by Jaye Ripley
“Let me in,” insists Bethany. She pushes her way in and shuts the door. “Um, you nekkid, girlie. That was fast. What, is he like a one-second man or something?”
I roll my eyes. “No. He surprised me. Then in my confused stupor, I stripped the clothes off myself. Can’t remember why, really. Although I did enjoy making his jaw drop.”
Bethany brushes out her hair. “Mel, I think it’s okay if you let yourself like him. He’s a pretty good guy.”
“Because he’s the lead singer to the band?” I take over the brush and finish working through her tangled hair while she applies a light layer of mascara.
She adds a nude lip gloss and smacks her lips. “Nope. Because he showed up at our doorstep this morning with flowers and chocolates. The chocolates were for you, but I straightened him out.”
My hand pauses. “He brought you flowers?”
“Yep. Guess you guys really benefited from my little gift in your bag. Anyway,” She takes the brush from my hand and taps my head, “Remember what I said to you the other night about not getting in your own way and giving things a chance. That still stands. Even more so now.”
I blow out a breath. “So where are you headed?”
She smiles and opens the door. “Let’s just say your man inspired me to go do some waking up of my own. Feel free to get as freaky as you need to.” She winks and leaves.
When I open the door to my room, Hunter sits on the edge of my bed. His eyes snap up to mine. To his credit, it takes a few sways of my hips as I walk toward him before he drags his eyes down my body.
“So. Chocolates and flowers?” I lean over and take one of his legs in my hands, attempting to make a boot removal as alluring as possible.
He nods, watching me. “Yeah. Bethany clued me in about chocolate. Sorry about the other night.”
“You’ll get no complaints from me.” I take his other leg to take off the left boot. “What’s the flower for? Tickling me?”
Hunter glances at the daisy in his hand. My hands rub up his legs, my arms pressing in slightly to accentuate my cleavage. His erection throbs, and I take my time stroking his cock. His breath hitches, and his eyes flick to my breasts in front of him.
“Arms up.”
Hunter sets the flower down and lifts his hands above his head. My fingers grab the edge of his shirt and pull it off. His head pops out the neckline, messing up his hair even more. There’s my bad boy. I’m rewarded with full vision of his sculpted torso. Shit, my fingers felt him up and down, but my imagination didn’t do him justice.
“I need to touch you, Mel.”
I shake my head. “Not yet. Soon. Right now, it’s my turn.”
With my phone, I sync some music to the Bluetooth speaker on my nightstand. Something soft and sensual to set the beat and drive him crazy. My hands travel with slow deliberation down each of the ridges of muscle toward the top of his jeans. I run my fingers around the edge of his jeans, and his muscles flinch. With a twist, his button comes undone, but I leave his jeans on.
“Lie down on the bed,” I tell him. “Hands behind your head.”
He slides back so his head rests on my pillow and follows my orders. The bed dips as I crawl onto it and straddle him, the heat from my awakened pussy rubbing against his lower abdomen.
“You’re right, Hunter. Doing this in the daylight has its definite benefits.”
I lean over him, skin to skin and feather his lips with light kisses, never deepening the touch. His tongue flicks out to lick me. He strains to keep his hands behind his head.
“Patience,” I whisper in his ear, and then bite his earlobe.
“You’re killing me,” he groans.
“And you dared to wake me up. Call it payback.” I lick and nip my way down his neck.
His shoulder still carries the mark of where I bit him before. I kiss it, and move down his body.
“Now,” I say, talking in between having my way with him. “In the light of day.” Kiss. “You can show off.” Nip. “Your well-toned body.” Lick.
I pull one of his nipples into my mouth. He growls, and moves underneath me. One hand escapes from behind his head.
I stop and sit up. “Move your hand right now, and this all ends.”
He bites his lip and shoves the naughty appendage back where I want it. My pussy throbs as I get off on his struggle. He had his turn at running the show. Now to show him what he’s gotten himself into.
Sitting back up, I let my hands and fingers roam over my body in sensual movements. They run through my hair, over my face, across my lips. Hunter watches me with smoldering eyes. I press my chest out and feel my own breasts already heavy from anticipation. His tongue darts out and licks his lips. I close my eyes as I roll my nipples into hard buds. My display may have started to rev his engines, but desire shoots through me. I close my eyes, enjoying my own touch, believing that I can be a sexy goddess in my own right.
Through hooded eyelids, I watch Hunter. The game is on to bring him to his brink and break his control. Bring out the wild animal in him to tear me apart. My hand eases down my abdomen, fingers splayed across my skin. His eyes stay glued on my fingers as they cross the threshold between my thighs.
One slow swipe across my folds, and some of my own restraint slips. My fingers caress my slick pussy back and forth, alternating with slow circles around my clit. When I hit my swollen target, my hips grind against my hand and Hunter.
“Holy Hell. What the fuck are you doing?”
I open my eyes. His teeth are gritted, the vein his neck pulses as he holds his head up to watch. Only the tips of his fingers remain behind his head.
“You said you wanted to see me in the light,” I pause, rubbing my arousal around. “So I thought I’d give you something to watch. Why, see something you want?”
With that last challenge, I push a finger inside my wet channel. A moan escapes me, and I bite my lip. I undulate on top of him, daring him to break and claim what’s his to take. He reaches out with one hand and grabs my hip. He lifts his ass up so his hard cock finds friction against me. But one hand still remains obedient.
The forefinger and thumb of my free hand circle my nipple and pinch it while two fingers enter me. My eyes close again, no longer concerned with the game.
“Hunter.” His name’s both a call out to the one who makes me this wanton and a plea for him.
He leans up on his elbows and growls. “Take off my jeans.”
Moving in quick compliance, I unleash his throbbing cock and tear his jeans off his legs. Half way up, as I’m crawling back on the bed, he grabs my arms and pulls me up to straddle him again. His mouth crushes mine as he grips me to him with fierce force. We attack each other with equal passion. He covers my face and neck with rough kisses. Taking my hand that was between my thighs, he licks it clean.
I take his hard length in my hand and hover over it, rubbing his head through my wet folds. The urge to impale myself on him overwhelms me.
“Hunter. Condoms. Drawer.” I point.
He stops devouring me long enough to grab one. He hands it to me, and pants a protest. “But you’re not ready.”
I guide his hand to the hot apex between my thighs and run his fingers over me. “Does that feel like I’m not?”
“Fuck, you’re drenched.” He wastes no time pushing two fingers deep inside, rubbing and stretching.
The condom goes on, and I waste no time. Directing his fingers to my clit, I look in his eyes and sink down on him. We both cry out expletives at the sensation. My tight pussy clenches him, the friction almost too much to take. My position on top drives me down. He’s deeper than he’s been before. I still, letting my body adjust. My muscles contract around him, sinking him deeper. Hunter drops back on the bed with a groan.
I lift myself up a bit, and drop down again, slowly. With each stroke, the pain subsides and pleasure sparks. This man beneath me does things to me I can’t fathom. I thought I’d felt sexy before, but nothing compares to how he makes me feel. Th
e fact that he wants me, not just my body, makes me ache to please him. I want to be the one to bring him so much pleasure he won’t stop thinking about us, even miles away.
His hard grip at my hips takes over the rhythm, pushing me up and down. He thrusts inside me at the right time until we’re in perfect sync. Good thing Bethany left because no earphones are going to block out the loud noises we make.
“Fuck yes, Hunter.”
“Shit. So good.”
“Harder.”
He sits up, the switch in angle intensifying the sensation of him inside me. His greedy mouth covers my breast, and he sucks in my nipple. I grab the back of his head and urge him to take more. His teeth graze the hardened bud and bite down as he sucks it in.
“God, yes. More.” My head drops back.
He switches to give the same attention to my other breast. He moves his hand to finger my clit, and my inner muscles shake.
“I’m going to come,” I warn.
He applies harder pressure against me. “Do it. Come, Melody.”
As I explode, he pumps himself faster inside me, his own climax taking us both harder. We shake against each other, riding the wave. Before I’m ready, he moves me off of him and discards the condom. He flips me on my back, raises my legs over his shoulders, and dives his head between my legs. Small spasms ripple through me with every lick until another climax builds.
“I can’t,” I protest.
He doesn’t stop until another orgasm rips through me. His tongue laps up all my arousal as I lay spent with my arm over my eyes, stars bursting in front of them. The entire world falls away in my euphoric state.
Hunter’s finger traces the quote tattooed on my arm. His touch brings me back.
“What does ‘Wondrous Strange’ mean to you? It sounds familiar.” He moves my arm off my face and lays halfway on top of me.
“It’s Shakespeare. From Hamlet.” I open my eyes. His face hovers near mine.
He brushes hair away and waits for me to gather my thoughts. No man’s ever taken the time to care what any of my tats mean to me. Telling him isn’t off limits, but it feels foreign to share a piece of me that the whole world sees yet doesn’t understand.
“When I first heard the phrase, I simply liked it. Like it was wonderful to be weird or different. And that’s always been me. Took me getting older to understand the context.”
He studies the scrolled script. “What’s the context?”
“Horatio, Hamlet’s best friend, has just seen the ghost of Hamlet’s father. When he says it, he’s in awe of what he’s witnessed. In fear of it. Right after Horatio says it, Hamlet tells him that the ghost sighting’s proof that there are more things to marvel at in the world than we understand.”
I scrunch my eyes closed, worried that my nerd status negates me as a sex goddess. I’ve never been a huge book reader. But for some reason, Shakespeare does it for me. The difference in the language, how one statement can mean something else. And then the laughable proof that a lot of today’s books and movies are rip offs of Shakespeare’s plays. It’s like my own personal joke. That Hunter now shares.
He repeats the words again. “I like it. So for you, it went from celebrating how you felt different to…what?”
In a small voice, I confess. “To reminding myself that there might be more for me out there in the world. To believe in that. To believe in myself, that I could experience it.” Not even Bee knows this about my tattoo or me.
His warm lips cover mine in a slow, languid kiss. “Thank you for sharing,” he murmurs against them. His body covers mine, and I shift underneath him.
After a few minutes of our tongues dancing and our bodies writhing, he stops to look at me. Tenderness instead of desire reflects back to me. Yet it doesn’t quench the flames kindling in my belly. His cock grows hard against me again.
He grins. “I think I need to be inside your sweet pussy again.” His mouth’s dirty, but his eyes say something different.
If I branded myself with the belief that the world can offer me more, then why can’t I believe that so can this man? I wrap my legs around his waist, and open myself up in more ways than one.
“Bring it on, Cowboy.”
18
Hunter
My mind wanders over the past few days. It’s a fucking shame that I’ve lived in this area for so long, and right when I’m leaving to start a new part of my life, I find her. And at the one place our band has called home for years. Fate fucking sucks.
No doubt, the sex is good. It’s not good, it’s fucking awesome. I’ve lied about how good sex has been with other women to my boys. We do that, trying to one up each other. Now, I have no desire to share shit with them about Mel. Call it protectiveness or even crazy jealousy. No way will they know how great she is. If I say nothing, then I don’t have to beat the shit out of each one of them for thinking about her that way.
My girl’s got me so twisted that my schedule matches hers so we can spend as much time as possible. No more early mornings for me. Well, except the early part of the morning after midnight right after she gets off work. Then we can get each other off, sexing each other up in all different ways and all different places.
One night, she had texted me while she was working.
“Slow night. Get your ass over here and sit at my bar.”
The guys weren’t exactly pleased about me bailing on them. But I sure as shit wasn’t going to pass up an invitation like that. When I got to the R&R, I headed to the opposite side than I normally do.
The harder, “rock” side of R&R isn’t that much different in terms of set up. Rock music replaces country, and the stage area’s a bit smaller. The dress code’s the biggest difference.
I chose a seat at the end of the bar so I could watch Mel in action. If that night was slow, I’d hate to see a busy one. She poured drinks like a pro and took orders all at the same time. She smiled and joked with the girls, and flirted right up to the point where I’d have to kick their asses with the guys. For a few minutes, the sight of her fellow bartender bumping up against her from time to time caused my fists to clench. But her body told me the truth; that he wasn’t competition. Nor did he treat her like he was interested, saving us both from a dick contest.
When she caught my eyes, she sauntered over to me and poured a tumbler of bourbon. She added a cherry in it and winked at me.
Leaning over so her boobs and ample cleavage filled my view, she said, “From the hot girl behind the bar. She hopes to meet you during her break.”
Although I loved watching her ass and hips move in those tight leather pants of hers, they were a damned inconvenience when I wanted to thrust my dick inside her. During her break, she met me out back by the large trash bins. Not the sexiest place for shit to go down, but we were both so wound up for each other, it didn’t matter.
To ease my frustration for not being able to take off her leather pants, she gave me the best head ever. Whoever taught her how to use her mouth and hands in tandem, they deserve a fucking medal. When she tugged on my balls and rubbed her finger behind them with her mouth plunging down my hard cock, shivers shot down my spine. I came hard in hot spurts down her throat. She didn’t want to kiss me afterwards, but I showed her how much I didn’t care. That night after work, I did my best to double the amount of pleasure for her that she had given me.
“Earth to Hunter. Fucking hell, not this again,” complains EJ.
“Hmm, what?” Damn, did I miss what’s been said again?
“Oh nothing, except we all decided that you’re going to be the first to drive shit to Nashville. We’ve rented a U-Haul, and you and Levi are going to leave next Monday while we get the rest of our shit packed up in the moving van the label’s paid for. Sound good? It’s not like you’ve got anything here you want to stay for.” EJ glares at me.
My brow furrows. “What the hell are you talking about? Of course I don’t want to leave next Monday. That’s less than a week away.”
“That’s th
e point, brother.” Hart twirls one of his drumsticks in his hands. “You need to pay attention, or you’re going to find yourself screwed in more ways than one.”
“Yeah.” EJ chimes back in. “Stop letting the girl fuck your brains out. We need you smart right now, not dumb and mute. Must be some fine piece of ass she’s giving to you. Wonder if she’d mind working me over like that. I’m already stupid.”
I jump out of my chair, knocking it to the floor. “What’d I tell you about watching your mouth?”
“Hey, you’re the one who told me she invited that waitress to be with the two of you.” EJ drops his sarcastic tone, his voice raising.
“That was her joke on you, asshole. Back the fuck off.” My voice comes out more as a growl than a statement.
“Whoa, whoa. Let’s take it down a notch. EJ’s just trying to tell you that you’re too distracted, Hunter.” Mac steps in between us. “We’ve got to solidify our plans so we can get to Nashville without any problems.”
“And you sex binging ain’t helping matters.” Hart shrugs, stating his truth and not trying to start a fight.
Mac glares at EJ and him before getting serious with me. “Remember what I said about distractions. Don’t let her become one, Hunt.” He turns back toward EJ. “And you? Back the fuck off. What he does or doesn’t do with Mel’s up to him.”
EJ pouts. “As long as it doesn’t hurt the band. See, this is why I don’t hang around a girl long enough for my dick to want her. Once your dick craves a girl, then you might as well sit back and enjoy becoming a lesbian while you watch your cock transform into a pussy.”
I straighten the chair back up facing backwards and straddle it. “Okay, so do we have a place to go or not?”
The rest of the group lets out a collective sigh. Shit, another detail missed.
Mac explains. “One of the Lyric Ridge’s representatives called and said they’ve temporarily rented us a house to share. It’s got five bedrooms, so no one has to worry about bunking up with his mess.” He gestures toward EJ. “The girl…Aislynn, I think she said, was her name…suggested that a couple of us head out there soon to help get the place set up. Pick out furniture and stuff.”