumbered if one were to entertain complete flights of fancy.
Like the most amazing man in the world nibbling your ear while he cupped your breasts. Times like that, everything seemed possible.
Literally everything.
“You’re sore. You have to be sore. I don’t have any ice.” She snorted and he let her earlobe go with a little pop. “Though there’s the minibar…”
“You want to fuck me and then ice me down?”
“If that’s what it takes to get inside you again.” He licked the underside of her jaw and she sighed in mock resignation.
“Okay. If you insist.” She started to roll over but he stopped her and she lifted her brows. “New position?” she asked breathlessly.
“Yes, my little kinky soul.” His dark chuckle rumbled against her hair. “I’m going to buy the Kama Sutra so we can work our way through it.”
She wanted to ask questions. So many. But that wasn’t fair to him. He’d asked her to stay through today, and they’d just see where the day went.
Even if the clock ticking in her mind wasn’t all that metaphorical any longer. The bus would be leaving in just a couple of hours.
He shifted away from her and she gripped the pillow as he rolled toward the nightstand and the paper bag he’d set there. “Ryan gave me these. Sealed box, dates all good, so shouldn’t be a problem.” He tugged out a box of Durex condoms and she giggled into her fist.
“We used all the others?”
“Yeah. I don’t carry around a truckload, no matter what the tabloids seem to think.”
That was a good entry point for some research, which of course ranked more highly than her quivering ovaries at the sight of him standing naked with an erect shaft and a box of British—wait a second, British?—condoms in his hand.
“What are those? They have the UK flag on them?” She snatched the box. “Wow.”
“They’re green and gold, but I could care less as long as they let me in you.” He grabbed the box and ripped it open, removing just one packet. Her woe at that fact must’ve shown on her face because he grinned. “Sore pussy, remember?”
“Actually, I said sore vagina, but—” She laughed as he jumped on top of her, rolling her into the pillows and straddling the backs of her thighs.
“I’ll get you to say the word pussy. Then you won’t want to stop. You know you like when I say it.”
She couldn’t argue with that. At all.
He skimmed a finger over her lower lips and brushed a kiss over her shoulder blade. “Nice and wet for me already.” He flicked her clit and she scrabbled for the pillow, needing something to brace herself against. “I should make you come with my mouth first. Just slide my tongue in your tight little pussy—” He broke off and chuckled as she squirmed and closed her thi
ghs around his hand. “Point proven.”
“I can say cock with no trouble.” Apparently, her vocabulary had a double standard. She tossed back her hair and looked over her shoulder at him. “So get moving on putting your cock in my pussy. Chop, chop.”
“I appreciate the effort even if the delivery needs some work.” He tore open the foil packet and her humor fell away. “So this is how is going to work.”
Still looking over her shoulder, she licked her lips as she watched him sheath his cock in latex. He rolled it on so smoothly that she had to fight back a shiver. “Do tell.”
“Your pussy needs a break, but we’re both horny as fuck. So we compromise.” He glanced up and smiled at her, lightning quick and devastating. “I’m going to slide inside you but you’re going to do all the work. Take as much as you need or want to get yourself off.”
She couldn’t visualize it, but she didn’t care. She was ready to go. Whipping her head to face forward, she bounced her butt. “Okay. Sounds good to me.”
“Christ almighty, woman. What did I ever do to deserve you?”
“Perfect your pussy-eating skills?”
“Ah, now she thinks she’s a master.” He lightly slapped her ass and she startled, going still as the burn of heat quickly turned into something else.
She caught her breath and swallowed. “Do that again.”
Half expecting him to argue, she waited, tensed. But he only gathered her hair in his fist, pulling lightly as he gently smacked her other cheek. Except this time he didn’t stop right away. He spanked the other again, still so lightly that it was no more than a love tap. He drew on her handful of hair, tugging her up from the bed enough that her taut nipples brushed over the pillows and pulled a moan from her throat.
She didn’t know what was happening, but she didn’t want it to stop.
“More, please.”
His grip tightened. “What’d I tell you about begging? Trust me to know. I can tell what you need.” He popped her on her ass again, increasing the heat building in her core. She writhed against the sheet, craving more stimulation on her clit.
The one thing he wouldn’t give her.
Instead he spanked her, covering her ass in careful smacks that crept closer to the now throb between her legs. She tried to open them, to seek some relief, but he’d shifted to just straddle one of her thighs.
Cagey bastard was still keeping her from moving freely.
She made a frustrated noise, circling her backside in a futile attempt to get some attention where she craved it. He yanked on her hair and she moaned, shocked at the zing from her scalp to her clit and a million points in between.
“How wet are you right now?” His voice was pure gritty sin. “Soaking the sheets?”
She nodded. It was an exaggeration, but not by much. She was positively wound up. More so than she could’ve ever guessed.
“Need a little relief?” He scraped his teeth down her spine and she clutched the pillow, rubbing it against her swollen breasts.
“Yes. God, yes.” She nearly pleaded until she remembered he didn’t like that, unlike every other guy she’d ever seen on Tumblr. Because he wanted her to trust him. To give him the chance to fulfill her needs, even if he didn’t pick the same route she would choose.
So she waited, subtly flexing her ass, hoping his control would snap.
“Brat.” He smacked her ass a couple more times, harder than before, and she moaned, unable to stop. The warmth inside her was growing, tightening—
And he snapped his hips back and drove into her in one long thrust, turning her cries into a scream.
“Fuck, already gonna come. Jesus. On me.” He dragged her up by her hair, giving her a second’s panic before it smoothed out into the glory of having his dick stroke in and out of her, so deep and hard. “With me.”
Surprise blurred over the rest. He was that close too? Though she couldn’t deny that he sure as hell felt that way inside her. So hard and huge, stretching her open in a whole new way.
So much new. That ice bath probably wasn’t far off.
But now…
She grasped the pillow in both hands and pushed back against him, rocking into his dick. Taking it exactly as she needed it, using him for her own pleasure. From his groan behind her, he was enjoying it too. This was probably the most unflattering angle ever—and God knew her butt was anything other than small—but he was breathing fast and choppy and that subtle pulse in her pussy grew every time she rolled back to take more of his cock. She tested the angle, scooting forward and back again, bumping against his groin. This position took a lot more work. She was going to be sore in more places than just the part of her taking him—
Oh shit. She glanced down, dropping her head until she could see exactly that. Just the slightest hint of his thick cock splitting her open as she took him inside, again and again. Him coming back out drenched from her.
“West. West, I’m—“ She bit her knuckles, hoping the pain would distract her. She wanted more.
Not yet. Not yet. Not yet.
But it was no use. He swore ripely, letting go of her hair to grip her hips and plunge inside her. So hard that she quaked from head to toe and he triggered that spot deep inside, the one that didn’t care that she was greedy. She sliced her nails through the pillow and threw back her head, hovering on the edge until his mouth against her ear sent her soaring.
“Fucking come.”
She bit her lip on a scream, slicing right through the flesh. Clenching him hard, she kept moving, mindless. Slamming back against him without thought for the stinging ache or the strain in her muscles or that she couldn’t seem to catch her breath.
All she could do was take him, again and again.
He groaned into the back of her neck an instant before his teeth clamped down. Pain flashed through her, setting off another round of contractions as he emptied himself into the condom. Somehow she could actually feel him throbbing through his release.
And she wanted it inside her. Every dirty, wet drop.
She slumped to the mattress, her breath wheezing out of her. He wasn’t much better. His damp chest clung to her back and he had to blow a strand of her hair out of his mouth.
“God bless the British,” she said, and he started to laugh.
“Good thing you reminded me. Fuck, I was half asleep again.” Carefully, he pulled out of her, releasing a long exhale. “Your ass is still pink.”
She pillowed her head on her arms. “Fair skin.”
“Did I hurt you?”
The worry in his tone made her crane her neck to stare at him. He actually looked contrite as he stroked her backside. “Is the Pope Catholic?” At his frown, she frowned back. “Wait. Wrong answer. Climax brain. Is that a thing? It should be a thing.”
“You’re new to all of this. I’ve been pushing you too hard.”
“Right. I could tell that when I was practically shoving my butt at you.”
“I’m the one with experience. I should know better what you can handle.”
She turned her head back around and shut her eyes. “Good time to remind me of all the women who’ve come before me.” Who will come after me.
“Christ, Lo, that’s not what I meant to—I just, baby, I don’t want to hurt you. What you’ve given me is precious. I need to remember you’re still getting used to this.”
She didn’t respond. She wasn’t even sure she could speak through the thickness in her throat.
“Lauren.” He cupped her shoulder. “Look at me, please.”
“Oh, I can’t beg, but you can.” But she still rolled over. Her gaze dropped right to his wilting British condom and she snorted out a laugh despite herself. “I feel like I should salute.”
His brow furrowed until he got her meaning. He grunted and disposed of the condom, then returned to sit beside her on the bed. “I get that you’re pushing the boundaries.”
“What was your first clue? Maybe that I’ve never done any of this stuff in my whole life and n
ow I’m like a starving kid at a buffet, waiting for the food to run out?” Hearing the quaver in her voice, she shut up.
Just what she needed—to remind him that she was inexperienced and in over her head. It didn’t matter that they were just about the same age. He was an adult, with all the life knowledge that came along with that, and she simply was not.
“Having sex doesn’t make me any wiser than you. You know more in some ways than I ever will. I know how to get my dick wet. Big deal. What exactly does that say about me? That I can go out there and knock up some chick who doesn’t even want me to get near my own kid?”
Lauren sat up, hauling her pillow to her chest. “West.”
“Christ, I didn’t mean to say that. This isn’t about Chloe. It’s about you and me, and that I don’t want—”
Her cell phone went off where she’d thrown it on the dresser across the room.
Shit.
“That’s my parents,” she said quietly, rubbing his shoulder as she climbed off the bed. “I’m sorry. I have to take this.”
Sixteen
Perfect freaking timing.
It took her a minute to get her legs back under her. Or more accurately, to make sure they were still capable of carrying her across the room.
Though she had to bite her sore lip, she managed to walk without limping. It was a close thing. But because she was her, she wanted to do a booty dance.
That was sore too. Which was just awesome.
Then she glanced back at the bed as she grabbed her phone and the moment’s euphoria disappeared. West was gripping his head in his hands, his elbows on his knees.
Her heart lurched and she had to take a few shaky breaths before she could answer her parents. “Hello, Mother,” she said, her voice as chilly and composed as if she didn’t have ass burn and a decimated pussy.
If that wasn’t an actual condition, she might just have to enter it into the official sexual lexicon.
“Oh, good. I wasn’t sure you were going to answer. What with your new lifestyle choices and all.”
“Yeah, the debauchery does take up a lot of my time. I take it you’ve spoken to Ethan.”