Blackthorne: Heart of Fame, Book 8

by Lexxie Couper

  He filled her, his rhythm lost to his climax, his eyes shut, digging his fingers into her hips.

  She milked him of his seed, each erratic thrust met with a powerful contraction, gasping his name every time until there was nothing left in his cock, nothing left in his balls.

  He slumped on her, pressing his face to her breasts, his legs trembling, his weak knee trembling. “Holy fuck, Caitlin,” he whispered, the wild thumping of his heart loud in his ears. “I don’t…nothing like that…”

  Her soft chuckle vibrated through his body. “The feeling’s mutual.”

  Raising his head, his length still deep inside her, he found her gaze. “If I tell you I love you, will you tell me the feeling is mutual as well?”

  She stared at him. Around his spent cock, her muscles continued to constrict with the sublime pulses of her fading orgasm. “I don’t know,” she said, her voice husky, her expression enigmatic. “Is it the kind of thing you want to say to me?”

  Inching higher up her body, he traced his fingertips over her bottom lip, holding her gaze. “I fantasized about you years ago after one look at your photo. I fell in lust with you weeks ago after one look at you on the sidewalk. And when you introduced me to your three-legged lizard…” He let her see his small, scared smile. “Yeah,” he went on, touching her lips again. “I think it is the kind of thing I want to say to you.” He brushed his lips over hers. “I love you, Caitlin Reynolds. Completely and utterly. What do you think about that?”

  She studied him, that unreadable, enigmatic expression on her face again. “I think I want to tell you I like you too, Josh.”

  He stared at her, his heart stilling. “Like?” he echoed. “Really?”

  His gut knotted. He’d pushed her too fast. He’d rushed her.

  Her lips curled in a slow smile. “No,” she murmured. “I think—no, I know—I love you too. More than I could ever hope to ex—”

  He kissed her before she could finish.

  Because, seriously, how could he not?

  Kissed her, held her close and then told her he loved her again.

  “I’ve spent the last five years of my life singing songs about love,” he murmured, gazing down at her as he trailed his fingertips over her bottom lip. “Longer if you count all the times I sang songs written by Dad. But it wasn’t until I met you that I truly understood what love really is.”

  A soft smile pulled at the corners of Caitlin’s mouth. Her blue eyes twinkled with open happiness. “And what’s that, Mr. Rock Star?”

  He nibbled a path of kisses up to her ear. “The courage to give everything you are to one person without any expectation of something in return.”

  Her slow intake of breath tickled his senses, as did the way she moved beneath him, smoothing her hands over his back, pressing her hips to his with a gentle upward thrust. “Is that what you did?” she whispered.

  The smoldering embers of his previous orgasm flared deep in his core, licking a trail of mounting tension through him again. He brushed his lips over hers, his cock—nestled so close to her exquisite heat—swelling with renewed desire. “Yes.”

  She raked her hands up into his hair and held his head with two tight fists as she worshipped his lips and tongue with hers.

  He returned that worship with his own, his tongue exploring her teeth, her lips, her mouth, his cock growing fatter, stiffer with each passing swipe and swirl of wet skin on wet skin.

  “Thank you,” she murmured, a lifetime of passionate kisses later.

  He smiled, his pulse a thumping beat in his ears, a surging force in his dick. “For what?”

  She touched his cheek and his jaw with a slow stroke of her fingers. “For being everything you are with me.”

  He chuckled, warmth radiating through his soul. “Anytime. It’s not exactly hard.”

  Caitlin gave him her own chuckle, rolling her hips a little to rub the curve of her sex against his increasingly stiff cock. “Oh, I wouldn’t say that.”

  A heavy throb filled his length. His chest tightened. Lowering his head to hers, he nibbled her bottom lip as he smoothed a hand over her ribcage to capture her breast in a gentle, kneading squeeze. “Everything I am, babe,” he rasped, shifting his hips until the tip of his now rigid dick parted her moist folds. “Everything. Including constantly horny and hungry for you.”

  She closed her eyes and scraped her nails at his shoulders as he penetrated her with the bulbous dome of his cock’s head. “I can live with that,” she declared, her voice husky, wrapping her thigh around his hip. “The feeling is entirely mutual.”

  And to emphasize just how mutual her feelings were on the matter, she dragged her hands down his back, grabbed his butt in a demanding squeeze and pulled him hard to her, driving his length deep into her sex.

  Joining them together in the most elemental way there was.

  He stretched her, filled her. Possessed her. She moved beneath him, wanting more. Needing it all.

  He gave it to her in deep, powerful thrusts that took her closer and closer to the pinnacle of pleasure.

  She held on to him, clung to him, surrendering the last of her confusion to the perfect peace and rapture he created in her.

  She knew there was a time in her life when Josh Blackthorne hadn’t existed in her soul, but she couldn’t remember when. He moved within her as if she was born to be his, fitting to her without flaw. She knew there was a time in her life when she’d been desperately sad and lonely and lost, but that time was nothing more now than a fading shadow dancing on the edge of a rising sun.

  When Josh pulled her upward, when he drew her upper body to his and claimed her lips, his length buried deep inside her, his heart beating in rhythm with hers, she cried out. Not just with passion, not just with pleasure, but with joy unlike any she’d experienced.

  Because as he took her to heights she’d never imagined possible, he took away every doubt and fear she’d had. Not just of being with him, not just of being with a famous rock star, not of all the baggage that came with being in a relationship with a sex-symbol celebrity, but her fears of letting go of Matt. Her fears of saying goodbye to Matt. Saying goodbye to the man she’d once believed she was going to grow old with.

  It tore her heart and made it whole at once.

  And for that, she would love Josh with everything she had.

  Forever.

  Chapter Fifteen

  “Have you seen the line for people waiting to get in here?” Mandy poured Caitlin a drink from the other side of the main bar, eyes wide, the expression on her face more than a tad shell-shocked. “We are going to hit capacity within the first few seconds of opening the door.”

  “It’s going to be a big one,” Zach agreed, wiping down the spotless counter with a swipe of the ubiquitous white towel he carried over his shoulder whenever he was on the business side of the bar. “Getting extra staff for the night was a wise move, boss.”

  Twisting on her heel to rest her elbows on the marble counter, her heart doing its best to thump its way out of her chest, Caitlin ran a slow inspection over the bevy of activity in her nightclub.

  Temporarily hired wait staff, bar staff and security staff moved around the as-yet patron-free floor, preparing the place for the insane influx of frenzied Synergy and Josh Blackthorne fans currently waiting in a far-from-quiet queue outside the main door.

  It was a sight to behold, one that filled Caitlin with both excitement and nerves.

  Who would have thought when she’d opened the Chaos Room that the hottest rock star on the planet would perform in it?

  How had all this happened?

  How the fuck had all this happened?

  The sound of a guitar being played softly, the strings being individually plucked and stroked with masterful talent, was the only answer she needed.

  She slid her gaze to the man perched on a stool in the middle of the club’s low stage and couldn’t help but draw a slow breath. Christ, he was…

  Incredible?

  A
mazing?

  Sexy?

  Perfect?

  Hers.

  As if aware she studied him, Josh raised his focus from his fingers moving over the strings of his guitar and looked at her.

  A liquid heat pooled in Caitlin’s core.

  He was the one who’d made this all happen, and he was in love with her.

  Could life get any better?

  He gave her a slow smile and a wink. On any other man that wink would come off as cheeky, almost smug, but on Josh it was straight-up, one-hundred percent wonderful.

  That wink was for her. No one else.

  For her.

  Just as she was for him. No one else. Him.

  For a moment, the thought of the slurs directed at her in the media and on the social networks scratched at her happiness.

  Three afternoons ago, she and Josh had been photographed holding hands as they entered the Chaos Room. Since then, the celebrity gossip sites had been filled with fresh insinuation and allegations that she’d targeted Josh, used her grief as a means to ensnare him and was now milking his fame and her killed fiancé’s fame to further her club’s status.

  She refused to let those slurs destroy her. She’d spoken to Matt’s parents who, while still grieving their son, understood. She’d spoken to her parents, who also understood. She hadn’t needed to speak to her friends or Uncle L, because they already understood.

  Now, standing here in the Chaos Room with Josh smiling at her from the stage, she wanted the world to understand as well.

  Josh hadn’t taken away her love for Matt. No one could do that. He’d given her the strength to love again.

  “Ten minutes, boss.” A firm hand covered her shoulder and Zach’s deep voice rumbled behind her. “Strop’s opening the door and letting people in in ten minutes. Are you ready?”

  Pulling in a slow breath, her gaze held by Josh’s dark eyes, she nodded.

  “This is an incredible thing he is doing,” the woman on Caitlin’s left—a representative from Doctors Without Borders—exclaimed. “I am still in awe.”

  “He is incredible,” Caitlin corrected, giving Josh a secretive smile that told him exactly what she wanted to do to him. She shot the woman a quick glance. “If you’ll excuse me, I better go tell him we are about to let people in.”

  She crossed the dance floor to the stage, her heels clicking on the polished wooden surface, her heat beating faster. Zach yelled at everyone, a warning of expectations and time left before opening.

  Caitlin heard it with a distant awareness, like a vague sound relegated to white noise. All that mattered, all that really mattered, was the man on the stage watching her.

  A man who removed the guitar strap from around his neck as she drew closer, slid his butt off the stool he’d been perched on and lowered himself into a crouch at the stage’s edge, his lips curling into a slow, seductive smile. “Heya, beautiful.”

  She rolled her eyes, curling her fingers around the velvet rope barrier she’d insisted on being erected to keep any overenthusiastic patrons from climbing onto the stage. “Flattery will get you everywhere, Blackthorne.”

  He chuckled, shifting a little on the balls of his feet.

  Caitlin glared up at him with mock agitation. “You’re going to make your knee ache if you keep doing that.”

  Mischief twinkled in his eyes. “Remind me not to go down on one knee when I ask you to marry me then.”

  Caitlin’s heart skipped a beat. Or three. Letting him see not only her delighted blush, but also her rather dopey smile at the notion of being married to him, she nodded. “Shall do. Now get your butt back on the chair, Mr. Rock Star. We’re about to open.”

  “First things first,” he answered, a second before leaping the short distance off the stage to land directly before her on the other side of the rope.

  She saw his jaw bunch a second before he slid his fingers into her hair and captured her lips with his, kissing her with slow, thorough attention and passion.

  Pulling away, he smirked down at her. “Now, I can start singing.”

  She grinned. “That hurt your knee, didn’t it?”

  He nodded, his smirk stretching wider. “Oh, yeah.”

  With another roll of her eyes and a wonderful bloom of contented warmth in her belly, she chuckled. “Thought so. Need help getting back on the stage, Limpy?”

  He snorted. “Nope.”

  And with a flourish, he spun on his heel, grabbed the edge of the chest-high stage and hauled himself up onto it, his biceps and triceps flexing with smooth strength under the black T-shirt he wore.

  “Opening the doors in one minute, boss,” Zach shouted from the bar. “You ready?”

  She cocked an eyebrow at Josh, who was wincing with melodramatic pain as he deposited himself on his stool. “You ready?”

  Threading the strap of his acoustic guitar around his shoulder, he shifted his butt on the stool and rested his heel on the low cross bar, taking his weight off his damaged knee. “What do you think?”

  Caitlin laughed, a wave of concentrated happiness and love rushing through her. “Remind me,” she said over her shoulder as she turned away from him, “to stock up on liniment at the all-night pharmacy on the way home tonight.”

  “Thirty seconds, boss,” Zach called.

  “Just tell Strop to open the bloody doors, Zachary,” she told her second-in-charge with a smile as she made her way back to the bar. “The wait is killing me.”

  By the time she made it to the marble counter and took the squat glass of whisky Mandy offered her, the dance floor was almost overflowing with screaming, squealing, excited people.

  By the time she raised her glass to her lips, she could barely make Josh out behind the sea of squirming, near-ecstatic fans and squeeing women holding up their smartphones to snap shot after shot of the world’s hottest rock star.

  “Security is holding firm,” Zach murmured in her ear. “They’re keeping everyone behind the rope.”

  Caitlin’s tummy clenched. Nerves threaded through her joy. She’d had many successful bands and singers perform in the Chaos Room, all with their own manic fan base and groupies. She’d never once worried about their personal safety though. She trusted her crew implicitly.

  Never loved any of those ones though, did you?

  She stared at the spot she’d last caught a glimpse of Josh. He’d insisted on being on the stage when the night’s patrons entered the room. Said he liked seeing people as they walked in, before the glare of the spotlight erased them from his sight. Told her it gave him a chance to connect with them before he started singing.

  Shifting her feet, she gripped the glass of scotch in her hand. Normally, she’d head out to her office to watch the event via CCTV.

  Normally, she’d have Bach or Beethoven playing in the background.

  Normally, she’d not be impatient for the performance to be over so she could drag Josh into said office and reclaim him as hers from the slathering crowd with her tongue, her lips, her teeth and her body.

  Ten minutes later—during which Zach provided a wholly unnecessary but thoroughly entertaining running commentary on what Josh was doing; signing autographs, mugging it up for the cameras, accepting gifts of single roses and soft-toy animals—a ripple of excitement rushed through the crowd of people crammed onto the dance floor and around its perimeter.

  “He’s just given me the nod,” Zach whispered in her ear. “Showtime.”

  Caitlin pulled in a slow breath.

  A heartbeat later, the stage lights turned off, plunging the stage and dance floor into darkness.

  A frenzied squeal of excitement tore the air, a collective reaction to the moment everyone in there was waiting for. It grew louder, louder. People whistled and stamped their feet. Another heartbeat of darkness passed, followed by a single stage light coming to life, illuminating Josh in a soft, white beam that fell over the back of his head and shoulders, casting his face in shadows.

  The screams grew insane. The excitement
in the room grew to fever-point.

  And then, as Josh’s fingers began to move over the strings of his acoustic guitar, silence fell from those in the club.

  Complete, reverent, awe-struck silence.

  Caitlin had never heard anything like it. A shiver shot up her spine. A lump filled her throat. She stared at the stage, her view of Josh blurred by sudden tears, hot and wonderful tears. Tears of pride and elation and love.

  With just a few simple strokes of his fingers, Josh Blackthorne had rendered the club speechless.

  Left her reeling.

  And more in love with him, if that was even possible.

  The notes danced from the strings of his guitar, caressed the silence, seduced it—the pure sound of an old guitar played by a man of unfathomable talent.

  “Fuck,” Zach whispered at her ear, “he can play.”

  Caitlin swallowed. Licked her lips. Smiled.

  She drew in another quick breath when he raised his head, found her with his gaze and said, “For Caitlin,” as the notes he played turned into the beginning of “Today”, a song written by his father for the only woman Nick had ever loved.

  The crowd erupted in squeals, whistles and cheers. The noise rose to deafening levels and fell silent again when Josh opened his lips and began to sing.

  “I’ll hold you till you let me.

  And then plead for time…”

  As the words left Josh, sung with the same raw emotion his father was known for, Caitlin forgot how to breathe.

  “I’ll hold you for all time.

  My heart, I give you mine today

  Today.

  My heart.”

  The song ended. Josh gazed at her once more through the audience, his smile only for her, and then, as the crowd cheered and went crazy with excitement, that smile spread into his famous smirk and he held up a hand, resting his other one on the curve of his guitar. “Wow, you guys are incredible.”

  Fresh screams and cheers filled the club. Josh laughed, waving his hand for silence. “And so good for my ego,” he continued when the noise settled…somewhat.