Love Ever After: Eleven All-New Romances!

by Nina Lane

  “What’s up, Violin Girl?”

  “I talked with Lila a lot last night and then this morning when the emotional wine-induced insanity was over.”

  “I had whiskey. I paid this morning. Even a prayer to the porcelain gods to start off the day.”

  She winced. “Yeah, that’s not good for the cords.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  Guilt gnawed at her. “I’m sorry I contributed to that.”

  “I pushed it too hard at practice. The more I pushed, the more I fell back on old habits and the worse it got.”

  She pressed her cheek to his arm and leaned into him. “I know.” And all that anger had brought their original fight to the forefront all over again.

  “I made an appointment with Jerry for a session tomorrow.”

  “Good.”

  He pressed an absent kiss to her temple just as the crosswalk burst to life and traffic let them pass. He jangled his key against the ring he was wearing.

  “When did you get that?”

  He frowned. “Get what?”

  She laughed. “The ring.”

  “Oh, shit. I forgot to take it off.”

  She switched sides with him so she could hold his right hand with the ring on it. It was a large, square onyx with an R in the center in Roman’s stylized font. “It’s kind of hot. I’d prefer an S there though.”

  He grinned at her. “That can be arranged.” They got to his car and he opened the door. He caged her in and bent down as she did to get into the car. The kiss was sweet and soft and ended with that smirky smile that had caught her attention that first day in the studio.

  He’d been so smug and full of cocky bravado, but she still hadn’t been able to dismiss him. No matter how hard she tried, he’d gotten under her skin and she’d been done for. She grinned back up at him before he closed the door and rounded the front of the car. He got in and hit the ignition. The Audi’s engine roared to life and he slammed it into gear, peeling out into traffic when there was an opening.

  She played with his fingers on the gear shift. “Do you remember that day in the studio—that first day?”

  He waggled his eyebrows. “Oh yeah. It was that purple Starfish that got me first. I saw all those traditional instruments packed away in their boring black cases. Not even a scuff mark on half of them. But then there was your bright purple violin sitting on that folding chair.” He flattened his hand on his chest. “Then you walked in and I was gonzo.”

  “Me too.”

  “You hated me on sight.”

  “Maybe a little.”

  “Well except for your girl parts.” He leaned over and nipped at her neck. “Your girl parts were on fiyah for me from the start.”

  “You’re a pig.”

  “I’m your pig.”

  She scrunched down in her seat and turned toward him. “Yeah, you are.”

  He took their joined hands and brought her wrist up to his mouth. He dragged his teeth along the skin, then followed it with a flash of tongue and a brush of his lips. “So why the serious face?”

  “You know how I said there was some stuff I wanted to say without an audience?”

  “You can tell me anything. It’s not going to change how I feel about you. Well, unless you’re dumping me and then things are going to get ugly and I’m going to try and change your mind. Then your ankles will end up over your head as I make you realize that there’s no way we’re ever breaking up.”

  Her heart slammed against her chest. “Sex isn’t the answer.”

  “It’s a good argument though.”

  She laughed and laced their fingers. “No. I’m not going anywhere. But there’s a reason I’m a bit…”

  “Jealous?”

  “A bit more than that.”

  He nodded. “I noticed. I assumed someone cheated on you. But no matter what I’ve been, Margo—I’ve never been a cheater. It’s more like no other woman has ever mattered enough to make me want more than a few nights of fun. You’re the first. You’re the only as far as I’m concerned.”

  She swallowed and damn her eyes for misting again. Hadn’t she cried enough the night before? “No, I’ve never been cheated on.” She cleared her throat. “But my mom has.”

  He was quiet a moment. “Well, fuck. I’m sorry, baby.” He untwisted their grasp to slip his fingers along the nape of her neck. “That’s crap. Your dad?”

  She forced herself to meet his eyes. “Yeah. The worst part is that they’re still together. He just keeps a woman on the side—usually more than one. He says he loves my mother. And God knows she doesn’t make things easy for anyone. The Reece name is everything as far as she’s concerned. She married into the long Bostonian history of it with a purpose. And that’s all that matters to her.”

  “Or, that’s all she’ll show you that matters.”

  Margo frowned. She’d never thought of it that way. Again, everyone else seemed to have a different insight into her family than she did. He massaged the back of her head until she leaned into him over the console. “Maybe that’s part of it. But she’s all about appearances. I don’t know who I hate more—her for putting up with it or him for sleeping around.”

  “So we both have crap in our backgrounds. My old man was pretty much a stain on the world, but he stuck around. Used me as a punching bag until I learned to duck.”

  She sat up and met his gaze. “Simon.”

  He shrugged. “As I said, I learned to duck. Kids from Carson learned to fend for themselves. My mom split when I was…maybe four? I don’t really remember her.”

  As much as her mother drove her crazy, she couldn’t imagine not having one. She brought her hand up to his face and lightly dragged the backs of her fingers along his jaw. “And here I am bitching about my home life.”

  He ducked his chin until he could kiss her fingers. “To you, that was the worst thing ever. I met Nick and managed to stay out of my old man’s way more than within the reach of his fists. I found music in high school. Was the only thing I gave a damn about.” He entered the ramp for the freeway to get them back home. As usual it was a bottleneck of cars to get on. He turned to her. “Until you.”

  “Oh, Simon. Is it any wonder that I love you so much I’m crazy with it?”

  “Makes two of us.” He leaned over and kissed her gently. “No matter what happens with us, you can rely on one thing. I’ll never cheat. I’d never intentionally fuck up our relationship. I’m no saint. I’m never going to be a Deacon type, or even a Gray type.”

  “I don’t want them.” She didn’t have to think, or even mull that over. It had always been Simon.

  “Good. Because you’ve got me. And I’m not letting you go.”

  The relief washed over her like ocean spray at the pier. Allowing the rightness of them to finally sink under her skin and inside of her.

  He accelerated into traffic and they shot down the passing lane.

  And for the first time ever, she held onto the handle at his speed. The thrill of it surged into her bloodstream. She leaned into him, her hand on his belly.

  “Fuck. Don’t start that. I’m already breaking two different laws.”

  She glanced down at the speedometer. “Naughty Simon—reckless driving and speeding?”

  “I need to get home because I need to be inside you.”

  Her hand slid lower and she smiled into his neck as he groaned. “I’ve missed you, Simon.”

  “I’ve been here the whole time, babe.”

  “It feels like we haven’t been us in a very long time.”

  “And I intend to change that in exactly…” He glanced at the dash. “Eight minutes.”

  Her hand slid lower to cup him through his jeans. “Wonder how good your reflexes are at this speed?”

  “You’re going to be the death of me.” He groaned. “Who’d have thought my girl would get off on speed?”

  Oh, she did. She so did. She focused on the speedometer. “Keep it at eight-two.” She found the tab of his zipper and pu
lled it down. “Steady, Singer Boy.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Jesus fuck.

  Simon’s foot itched to tap on the accelerator just a touch more. Another three minutes shaved off their drive would make sure he didn’t come in his goddamn jeans. Her soft, lightly callused fingertips dipped inside his zipper and curled around his shaft. Her breath was warm on his neck and he wished to fuck it was steaming up his dick instead.

  “Goddammit,” he muttered as traffic came to a standstill.

  She curled herself lower and glanced up at him with a teasing grin before her tongue lashed over the tip of his cock.

  “You are playing with fire.”

  Instead of answering, she covered the head and guided him deeper with a long, slow tongue massage. When he swore, she hummed around his shaft and sucked. His hand hovered over the back of her head. Of all the ways they’d been together over the last year, car sex hadn’t been added to their repertoire. Especially car sex at maximum speeds.

  When she slid him in deeper and twisted with those soft, sure hands, his vision hazed. Finally, he couldn’t take it, and he tangled his fingers in her thick, silky hair. When she hummed in what he hoped was pleasure, he guided her faster. The lazy licks were driving him batshit.

  Her lips glided up his shaft and her tongue curled around and under the ridge before she covered him again. Her tight grip and suction, the lonely night, and worry-filled day coalesced. The base of his spine twinged and burned and her name punctuated his groan. He pulled her hair, hoping she knew the universal language of head because fuck, he wasn’t capable of a sentence.

  She pulled him free, stroking her thumb over his head. “Don’t come. I’m not ready for you to come yet.” She slid low on the base of his cock and tightened her hold. “Wait for me.”

  He stared at the traffic ahead and the dash clock and prayed for a miracle.

  She went from a strong suction to a lazy lick until his abs stopped seizing and his breathing went from gasping curse words to almost even breaths. Her other hand slid under his shirt and up to where his St. Jude medal lay. She idly played with it then moved to his nipple ring.

  “How long?”

  “Too long,” he managed to choke out as she tugged on the silver ring, covering him again.

  She looked up at him, her face makeup free, freckles blooming across the bridge of her nose, and her mouth full of him. Sweet fuck, he was going to fill her goddamn throat in a second.

  She sucked so hard that his cock made a popping sound when she released him. “Well, your recovery time has always been exceptional.”

  Oh, he hoped that was permission, because he was ready to go. She knew his body as well as he did hers and within a few short moments, his head slammed into the headrest as traffic finally opened up. Not the best timing since he was pretty sure his eyeballs were going to explode with the need to come.

  A firm grip and a light touch along his sac and he was gone. Her name was a shout and if anyone was beside them on the freeway, they would officially be seeing his fruition face. “Oh, God.”

  Breath lost, sound nonexistent, and with the happiest cock this side of the equator was his current status when he pulled off the freeway to the straightaway for their apartment.

  She sat up with a self-satisfied smirk on her face before licking the corner of her mouth. She glanced out the window and settled back in her seat. “Oh, we’re almost home.”

  “That little smirk? Yeah, that’ll be gone about three minutes after we get in the door.”

  She gave him a heavy-lidded look with that same smirk pulling at her lips. “We’ll see.”

  He weaved between trucks, around a bus, and finally their highrise apartment building was in sight.

  A delighted belly laugh escaped her followed by gleeful clapping.

  “Spotted the billboard, did you?”

  She grinned. “That’s priceless. I get to wake up to two Simons in the morning now.”

  “I hate you.”

  She laughed even harder as they pulled into the parking garage. She had her seatbelt off before he even touched the gear shift and shot out the door to the elevator. He swore and put the car in park, shut it off, and raced after her. She pulled the elevator key out of her back pocket and gave him a little wave as the door shut in his face.

  “You gotta be fucking kidding me.” The building was created with no access or stops for the elevator so he had to wait until she made it to their floor and the car came back for him.

  Once he’d ridden the elevator to their floor, he stalked down the hall to their door and found it ajar. Her black flats were discarded at the door, her jeans a little farther in. “Margo?”

  Music flooded the apartment. A husky male voice with a distinct country flavor whispered about his girl and the crazy slide into love. He followed her white shirt dripping off the edge of the chair and made his way down the hallway. She stood in the doorway to their bedroom with his Doors shirt on and those red panties that starred in way too many of his fantasies.

  No other girl could fill his mind quite like his Violin Girl.

  The mouthwatering curves of her breasts showed from the ripped out sides of his shirt and she’d fluffed her hair out until she looked as wild as he felt. Music still felt foreign to him. It wasn’t as easy for him to fall into a song as it had once been. But there was no hesitation here. It felt right to go to her with music all around them.

  He shucked his shirt and kicked off his flips, curling his arms around her waist as he lifted her those precious few inches to get her to his mouth. He loved that she was nearly as tall as him. Loved that she was getting comfortable with her body around him. And most of all, he loved that there was an openness in her fathomless dark eyes for the first time.

  That this woman couldn’t understand just how completely in love he was with her astounded him. She smiled into the kiss, her arms tight around his shoulders, her fingers tunneling through his hair. He lifted her higher, until she hovered over him, their lips mere inches away.

  And the song lyrics tumbled out of his mouth for the first time in months. She’d thrown his streaming account on random so the songs were mostly out of date since he’d been avoiding music for so long. But the lyrics were there in his brain. Corey Taylor had been a longtime favorite of his.

  It felt good to sing. To let his voice pour into her mouth. Her breath hitched and he kept going. It was the perfect song. The lyrics were true to them. All the fears he had about his career fading away, that he’d be forgotten, and that she’d been his rock all along. “Pieces” locked into this moment. He’d been built to love her, built for music, and built to hold her up as she’d been supporting him for the last year.

  The first splash of her tears on his face kicked him into action. He met her mouth in a ferocious kiss. Her nails dug into his shoulders, her legs came up and around his hips as he rolled them onto their bed. Clever fingers slipped between them as she inched up the bed. Her toes pushed the loose, ancient jeans off his hips and her fingers curled around his cock.

  She rolled him and straddled his lap. “I had this crazy seduction in mind and then you had to go and break me.”

  He reached up to cup her face. “No breaking.”

  She threw her hair back. “Singing to me. God, now I’m going to expect it all the time.”

  He laughed and rose up to meet her. “Every day.” He pushed up the Doors shirt that would now be forever hers and tossed it across the room. He cupped her breasts, smiling up at her with a nipple between his teeth.

  She hissed out a breath, undulating her hips in that way that made him insane.

  He fell back against the pillows, letting his palms follow her curves to her hips. He slid his thumb down the dip of her flat stomach to the tiny red panties. “Ah, babe,” he whispered. There was a little wet patch just begging for him to stroke. He slid his thumb into the elastic and found her rigid clit. “Is this from sucking me off in the car?”

  Margo’s eyes went wide and h
er lips parted. Her breath hitched as he stroked and circled the slick nub.

  With his other hand, he cupped her face, then swiped his thumb over her lower lip. “It’s so fucking hot that you get wet just from this mouth being on my cock.” Her eyes dilated making his dick so hard. It was trapped between them, and he ached to get inside of her. No matter how amazing her mouth had been, the feel of her pussy closing over his cock was pure nirvana.

  And he needed that.

  Now.

  He rolled the panties off her ass and she stood on the bed, a foot on either side of his thighs. She stared down at him as he slowly rolled them down in time with the next song that played. The beat was sultry, the words filled with lust and heat. She stepped out of them, her magnificent curves on display for him.

  All for him.

  Then she slowly lowered to a crouch, her knees hugging his waist as she balanced with a hand beside his shoulder. She dragged her breasts across his chest, reached between her thighs and guided his sensitive head along her slick opening.

  He groaned as his hips rose to meet her. The pace was slow and measured. The laughter and the love were still there, but it was buried under the song and the way their bodies moved. So instinctively in tune with the beat and each other that when she took him inside, it was as soft and right as the tide coming in. He smoothed his hands up her back until she hovered over him and their eyes met. Skin to skin, breath to breath, the connection burned between them.

  She was his everything—the love he’d been searching for all his life and his musical other half. Any fears she had that he’d want anyone else would be laid to rest day after day, year after year. He didn’t mind showing her that for the rest of his days.

  He sat up, bringing her tighter into his body so that there were no spaces. Nothing but skin and his body fitting hers like it had been created for him. She wrapped herself around him and he did the same as they slowly rocked into the blurry gray of pleasure and connection. Instead of flinching away from it, she stayed with him.

  Her lips met his, his name a sigh between them.