Reckless Beat Box Set #2

by Eden Summers

  The hardness of his cock throbbed between them, pressing against her pubic bone, plaguing her needy pussy. It was jungle-gym time. She was ready to climb, to scamper, to scratch and claw.

  “For months, I’ve thought about what it would’ve been like to kiss you.” His breath teased her mouth, his dark eyes peering at her with intensity.

  “Was it—”

  “Still trying to prove you’re not gay, pin-dick?” The feminine call echoed off the walls. “Get a room, would you? I hear they charge by the hour at the sleazy hotel around the corner.”

  Logan closed his eyes briefly, then turned his attention to the Goth girl glaring from her position bathed in light at the end of the hall. “Do you think they’d give me your bulk discount if I mention your name?”

  “Blow me,” she muttered and disappeared into the open doorway.

  Logan chuckled and pressed his forehead against Leah’s.

  “Are you ready to go?” he asked, completely ignoring the sexual tension between him and his colleague.

  “Yeah…” She frowned. He knew the woman was wet for him, right? After the two brief encounters she’d witnessed, there was no denying it. “Are you sure you don’t need to speak to her first?”

  “No.” He pulled back. “Why?”

  He was clueless. One-hundred percent, blindingly oblivious to the fact the other woman had soggy panties for him.

  “No reason, I guess.” Who was she to play matchmaker? More importantly, who was she to deny the one and only weekend of pleasure she’d allowed herself in years? “Let’s do this.”

  “And by this you mean spend the weekend naked and at my mercy.”

  “No.” She brushed her lips over his. “By this I mean let’s go to your place and see if you’ve got what it takes to keep me around for more than one night.”

  Chapter Four

  “How long is the drive to your house?”

  Logan grinned and reached across the bench seat of his truck to grab her hand, the soft hum of the radio murmuring between them. “Long enough for you to get comfortable and tell me a little about yourself.” He focused on the road, his fingers entwining with hers, his sexual hold seeping under her skin.

  “I said no questions, remember?”

  “So I can’t learn anything about you? Not even what you do in your spare time? Your hobbies? Your family?”

  “No.” She shook her head. Everything revolved around Reckless Beat. The concept of spare time was a whimsical fantasy she didn’t understand. She had no hobbies. There was no schedule outside of managing the band. And those five world-famous men were her family. “I don’t have a life outside of my career. I’m always working my ass off.”

  “What about movies? Books? Music?”

  She released a derisive chuckle and shook her head again. “Next question.”

  “Well, this is going to be a quiet trip.”

  Quiet she could handle. It was the memories of Ryan that filled her with regret and made it hard to forgive herself. She’d been strong for years, suppressing everything she felt for him, because she wouldn’t risk meddling in his marriage. Not only that, the legal stipulations in her employment contract stated she wasn’t allowed to get involved with clients. She wasn’t allowed to love him. Even though she did.

  But from the moment they met, she’d struggled to stop the prohibited emotions. He was an admirable man—through his commitment to his wife, his artistic talent, and the sweet-natured way he treated all those around him.

  It didn’t matter that his wife, Julie, had made him bitter. Or angry. Or a verging alcoholic. The Ryan Leah had fallen in love with was still there. He was just hiding from the hurt. Shielding himself through liquor, like she seemed to be shielding herself through sex.

  “What about you?” She blinked away the thoughts of Ryan and concentrated on a tempting set of green eyes. “Why don’t you give me all the gory details about your life?”

  “Nah.” He screwed up his nose and shook his head. “You’ve got this sexy, mysterious thing going. I think I might try for the same.”

  “That’s fair.” She was all for equal rights. “Honestly, I didn’t come here because I thought you were an accomplished conversationalist.”

  He chuckled. “That’s right. You came back for my piercing skills.”

  “Exactly.” She rubbed her thumb over the side of his hand, ramping up her libido from the slightest friction of their skin. “Your attention to detail is quite an enviable talent.”

  “You ain’t seen nothing yet, gorgeous.” She believed him. Her pussy believed him. “But don’t think for one second that I’m that hospitable with everyone.”

  “Just the ladies?” Her thumb paused. All of her did. Her whole body was attuned, waiting for his response.

  “Only the flawless ones.”

  Bam. He’d teased her heart right out of her chest, and it was hard to breathe without it. A retort was poised on the tip of her tongue. A rebuttal to insult his opinion of flawlessness, but she bit back the words.

  “You don’t get complimented often, do you?”

  She gave a derisive laugh. “Why do you ask?”

  “Because instead of smiling, whenever I take a shot at flattery, you frown.”

  Wow. She was transparent. “I work with five men. All of them exceedingly attractive, wealthy, and talented. And four of them are nauseatingly flirtatious. I’ve spent years batting away their compliments, and I guess I’ve grown to resent their fake admiration.”

  “What about the fifth guy? Is he the married one?”

  She shook her head. “I’m not going there.”

  “Right…” He directed his sigh at the road ahead.

  Right. This wasn’t working. He was meant to be a distraction from Ryan, not someone to instigate conversation about him. If she wanted to spend her hours thinking about the rhythm guitarist, she could’ve continued to do that back in her hotel room…with her vibrator…and no need for humiliating conversation.

  “Take off your panties.”

  She balked, abruptly ripped out of her mental musings. “Excuse me?”

  He smirked, still staring straight ahead. “You heard me. Take them off.” Humor-tinged cockiness filled his words, but there was also an underlying aggression. A barely audible demand that caused her stomach to flip-flop and her focus to stand at attention.

  “Who says I’m wearing any?”

  “I do.” He reached for the radio and turned off the soft hum of music. “I couldn’t tear my focus away from your ass as you sauntered for my truck. I know you’re wearing a G-string. A bare scrap of material. Probably lace. Or silk. Something sexy, because even though you don’t get laid enough, you still like the feel of pretty things against your pussy.”

  Said pussy apparently enjoyed his appraisal, because the needy parts of her were fluttering like a butterfly on crack. “That’s a very thorough assumption.”

  “Prove me wrong.”

  She wished she could. Instead, she grinned and planted her feet on the floor as she hitched her ass off the seat. Slowly, she shimmied her skirt higher up her thighs, not baring everything, only exposing enough skin to allow the tips of her fingers to grasp her underwear and pull it down her legs.

  As the red lace G-string came into view, he began to chuckle, a deep, melodic sound she was proud of inciting. He truly was a delicious man—hot, seductive, and charming. The only thing he wasn’t, was Ryan.

  “You’re predictable, Leah.” He clucked his tongue in admonishment. “You really should do something about that.”

  Really? Predictable? Yeah, maybe she should do something about that. “Well, I hate to disappoint.” She spun her panties on her index finger then flung them at him. They hit the side of his face and slithered down his chest to rest on his lap. “I wonder what I’d have to do to shock you.”

  She turned her body toward him and leaned her back against the door. She waited for him to glance her way, to drag his gaze from the road, before she raised one hee
l-covered foot and placed it up on the bench seat. With the quirk of her brow, she flattened her other heel on the floor of the car, spreading her legs and exposing bare, heated flesh.

  “Fucking hell.” He cleared his throat and wiped a hand over his mouth, grasping the steering wheel in a white-knuckled grip.

  “How far away did you say your house was?”

  “I didn’t,” he growled.

  The car revved harder, the weight of acceleration pushing her shoulder against the seat. She pressed her lips together, fighting a laugh as she kicked off her shoe and ran the tips of her toes over his crotch.

  He was hard, the length of his erection pressing against the zipper of his jeans, the strength of his cock a mouth-watering temptation. He shot her a warning glance, his gaze diverting lower to her pussy before he hissed in a breath and focused back on the road.

  “You must really be hating my predictability,” she cooed.

  His jaw ticked. “Five minutes.”

  “Make it three and I promise not to come before we get there.” She skimmed a hand over her stomach, her abdomen, then lower, under her skirt to the pounding throb of her clit. She flicked the piercing he’d given her all those months ago and squeezed the bundle of nerves between her fingers.

  “OK, I take it back.” He muttered a string of curse words that inspired a smile she couldn’t contain. “You’re not predictable… Fucking beautiful, yes. But far from predictable.”

  She released a breathy chuckle, deliberately turning it into a moan as her fingers parted her pussy lips.

  “Jesus fucking Christ, Leah.” The car sped up. “Do you want us to wreck? There’s no way I can keep my focus on the road while you’re doing that.”

  “I have faith in you.” The streets were quiet out here. Like any normal suburban area past midnight.

  The growl came again, the deep rumble vibrating through her, all the way to her sex.

  “At least let me have a taste,” he demanded.

  “Do you think you deserve it?”

  He laughed, a humorless, feral sound that made her nipples tighten. “Do you know what I do better than piercings and ink?”

  She shook her head and moaned as she sank a finger into her heat, the walls of her pussy clamping down on the digit.

  “Retaliation.” He slammed his palm against the steering wheel. “And I do it well, Leah.”

  She licked her lips and smiled. “I look forward to it.”

  There went that delicious growl again. He flung out a hand, grabbed her wrist and raised it to his lips. He sucked her glistening finger into his mouth, the warm metal of his tongue jewelry flicking over her fingertip.

  “How long now?” They had to be close to his place. They needed to be close.

  He shut his eyes, one hand still on the steering wheel, the other gently gripping her wrist as his tongue continued to lick every ounce of her arousal from her finger.

  “Logan?”

  He met her gaze, scraped his teeth over her skin as he dragged her digit from his mouth. “My street is up ahead.”

  His hold loosened, the delicate glide of his touch skimming over her skin as he dragged his hand away, placing it back on the steering wheel. Her chest pounded. Bam-bam, bam-bam, bam-bam. The sound of his heavy breathing became hard to hear over her own shaky inhalations.

  “This is my street.” He took the corner, barely breaking. “Ten houses to go. Six. Five. Four.”

  Her smile widened with each number. She had already figured out which house was his. The small building. Quaint. With the glow of a television filtering through the thin curtains.

  “Shit.” He took the drive without slowing, the truck jolting her from side to side as he pulled to a quick stop.

  “What?” She followed his gaze to the yard, to the motorcycle parked on the grass near the steps leading to the front door.

  “We’ve got company.” He cut the ignition. “Sorry, gorgeous. We might have to put a brief hold on those plans.”

  Brief hold? Brief hold! Was he kidding? That was like sitting a coffee in front of a caffeine addict and telling them not to drink. Alcohol in front of an underage teen. Food in front of the homeless.

  “Is it someone I should be worried about?” Because honestly, unless the visitor was a convicted felon, there was little else that could deter the lubricated, contracting parts of her body.

  “No. I have a few friends who treat my place like a second home whenever they pass through. It just means we won’t be alone tonight.” He raked a hand through his hair and expelled a heavy breath. “Do you want me to take you back to the city?

  Fuck no, her pussy screamed. But the slightest nudge of self-preservation reared its ugly head. “Should I go?”

  His hands slid from the steering wheel as he sank into the driver’s seat. A brief flicker of apprehension ignited in her chest, right before his green-eyed gaze hit her and the seductive curl of his lips washed away all concerns.

  “If you stay, we’ll make sure you have a good time.”

  Chapter Five

  Logan shut the front door behind her and kicked off his boots. “Nice of you to drop by, old friend.”

  Leah stepped back, trying to hover in the shadows as a light-brown head of hair popped up from the back of a well-loved recliner.

  “Fuck me.” The man fumbled, dropping his head as he tripped over his feet, and worked to right himself. He stumbled out of view, his face disappearing behind Logan’s frame as the two men embraced in a bear hug.

  She side-stepped, curious, trying to catch a glimpse of the man who had hair to his shoulders and a lean, muscled body beneath his loose tank. The moment he stepped back, the very second his gaze caught sight of her, time stopped. She whimpered. Cursed under her breath. Bit her tongue until the sting of pain became too much.

  “Leah, this is Cole.”

  No. It wasn’t. It was Ryan. Where Logan only bore the same dark irises of the man she adored, this man, this stranger, held everything else. The beard, the light-brown hair falling on strong shoulders, the generous lips. The face shape may be different. The eyes brown not deep blue. But this man was still too similar to Ryan for her heart not to notice.

  Fuck.

  “Hey, Leah.”

  The fantasy strode toward her, outstretching a welcoming hand. A warm, solid hand that she grasped for a little longer than necessary.

  She stared into those eyes, the dark chocolate narrowed from scrutiny.

  “Do you want me to hit the road?” He released his grip and turned to Logan. “I don’t want to spoil whatever you have planned.”

  “No. It’s OK.” It was a mistake. Her words. Her interest. The fact she couldn’t tear her gaze from him. “We didn’t have plans.”

  Logan shot her a scowl. “We didn’t?”

  He stalked forward, making her backtrack into the wall. His narrowed eyes held her hostage. He brushed his hand through her hair, cupped her face like a boyfriend cups his beloved. “What are you doing?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Bullshit. We had plans, Leah. You know we did.” His scowl deepened, his focus reading her. “Why are you backing out?”

  “I’m not backing out.” She shook her head. “Just changing direction. Cole is an old friend. I’m nobody. Nothing. I don’t want to get in the way of the two of you catching up.”

  His nostrils flared, his grip tightened on her face, then his lips were on hers. Harsh. Unforgiving. “You’re not nothing.” He kissed her again, rough and fierce and greedy as hell. “You were going to be everything tonight.”

  She couldn’t look at him, couldn’t meet those eyes when the man on her mind was someone different. Someone other than Logan.

  “The night’s not over,” she whispered. “Why don’t we sit and watch the end of the movie with Cole. We’ll see what happens after that.”

  She made to walk away, to enter the living room and pretend like her heart hadn’t climbed into her throat, and her nipples weren’t on fire.

&nbs
p; Logan grabbed her wrist, held it, and leaned toward her ear. “I know what will happen after. We both do.”

  * * *

  Movie night, or early morning, wasn’t what she expected. Being snuggled into the side of a visually harsh man, who was already more affectionate than any of her past lovers, was an unfamiliar sensation. It was soothing. Reassuring. Pacifying the annoyance she held with herself, and wrapping it up in a tight bundle of strong arms and heavenly scents.

  “Are you comfortable?” he murmured against her hair.

  She nodded. Oh, so comfortable.

  The room was dim, the glare from the television the only thing highlighting the three bodies in the room. Cole sat in the recliner directly opposite her position on the couch, his attention focused on whatever action flick played on screen.

  She hadn’t been able to stop looking at him. It had become a game—pointing out the differences between him and Ryan. Cole had darker skin, a slightly thinner frame, less emotion in his features, fewer laugh lines.

  “Why don’t you come sit on my lap and get more comfortable?”

  She glanced over her shoulder, to the heat flaring in Logan’s eyes. He focused on her with the same intensity she’d been showing his friend—strong, unwavering, and devoted. There was something undeniable about this man. Something in his stony expression, in the way his green irises said everything she needed to know and made her want to please him.

  She toed off her shoes, her gaze still fixed to his, and crawled onto his lap.

  “Better?” he murmured against her ear.

  She wasn’t sure if he referred to the erection nestled under her ass, the heat of his hard, muscled body, or the affectionate way his arm now rested around her waist. But all of it was better. Much, much better.

  “Definitely.” She sank into his chest, snuggling her head into his neck.