by Quinn, Cari
Her vision blurred when he dipped two fingers inside her. She rolled her hips in time with his thrusts wanting more. Needing more.
His name was a stunned whisper as the first orgasm choked her. He dragged her against him, his relentless thumb that same metronome from the stage, steady pressure with no end in sight. She strained up on her toes, her back arching as the flash of pleasure sizzled into a sweet pain she couldn’t breathe through.
The snap of latex reverberated in her chest. “Yes. Yes, now.”
He brought his arm around her waist, and then the blunt end of his cock was pushing in between her thighs and finally where she needed it. She clamped down on him as he crouched behind her.
Damn height difference.
His thrusts were too shallow. She lifted one foot and found another crevice in the rock face. There. “God, yes,” she moaned as he finally filled her. “More,” she sobbed. “I need…”
He slapped his hand against the wall beside her neck and lifted her off her toes. His arm braced her as he slammed inside her again and again.
The scream built inside her so fast she couldn’t find breath, words, or a way to hold it back. She turned her cheek in and found his forearm. She hoped to God his skin muffled some of it, but at that point, she just didn’t care.
He enveloped her, railing his cock into her like they were made to come together like this. Power and strength, matched in ways she’d never thought were possible. He curved around her, his shoulder jammed up against the wall as he cradled her but he never stopped.
And when his fingers found her, she let herself fall. She tipped her head back against his chest. The night, the lights, the ocean scent of him swirled inside her until she felt as bright as the stars above them.
A moment later, those fingers dug around her thigh and held her open for him. And he followed her. Her world slowed, the stars winked into her vision, and Deacon’s arms never let her go.
He slid up her thigh, brushing his knuckles across her still throbbing pussy before he wrapped both arms around her, his cheek resting against hers. Life intruded with voices and music, lights, and the hiss of hydraulics. But she couldn’t quite give up the closeness.
Not yet.
Thank God he didn’t seem to be able to either.
* * *
He was pretty sure he had the exact outline of the rock face embedded into his hand and hip. Her cornsilk soft hair slid around the neckline of his t-shirt and he was still buried inside her.
Hell, he was hardening again. The wildness of her and the outdoor arena paired with the almost two days they’d been apart left him off balance. Just once, he wondered if he could be gentle with her.
A whisper from Harper that she needed more, and he lost his fucking head. For fuck’s sake, he’d nailed her into the goddamn rock face. And the worst part was he didn’t want to step back.
A shimmer of a voice in the back of his head prodded for more. To see if he could do it again, push her harder, demand more.
He slid his palm along her velvet soft belly, sliding his pinkie back down into the crease of her pussy. He stroked around the distended flesh just under her hood. His cock hardened further as she shuddered.
With teeth grazing against her jaw and his cock already on board for round two, he wanted to follow her down the rabbit hole again. Because there was nothing but madness when he got inside of Harper Pruitt.
And he was certainly grinning like the Cheshire cat when he was done with her.
Rational Deacon reared up and knocked. Condoms were for one use, rocks weren’t a bed, and they could be found out by the reporters that were slinking around. He wanted to ignore all of that.
He wanted to rip off the fucking condom and take her bare. He wanted to feel every tissue inside of her open and sliding around him. He wanted to bury himself in her heat until there was nothing left of him.
He slid out and then back inside her. Her moan buzzed through his chest and his pinkie had yet to stop stroking her. Barely aware of the fact that his body was attuned to her, he could have massaged around her clit for an hour.
“Deacon.”
Her broken whisper should have brought responsible Deacon back out, but it just stuffed him down further. Instead, he curved his fingers down and opened her wider so he could tap the top of her clit and circle it rhythmically. She was the perfect sheath for him.
Each time he tapped, she jerked and her teeth bit into his arm. The haze of lust had faded and he simply enjoyed her without the violence crowding his brain. He found the spots that pleasured her and circumvented the places that gave him no response.
The harder he pressed, the more she bucked. The deeper he plunged, the more she urged him for more. He gritted his teeth as her pleasure clasped around him.
Her head rolled along his chest, and her body bowed until he almost slipped out of her. He pulled his hand off the rock and used his shoulder to shield her. Need flooded his brain, and he gripped her hip to angle her for the best fit.
She gripped his neck and his hair, dragging him down to her neck. Hiccupping cries turned to an outright sob, and he held her tighter.
Her nails bit into his wrist as she tried to stop his fingers.
“Too much,” she said shakily.
He pulled her flush to his chest even as his thighs burned at the angle he had to find to get inside her. She soaked his hand, and he knew if he looked down at where they were joined, her lips would be the same hectic color as her cheeks.
Fuck, he wanted a bed to splay her out on and lick her for hours. He wanted her thighs wrapped around his ears until all he could feel was her heartbeat under his tongue when she exploded.
He wanted to own each and every shout that she was stuffing down inside of her now. And when her voice broke, and his name stuttered off her lips, he hung on. He pumped inside of her and stilled.
She vised his cock and he threw his head back with a groan of his own as he came again. The condom was full to bursting, and he was a damn mess, but he was lodged inside of her and there was nowhere he’d rather be.
When she shuddered against him, this time from a chill, he finally pulled from her and tied off the condom. He glanced around the little cove they’d found for themselves. Miracle of miracles, they were still alone. After tucking himself back into his jeans with a wince, he pulled her skirt down. He kissed the slice of skin that showed at the base of her spine, turned her, and did the same to her belly. He stared up at her.
Starlight cloaked them, and he wished he could see what was going on in her eyes. She was so quiet. But then her fingers slid into his hair, and he could taste her smile on the breeze. He stood, pulling her close.
“I missed you.”
The puff of air against his chest was her only response, but considering she dragged him away from the crowd and down here, he was pretty sure she felt the same way.
“Come back to the bus with me.”
She tipped her head up and again, he could feel her grin. “I had no idea you were so insatiable.”
“And I had no idea you were so lawless. Doesn’t change the fact that I want you in my arms tonight.”
“Lawless?”
“Every single time I’ve been inside you, we’ve been outside.”
“Oh.” She pressed her cheek to his chest. “I guess that’s true.”
As much as he loved her wildness, he wanted to go slow with her tonight. He didn’t want to hurry in the shadows any more. “I want to hold you tonight.”
“Okay.”
Her voice was quiet, almost tentative. So unlike the Harper he was used to. Did she feel it, too? That the night was different. That they were different?
He curled his fingers into hers and drew her down the path to where the busses were stashed. The shows were still raging, and the music pulsed in the air. Now it felt distant. He wanted the distance from his friends, the music scene, the people.
The stage had been a heady mix of terror and elation. It was exactly how he felt
with Harper. Terror that she was going to slip away, and elation that he’d found her.
He wanted to hold both of them tonight until the memory was fused to him like his tattoo. Without words, they hiked the asphalt hill cut into the beauty that was Red Rock.
The bus was dark, just the running lights up the middle on so they didn’t kill themselves when they got back. Joe was gone, enjoying the show as the rest of them would.
Her fingers tightened on his as they went deeper into the bus. The swish of a curtain and thud of shoes surprised him. “Who’s here?”
A sliver of light cut through the piles of laundry strewn across the floor as someone came out of the bathroom. “Gray.”
“You bunking down?” Deacon tried to push the disappointment out of his voice. He lived with four other people. He couldn’t be pissed if they wanted time on the bus.
But he wasn’t like Simon. He didn’t want an audience tonight. At least for a little while.
“Nah, just wanted to get cleaned up a little. I’m going out to listen to Mumford.”
“That’s going to be a killer set, I bet.”
Gray’s eyes glittered in the near darkness. “There’s always another show, not always another girl.”
Harper slid her fingers around his forearm. “Hi, Gray.”
“Chef girl.”
Deacon felt her smile against his skin. He pulled her in front of him and rested his chin on her head. “Think you can send out the all good for a few hours?”
Gray bounced on the balls of his feet. Adrenaline must still be spiking through him. It was hard to shut off after a show. Emptying some of that tension into Harper had helped, but he already felt it welling inside him again. “You got it, Deak.”
And just like that, they were alone. Deacon kicked the worst of the laundry away from his bunk. He didn’t want guy funk ruining what little alone time they could wrangle. He held up a finger and leaned into the bathroom for the jar candle Jazz had bought.
He lit it and set it on the small storage bin built into the space next to the bathroom door. The flicker of flame and scent of clean sheets banished the shadows and let him imagine a better scenario for them, a room just for them instead of a cramped bus. Candlelight suited Harper. Her sunny hair glinted in the low light and the sweep of her lashes hid her blue eyes.
She stood in front of him, lifted the bottom of her shirt, and dropped it to the floor. Next came her skirt and then her bra. He watched the firelight accentuate the high rise of her ribs, the blush pink tip of perfect breasts, the curve of her shoulder, the little point at the end of her chin.
He sucked in a breath as she lifted her hands to cup her breasts, then trailed the tips of her fingers over her ribs to the flair of her hips. She slowly rolled down her panties and flicked them into the pile she’d made.
She stepped forward and did the same to him. Gliding fingers and unhurried movements were exactly what the night required. Maybe she knew it, too.
She knelt at his feet, pulling one foot and then the other out of the cluster of denim and shoes. The light rake of her nails followed up his calves to the back of his knees and around to his inner thigh.
His cock stood proud in the candlelight, already stiff to the point of aching. He hissed as she nuzzled along the underside of his shaft. A tiny flick of her wet tongue pushed him too close to the edge.
He couldn’t have her mouth around him right now. Tonight needed to be about her. Finally, he had a moment where he didn’t have to hurry, didn’t have to watch out for interruptions or storms, and he certainly didn’t have to curb his needs.
He twined his fingers in hers before she could circle his cock. Being at her mercy would put a halt to his plans. He pulled her to her feet, shuffled her back to his bunk, and rolled her inside.
She opened her mouth, but he shushed her with a finger to her lips. He leaned up over her and flicked on his ancient iPod in its docking station. The lilting guitars were a welcome backdrop.
Taking care to seduce Harper was another new experience. He curled his arm under her and settled her down in the bunk. Her hair fanned across his pillow and her feline eyes were steady on him.
He brushed a kiss across her forehead, over each closed eyelid, her cheeks, and hovered over her mouth. Each time she breathed out, he took it deep into his lungs.
He nudged her thighs open, groaning at her softness surrounding him. His hard cock pressed into her soft belly, his chest into her generous breasts, and finally his forearms braced around her arms.
For a moment, he simply rested against her. Her eyes were open and ridiculously blue. Like the channel of water that lapped against the beaches of Galveston, they were deep and crystal clear. She watched him as he kissed her.
Her even breath shuddered lightly just before she surrendered. He deepened the kiss, exploring her with a patience he didn’t think he had inside him. A lazy slide of tongues and the sweet nip of teeth over lips heated his blood slowly. She shifted restlessly under him, her fingertips grazing over his back lightly.
He scraped his teeth over her chin and down the column of her throat. He felt the flutter of her pulse under his tongue as he sucked there. She hissed as he nipped just a little harder. The bright bloom of red would be a bruise.
In return, her nails went from skim to score on his ribs. He rose over her, dragging his chest hair over her smooth skin. The heated tips of her breasts burned his skin. He moved down to capture a tip, sucking deeply.
She hiked her thigh up over his hip until the head of his cock slid through her wetness. It took everything inside him not to slide in and feel her clasp around him. The memory of her mouth around his cock, the warm wetness, and her incessant suction made his hips flex.
Her hand slid down to his ass, fingernails scoring there, too. No matter how she nipped and bit into him, he would give her gentleness tonight. She revved him up, twisted him into mindless knots, but not tonight.
Tonight, she’d be the one that had to accept the sweet and the loving. He’d show her more than just the sex between them. There was more brewing inside him, more that he wanted to share with her.
And none of that included running head on into traffic. There was a time and place for the wild, careening ride over the cliff. He wanted to give her the soft. He wanted to give her everything.
Compelling and scary as fuck, but the emotions wouldn’t be denied. They bubbled up his throat, demanding a release. No matter how much she wanted to ignore that side of them, he knew it was waiting inside him.
Her hands moved to his hair, twisting at the root to hold him tighter as he tasted the delicate underside of her breast and breathed over the raspberry red tips. Golden skin and a banquet of flushed pink skin glowed softly in the flickering shadows of his bunk.
He couldn’t wait to taste all of her.
He moved lower, his feet crowding at the bottom of the bunk as he coasted over her ribs to the shallow concave of her belly. She twisted his hair harder to pull him back up.
He didn’t listen. He simply drew in her scent as he brushed his nose across the tiny triangle of hair above her pussy. She smelled of outdoors, of sex, of sunshine, and of him. He grazed his lips over the peach soft skin and into the hollow where thigh met center. He pressed his cheek against her thigh, rubbing his beard across the sensitive skin then sucking on the skin there. Another mark in that sweet, sweet flesh. She arched off his mattress.
Opening her wide, he flicked the tip of his tongue into the lingering wetness and then went for her other thigh. He lightly scraped his nails over the tissue-fine skin before returning to her center.
Raspberry, flushed lips matched her nipples and her mouth. Fuck, she was so incredibly perfect. Saliva pooled in his mouth. He wanted her taste on his tongue. He locked his gaze with hers as he sealed his lips over her. He hooked his arms around her thighs and held her there for him.
A deep intake of breath and the most amazing moan shuddered through her and buzzed under his tongue. The need to give and
take from her until she was screaming urged him faster, but he forced himself to slow.
He didn’t want that beast in bed with them now. He just wanted her. Even when every instinct burned in his chest to push her for more, he eased back and licked lightly. Earthy sweetness bloomed, and he drank from her.
She pushed a lock of hair away from his face and gently tucked it behind his ear. Her eyes were lake blue, dark with a mellow sort of happiness he’d never seen before. Loathe to pull his mouth away from her, he dug deeper. High on the taste of her, he licked lazily.
When her chin tipped up and her back arched, he reached up to palm her breast. He brought his thumb into play, keeping her clit hard as he plucked lightly at one nipple and then the other. Writhing beneath him, she made soft little sounds that would forever be etched into his memory.
And through it all, there were no words. Just her moans and sighs and a Candlebox song that was never leaving his playlist. Ever. She slapped the roof of his bunk, and a strangled moan shuddered through her body.
Finally, he couldn’t hold back any longer. He slid up her body and unearthed the condoms he kept stuffed in the corner of his bunk. Someday, he wouldn’t need a barrier between them. He promised himself then and there that someday, she’d be the first person he slid inside bare.
For now, he would take all that she had to give. And when he plunged inside her, she closed around him—legs, arms, cheek to cheek, until there was nothing between them but skin. He slowly rolled his hips into the welcoming warmth of her. They moved as one. Sinewy, pale gold skin and sweat, lips heavy with murmured sighs, and Harper clasping him so tight.
In her arms is where he was meant to be. And the chaos in his mind ebbed and flowed with lust and the heady first blush of emotion. She filled him up, made him ache, and when her surrender came this time, it was soft and sweet.
Eighteen
August 23, 3:23 AM - Bus Full of Idiots
Harper woke to find herself draped over a heater. The candle had snuffed itself out sometime between orgasm one and eight. Sweet Pete, Deacon knew just how to bulldoze a woman.