Rock the Dream (Redfall Dream #1)

by B. B. Miller

  “I need to be inside you.” Dragging her tongue up the underside of my length just about sends me over the edge, but then she makes a show of sitting back on the adjacent seat. Slowly, painfully slowly just to drive me out my damn mind, she lowers the zipper on one boot, tugging it off, her heated gaze never leaving mine.

  “One day, I’ll fuck you in just those boots.”

  “You keep saying that,” she teases as the other boot joins its mate on the floor. Thank fuck for the size of this limo as I’m treated to the insanely erotic sight of Abby tugging her jeans down. While my hand passes over my cock in long, slow strokes, she glides her fingers over her bare and exposed pussy.

  “Were you like this the whole time?” Sliding to the edge of the seat, I cover her hand with my own, coaxing both of our fingers over her clit. “Bare and wet and ready for me?” Teasing our fingers inside her, her ragged breathing hitches to the sensation as she rolls her hips, her tongue darting out to wet her lips.

  Unable to resist, I lean forward and grip her hips, my fingers digging roughly against her smooth skin as I pull her onto my lap and down over my aching cock. The hedonistic need to claim her overwhelms me when she clenches around my throbbing length, meeting every forceful punch of my hips; so warm and tight, and so fucking perfect.

  She claws at my shoulders before gripping the plush leather on the seat behind me, her head thrown back, mouth dropped open as our desperate rhythm builds. I slide my palms to take hold of her sweet ass, squeezing and urging her faster as I pound into her.

  There will be time . . . lots of time for warm, gentle and tender, but now, we’re both too far gone for that. I can feel it building, that rush of white heat, my muscles tensing as each kiss grows wilder, each press of my palm over her hip and against her thigh more frantic.

  Her taste explodes in my mouth, her tongue brushing urgently with my own. She’s the air I breathe, and I claim her mouth, her pussy, every single inch of her delectable skin in the only way I can.

  “Kennedy . . .” It’s a mumbled plea against my lips as she stretches one arm up, her palm pressing to the ceiling of the limo, arching her back away from me in a stuttered cry. I wish to fuck we had at least gotten around to losing her shirt for this so I could bury my face in her tits. But, maybe it says more about us that we couldn’t wait.

  “What you do to me, baby,” I mutter as I feel that delicious tremble around my aching length when she finally lets go. She tries to stifle her scream against my neck. I plant my feet on the floor of the limo, my hips bucking forward with my own release as I bury myself inside her over and over.

  We’re a tangle of needy hands and joined groans, trying to get impossibly closer. Her arms wrap around my neck, and she practically melts into me, resting her forehead to mine. Leaning back, I grip her chin, my own breathing labored as I take her in; cheeks flushed in that glorious just fucked way.

  “We’re going to do that again . . . real soon,” I mumble through a shaky breath.

  “Promise?” It’s a whispered word against my lips.

  “Promise.”

  Losing track of time is easy when I’m in the solitude of my recording studio. With Abby back at the office and the band dispersed until the Australian leg of the tour, I’m alone. Even Mom and Dad have taken off to Abby’s parents’ place to spend a few days before heading home. Things are getting better with them. We’re not perfect, but we’re making progress.

  Our families spent a couple of days together at my place, and we settled into a rhythm of sorts. Meals were made together, evenings typically were around the piano where I’d catch Mom’s eye and a silent moment would pass between us. There were common, everyday conversations that end up tying people together in ways you can’t expect.

  But through all of this, there’s a nagging guilt gnawing away at me. Do I really deserve to be this happy? The scars all of us have are wounds that will never really, truly heal. While I’m trying to stop blaming myself for Robin’s accident, I’ll never get over losing her. A part of me, a part of all of us died with her, and the best that we can do now is try to make whatever time we have mean something. That’s what I’m committing myself to do.

  I’ve always said I wanted more. I’ve learned now that can’t be found in a hangover or with some strung out junkie in a shady bar. It can’t be found at the bottom of a bottle. That demon of temptation will try to trick you, tempt you, make you think you’re invincible. And it’s so easy to forget—forget about the people you’re hurting, and the lost patches of time you’ll never get back.

  Then one day, you wake up and you don’t recognize the stranger staring back at you in the mirror. You forget about promises you made to the people you love. Temptation is a viscous cycle, and it’s always going to be there. For Cam, Matt, Sean, and for me. We’ve each battled and lost, and battled again. And we’re still here, scarred and bruised, but each of us finding our own reasons to fight for another day.

  For me, it’s Parker. It’s rebuilding with my family, my band, and Tucker. It’s finding my heart and soul. Ours has been a whirlwind, a test, a scorching, intense desire. I’ve gone from never wanting to leave the numbness I was wandering in to craving every single emotion Abby brings out in me. It’s a love that is all-consuming, a place outside of the stage where I’m lost and found at the same time, where I can breathe again because of her.

  Adjusting the headphones, I switch the recording light on and get lost once more. I play about all the mistakes and the miracles, and all of that wide-open glorious future that stretches out in front of us. I play about the darkness, the temptation that will always be with me, but mostly, I play about the only woman who’s ever really seen me, knows my fears and doubts and darkest side . . . the one who saved me from myself.

  Abigail

  “What’s up next?” I look over at Tessa, who’s chewing on a pencil pensively as she looks out the window, instead of at her clipboard. “Hello? Earth to Tessa?”

  She startles and abruptly turns away from the window, her eyes immediately roving over her notes. I look at her with concern. She’s been unusually distracted since the concert. “Tess, are you all right?”

  “Of course,” she says quickly, looking at me with wide-eyed innocence. Flashing me a too-bright smile, she sits across from me at my desk and flips a page. “Shall we go through the details so far for the Browne dream?”

  I let her take me through the schedule, involving a deal with the New York City Ballet to allow a young lymphoma patient to perform a brief cameo during a performance of the Nutcracker. Her scarf shifts, and I stifle a gasp when my eyes spy the faint love bites that trail down her neck toward her chest. Now I understand why she’s been wearing turtlenecks for the last three days.

  Her voice trails off when she notices where my gaze rests. “What?” She nervously pulls her scarf back up to cover the marks and I smirk.

  “Anything you want to tell me, hmm?” I tease, cocking an eyebrow at her as her blush deepens. “Or about anyone?” She’s usually dying to tell me about her latest conquest; I’m surprised I haven’t heard about this one. From the looks of those marks, it must have been a wild night.

  “Oh, you know, just some guy I met the other night,” she says dismissively, and before I can quiz her further, there’s a tap at the door just before it opens and April sticks her head inside.

  “Can you come down and talk to the guys from ESPN for a minute? They’re here for the Joey Anderson dream.”

  “Right.” I rise to my feet, tossing a teasing glance at Tess. “We’ll finish this later, okay? I want to hear every juicy detail.”

  “Um, sure.” She gives me a wry smile. “I’ll be going with you to the airport, so you can grill me then.”

  “Perfect.” I give her a wink, and then follow April down the hall toward her office. It’s only a few days after the concert, but we can’t stop to rest; there are dozens of other children’s dreams in line to fulfill. Although it will certainly be easier now, thanks to the conce
rt and the generosity of Kennedy and those who donated in Parker’s name. My heart skips a beat, and I pull out my phone to fire off a quick text to my rocker, just to let him know I’m thinking about him . . . As if that’s a surprise.

  I’m always thinking of him.

  “Oh Abby, we’re having so much fun!” my mother gushes over the phone. “That Graham is a live wire after a few bottles of wine.”

  I grimace. God only knows what’s been going on in Napa. I love that Kennedy’s and my parents are getting along so well, but if mom has been offering that damn sex chair to them, I don’t want to know about it. “Erm, that’s great, Mom. When are they leaving?”

  “Tomorrow, unfortunately. But they’ve invited us to fly out to visit them in Redwood Falls.” I hear something rattle in the background, and my father grumbling. “So, what’s up with you? Has Kennedy recovered after the concert yet? That poor man’s voice was almost nonexistent at the end of the night.”

  “He’s fine. Tucker has this mystery concoction of tea, honey, and some spicy herbal mixture that snaps him back in shape pretty quickly.” I can’t help my smile; even though I probably shouldn’t because it means he’s overused it, a part of me secretly loves Kennedy’s deep, raspy voice and the way it sounds murmuring dirty things in my ear. Shaking my head, I pull my thoughts back. “I was just calling to let you know I’ll be out of town of a couple days. April and I are flying down to San Diego to meet with some people for another dream.”

  I can hear her smile in her voice. “Thanks for letting us know, sweetie. I like knowing where you are, just in case.” I do know that; Mom doesn’t worry about much, but she does get a little anxious when I travel, especially to different time zones. “Abby, that was an incredible thing you all did,” my mother says in all seriousness. “Seeing Kennedy with that little boy . . .” I can hear her soft sigh. “He was wonderful with him. You’ve given them something they’ll remember for their entire lives. I know I don’t say it often enough, but I’m proud of you, sweetie. You’ve turned into an amazing woman, and I—your father and I—couldn’t be prouder of you.”

  My throat closes with emotion from her unexpected praise, and I swallow thickly. “Thanks, Mom. I love you.”

  “Oh, I love you, too, Abby,” she replies. “Never forget that.” She clears her throat, and then asks more casually, “What’s Kennedy going to do while you’re gone?”

  “Well, I don’t know,” I say, confused. “He can do whatever he wants, I suppose. I think he mentioned helping Tucker with something, but I don’t know the particulars.” Considering how pouty he was when I went back to the office, I was a little disappointed with his calm reaction to my news about my trip. I expected him to cajole me into staying, especially since I had to cancel dinner with him. I hated to do it, considering he’d be leaving again soon—too soon, actually—but April needs me on this one. If she hadn’t practically pleaded with me, I wouldn’t be going. I want to spend every moment I can with him before he leaves. But given his almost perfunctory acceptance of my trip . . .

  It’s not all about you, Abby, I silently chastise myself. The man has given me his undivided attention for days—he’s probably looking forward to a little alone time.

  “Oh, that’s nice. Well, tell him that I took care of that thing for him,” she says cryptically, immediately raising my suspicions. My mother doesn’t do cryptic well.

  “What do you mean?” I ask, but she just laughs. “Just something he wanted me to take care of for his parents, sweetie,” she says hurriedly, which tells me there’s more to it than that. Good Lord, what is she up to now? “I’ll talk to you when you get back. Have a nice trip!”

  She hangs up, leaving me staring at the phone. I love my mom, but I swear, sometimes I think she’ll give me more grey hairs than any kids I may have someday.

  Sitting across from me in the Town car, Tessa rattles off the particulars for our meeting tomorrow in San Diego. She’s a little nervous, but April and I ignore it and listen dutifully. Now that things are calming down after the concert, April and I agreed that it was time to step things up for Tess and offer her the opportunity of taking over Nadia’s position as Giving Director. Normally, we’d do a search for someone with more Foundation experience, but Tessa knows the position almost better than we do. The way she stepped up during the prep for the show demonstrated that she’s more than ready for more responsibility. Although I’ll miss her as my assistant, it would be unfair of me not to consider her if she was willing. And, after she got over her shock, she eagerly assured me she was when I suggested it to her this afternoon. I can’t wait to see her in action.

  I chuckle to myself as I picture the look on Matt’s face when she stood up to him in the boardroom. That was something to see. Even Kennedy was impressed. The other members of Redfall scattered to the winds following the big event, as they typically do, he says. Although I’ve managed to build an easy rapport with them, I still don’t know much about their private lives. Each one is so different, but when they come together . . . Kennedy has tried to describe the feeling he gets when he’s onstage with them, when everything’s clicking between them and they don’t even have to think. They’re like some kind of freaky hive brain or something. It doesn’t matter how it happens. All I know is that when they play together, it’s a wonder to behold.

  Tess falls silent, leaving us to our own devices for a few minutes before we get to the airport. As the San Francisco scenery flashes by, my mind wanders. I can’t believe the turn my life has taken. A few months ago, all I looked forward to were Wine Wednesdays with Maddie and my work. Now, although I still love my work, it’s taken a backseat to something—someone—I’ve never imagined in my wildest dreams. Kennedy . . . with his strength and courage to fight his demons, his passionate intensity, and his loving adoration has turned my life upside down. He barged into my regimented existence and made me see that there’s more to life than what I’d been allowing myself. Despite our shaky start, I wouldn’t trade our journey for anything.

  He’s talked about taking a few months off after Redfall finishes its world tour, and has made it abundantly clear that he expects me to be a part of that. And he wasn’t kidding about my moving in with him. He’s even said that he’d buy a condo in the city so we can stay here during the week while I’m working, and then head out to Bodega Bay on weekends. I haven’t agreed yet; I don’t know why I’m dragging my feet. I suppose that I should be resistant to giving up my apartment and the independence it symbolizes. And some would say we’re moving too fast. But, honestly? None of that really matters. I’m thrilled by the thought of waking up every morning with him and beginning our next stage, wherever that might lead us. A part of me will miss seeing Maddie so often, but she’s moving on, too. She and Dylan are madly in love, and she’s over at his place more often than not. I know they’ll make it permanent one day soon.

  So what am I waiting for? If I think about it too much, it scares me how much Kennedy has come to mean to me so quickly. I need him like I need air to breathe. I crave the closeness we’ve developed; it’s something I never knew I was missing.

  By the time the airport signs come into view, my mood has plummeted. Jeez, I haven’t even set foot on the plane yet and I’m already missing Kennedy like crazy. Why did I agree to this trip again? Oh yeah, because I’m a responsible adult, that’s why.

  Humph. Sometimes, being responsible sucks.

  I’m surprised though when, instead of pulling up to the terminal like normal, we take a side road into a tunnel. “Where are we going?” I ask the driver, slightly panicked. My panic turns to confusion when we emerge on the tarmac, heading toward a row of what look like private planes.

  I look over at April in consternation, but she merely gives me a calm smile. “A certain someone thought you’d be more comfortable in a private jet,” she explains, and I laugh. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out who that certain someone could be. I shake my head at Kennedy’s largesse. That man has more money than sens
e sometimes, but I love him anyway.

  The car smoothly pulls up next to a black SUV sitting near the foot of one of those stairways that leads up to the open doorway of a small jet. The three of us get out and retrieve our overnight bags from the driver. But, when I turn, I stare in shock when I see Kennedy emerge from the plane and jauntily walk down the stairs towards us. He’s dressed all in black again, from his tight shirt to his kick-ass boots, looking like sex incarnate.

  “What the hell?” I whisper, my feet rooted to the spot. I can’t move, not even when he walks right up to me, cups my face in his large hands, and gives me a kiss that would make me blush to my roots if I weren’t so surprised.

  “There’s been a slight change in plans,” he says, looking beyond pleased with himself. I just shake my head, smiling in confusion.

  “Are you coming with us?” I ask, my confusion morphing into suspicion when a smug-looking Maddie climbs out of the SUV with Tucker, who looks more resigned than pleased. “What’s going on?”

  He deftly takes my carry-on from me. “I’m not going with you; you’re coming with me.” My gaze snaps back to his, his blue eyes sparkling with mischief.

  “What?” I exclaim. “Where? I can’t go with you! Our plane leaves in an hour.” I spin to look at a grinning April and Tess who are still standing next to the car.

  “No, our plane leaves in an hour,” my former assistant corrects me, exchanging a smirk with April. “We’re going to San Diego, and you’re going to wherever it is Kennedy is taking you.”

  I look incredulously at all of them. “Are you serious?” My stammering is cut off when Kennedy slips an arm around my waist, propelling me toward the stairs. Maddie and April quickly step up on either side of us.