"Please?"
"Touch me." She rubs her ass against my crotch. "Please…" Her voice is soft, eager.
I tease her until her inhales are hitching in the back of her throat and her exhales are sharp.
When I finally bring my thumbs to her nipples, she lets out a heavy sigh of pleasure. Her knees press together. Her back arches as she presses her neck against my lips.
Her tits are the perfect size for my hands and they respond to my fingers like they were built for them.
I toy with her every way I can. I brush her nipple with my thumb. I rub her, hard. I draw circles on her nipple. I test out every finger, every speed, every pressure.
I pinch her softly.
Then harder.
Then hard enough to hurt. That gets me the loudest groan. I try again, to be sure.
I pinch her, hard.
"Mal…" Her groan is equal parts pleasure and pain. "Fuck."
I do it again.
Again.
I do it until she's rocking against me so hard I can't take it. I'm not about to come in my fucking jeans. Not when she's eager and pliable and desperate to take me.
My lips brush her neck as I bring my mouth to her ear. "Turn to your left."
She takes an unsteady step towards the left.
"Two steps forward."
She swallows hard, but she takes the two steps forward. She trusts me to lead her. I have to see how much she trusts me with her body.
"A half step."
Her knee brushes against the comforter as she moves forward.
"Sit on the bed."
She turns and takes a seat. Her knees press together. Her fingers dig into her thighs. She wants to come. She wants to be fucked. She wants whatever I'm willing to give her.
I let my voice drop to that demanding tone. "Spread your legs, baby."
She presses her knees apart. Fuck. That's beautiful. She's soft and pink and she's fucking soaked.
"You always get that wet?"
"No." Something edges into her voice—some ugly place that hurts. "I usually… Just no."
Her expression twists. Even with the blindfold covering her eyes, I can see it. That shame is back.
But why?
My head fights with my cock. It wants to know where she hurts. It wants to fix it. Or maybe that's my heart. Either way, my cock doesn't give a flying fuck.
It wants her cunt pulsing around it as she comes.
It wants to bring her all the pleasure in the fucking universe.
I can get her to talk now, but it's not right. I need to wait until we're both on even ground.
I need to take whatever it is that's hurting her and destroy it.
I pick up the bucket of ice. "You only get that wet for me, baby?"
Her shoulders relax. Her thighs clench. She lets out a soft sigh. "Yes."
"Lie back down. Keep your legs where they are."
"Mal…" Her voice breaks into a needy whine.
It's fucking music.
Slowly, she lowers herself onto her back.
I position my body between hers. I'm too tall or this bed is too short. Either way, I can't fuck her in this position.
Lacey groans as I nudge her legs apart. Her back arches. Her lips part with a sigh.
She's right where I want her.
I take an ice cube and hold it over her stomach.
She shudders as a drop of freezing water hits her skin. Then another. Another.
Slowly, I bring the cube to the spot just above her belly button and I run it up the center line of her body until it's nothing but melted water.
She clutches at the sheets, her hips bucking, her knees pressing against my outer thighs.
This time, I start at the spot just below her belly button and I draw a line up to her breast. She shudders with a heavy groan as the ice brushes against her nipple.
"Fuck," she breathes.
I lean down to suck the ice off her skin. She reaches up to tug at my hair, pulling my body onto hers, pulling hard enough to hurt.
Her groan echoes through the room.
"Mal…" It's a plea. Not for anything, but for everything.
I can't give her much besides pleasure, but I can give her a fucking lot of pleasure.
I pull back enough to grab another ice cube. She shudders with that mix of hurt and ecstasy as I drag it up her stomach and over her other nipple. This time, I wait until she's sinking her teeth into her lip to bring my mouth to her breast and lap up the melted ice.
She groans as I flick my tongue against her tender bud.
As I suck softly.
Then harder.
Then hard enough she yelps.
I scrape my teeth against her.
She tugs at my hair as she lets out that half-agony, half-ecstasy groan. She likes pain. Maybe only this much. Maybe more. I'm going to find out, but not right now.
Now, I need to taste her.
I drag my lips to her other nipple and toy with it until she's digging her nails into my back.
Slowly, I drag my lips down her chest and stomach, below her belly button.
She shudders as I plant a soft kiss on her inner thigh.
As I work my way up her leg.
"Mal…" Lacey's breath hitches. She digs her hand into my hair and holds on like it's a lifeline.
I nip at the skin of her inner thigh. "You want to come on my face, baby?"
Her yes is a low groan that demands every ounce of my attention.
Right now, she isn't thinking about anything ugly. She isn't thinking anything but I need him.
Right now, she needs me more than she needs anything.
The power of it is intoxicating.
I move to her other leg, plant a kiss on the inside of her knee, and work my way up her inner thigh.
She shudders.
Almost.
Her breath hitches.
My lips brush her clit.
Her groan is poetry. Her groan is an offer of all her attention in exchange for all of mine.
Some part of me demands more, but it fades away as I flick my tongue against her clit. This makes sense. It's clear. It's fun.
No one risks their heart getting torn to shreds.
I dig my fingers into her thighs and pin them to the bed. No thinking. Not now.
Lacey groans as I lick her with steady strokes. She arches her back to press her cunt against my lips. She tastes fucking good and her eagerness sends that last remaining bit of blood to my cock.
Every part of me is heavy with that mix of anticipation and power.
Her orgasm is mine.
Her body is mine.
Only for now, but now is all I can offer. That means it's all I can take.
I sink to my knees. My fingers curl around her thighs. I pull her body closer as I taste every inch of her.
She groans as I work my way down and up again.
My mouth gets every fucking inch of her.
Lacey is writhing under me. Her breath is a mix of sharp inhales and heavy grunts of exhales. With one hand, she tugs at my hair. With the other, she claws at my shoulder. The sharp burst of pain spurs me on. That's need. Desperation.
That's fucking beautiful.
I work my way to her clit and I lick her with soft, slow strokes. I get harder and faster, until her breath hitches in that way that screams that's it.
It only takes a few flicks of my tongue to push her to the edge. Her thighs shake. Her stomach tenses. Her nails dig into my skin hard enough to draw blood.
She groans. "Mal, please…"
I flick my tongue against her, just enough to push her a little closer to the edge.
Her groan is agony as much as it's ecstasy.
I do it again.
Again.
"Mal…" Her breath hitches. Her hands knot in my hair.
She's at her limit. I pull back enough to blow cool air over her clit. Fuck, I can feel the ache in her core. I can feel her need in the way she's shaking.
In one
swift motion, I pin her legs to the bed, I bring my mouth to her clit, and I suck hard.
"Fuck. Mal. Fuck." She groans my name again and again as she comes.
I can feel her orgasm in the way she pulses against my lips. I can taste it. I can see that pleasure spreading all over her face.
That blindfold is still over her eyes.
She really fucking trusts me. The feeling of it washes over me. My cock is hard enough to cut diamonds, but that feeling of her trust is stronger than my need to come.
I drag my hands up her thighs as I push myself to my feet. "You want my cock inside you, baby?"
She groans a yes.
I toss my t-shirt over my head, pull a condom from my jeans, and push them off my hips. "Get on your hands and knees."
This time her yes isn't a word at all. She pushes herself into position then moves back, towards me.
Her back arches, bringing her ass into the air.
Her fingers squeeze the sheets as I drag my fingertips up her calves. God, the way she shakes and groans—
She's so fucking reactive.
It's too much fun teasing her.
I step out of my jeans and undo the condom wrapper. Lacey perks at the sound of the foil. She arches her back to lift her ass.
She lets out that sound that can only mean please.
I roll the condom on then bring my hands to her hips.
Slowly, I bring her body onto mine.
My tip strains against her.
Then it's one delicious inch at a time.
Fuck.
She lets out a sigh of pleasure as I slide inside her.
My groan is so low and heavy the room shakes. "Fuck, you feel good."
"Mal…" She pushes back to take me deeper.
I pull back enough to fill her with a hard thrust.
It makes her shudder.
I do it again.
Again.
Until she's clutching at the sheets.
Pleasure spreads out through my limbs.
I let go of my last bit of concern for where this is going. I let go of my thoughts. I let go of everything but my body.
My fingers dig into her hips.
My cock drives into her.
She swivels her hips in this figure eight that drives me out of my fucking mind.
Fuck.
One hand slides between her legs and stokes her hard and fast.
"Mal… Fuck." She rocks her hips in that same motion.
I let her lead my hand. I let her lead, period.
My eyelids press together.
I hold off until I can feel her pulsing with an orgasm. Until my name is rolling off her tongue again and again.
And I let go.
With my next thrust, I come. My cock pulses. She rocks me through my orgasm, her ass in the air, her hips making that perfect figure eight.
Once I've spilled every drop, I untangle our bodies and take care of the condom.
Lacey scoots up on the bed and pulls off her blindfold. Her eyes go straight to me. They're filled with something beyond the satisfaction of a fuck.
With something I want.
For once, I don't question it.
I collapse onto the bed next to her and pull her body into mine.
13
Lacey
Saturday night at Mal's place is perfect. We order dinner. We watch a movie—my pick (Sunset Boulevard, of course).
In the morning, Mal makes breakfast and tea, and I leave before I can worry about overstaying my welcome.
All week, we text about the video.
About nothing.
About everything.
Friday, he invites me to spend another Saturday at his place, to spend the afternoon with him before the show.
I have to pinch myself to make sure I'm awake.
Mal and I linger in the ocean for far too long. We laugh and kiss and drag each other under waves.
We have to rush through showers and dressing to hop into his car in time to make it to the venue.
I barely care that I'll have to retrieve my car.
I'm barely nervous about having to pitch to the other guys in the band.
But that tinge of concern is still there. We didn't have sex today. It's not a rush. It's not as if I absolutely need Mal every single chance I can get him.
Okay, it is that.
It's like he knows Adam didn't want me. It's like he knows how pathetic I was to stay for all that time.
I get lost in thought until we're parking, taking an alley to the back entrance of a club, and nodding hello to the bouncer.
The guy clearly recognizes Mal.
And he gives me that she's cute, good on ya look. Well, I guess he's shooting Mal that look. But it's about me.
The bouncer thinks I'm cute.
Mal thinks I'm cute.
Maybe… I don't know. All those years of rejection, of feeling worthless, of not understanding why… it hurts.
But I can't talk about it.
Thinking about it is already making bile rise up in my throat.
No more.
I'm enjoying this night. I'm enjoying these two months with Mal. Period.
I clear my mind as I step into the club. Backstage is bustling. It's a tiny room attached to a narrow hallway. The lights are dim. Equipment is everywhere. And everyone is looking at Mal like they want a piece of him.
We go through five hellos before we clear the first corner.
The only music flowing into the room is from the club's speakers. The crowd outside is chatting and singing along with a ten-year-old pop-punk hit. My eyes go to the setlist on the wall. That's the opening band's biggest hit.
Oh my God, that's a huge band.
Are they here?
They must be here. They're set to be on stage in thirty minutes.
The speakers switch to another ten-year-old hit. The club is smart. They're getting the crowd in the mood.
God, they have the fucking best videos. I'm much less nervous about running into rock stars and much more nervous about the likeliness that I'll tackle one of them and threaten awful, awful things if they don't hand over their director's phone number.
Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God.
That's Logan Kingston, the lead singer of Wicked Beat. And he's coming towards us.
"Nice to see you, Mal." He turns to me. "You must be the girl from the video."
My cheeks flush. "I, uh… I'm Lacey."
He shakes my hand. "Logan Kingston. Don't worry. I had to promise Mal really select tour dates to get him to show me that video early."
"What did you think?" I ask.
He gives me a long once-over. "Something tells me Malcolm won't appreciate me offering you the lead role in our next video."
Mal stares back at him. "Lacey cut the video together."
"Beauty and brains. That's the total package. I've only got the former." His smile lights up his light eyes. "Mal can't punch my lights out, 'cause… I guess he can."
"Does Mal punch?" I ask.
He shakes his head. "No, he plots more elaborate revenge."
I laugh. "I can see that."
He gives me another long once-over. I'm not imagining things. Logan Kingston wants me. He's clearly a total player.
But still.
He wants me.
He stage-whispers to Mal, "Do me a favor. Don't tell the hottie what I told you about the video."
Mal stage-whispers back, "Don't tell her you fapped it to the cute, innocent girl in the video a dozen times?"
"No, that's fine. But I don't want anyone knowing you were anywhere near my masturbatory fantasies." He winks at me. "It's a hot video. I hope you're ready to be famous, Lacey."
"Can you be ready for that?" I'm not. But then… I'm ready for the video I edited to be seen by thousands. Millions even. That outweighs any modesty.
"Good point. What did I say about beauty and brains, huh? Don't throw this one away like you do with the others." He nods goodbye to Mal then to me. "I be
tter find Jackson. You know musicians. Always something."
He spins on his heels and heads off.
I turn to Mal. "Did he really?"
"In more graphic detail, yeah." He runs his fingers through my still damp hair. "I wanted his feedback."
"On…"
"If you were right about my image."
"And?"
"And he said, 'what the fuck, Malcolm. You really expect me to have an opinion about this video other than my jeans just got fucking uncomfortable? Who's the babe writhing under you and where's her number? I don't mind sloppy seconds when the dish is that appetizing.'"
"Oh." I'm pretty sure my entire chest is flushing. I don't have any time for it to sink in. There's someone else coming towards us.
He has dark hair and familiar blue eyes.
Like Mal's, only lighter.
That's Ethan Strong, Mal's younger brother, the Dangerous Noise guitarist.
He looks a lot like Mal. He's a little shorter, a little less broad, a little more boyish. He has a brightness to him. It's in his smile, in his t-shirt, in the colorful sleeve tattoo.
He nods hello then offers his hand. "Ethan Strong."
I shake. "Lacey Waltz."
He turns to Mal and raises a brow. "You brought a date."
"A friend," Mal says. "And a colleague."
Ethan gives us a once-over. He gives Mal a really, a colleague? Do you think that's a believable story or do you think I'm an idiot? look. "Always nice to meet a friend of Mal's."
"Nice to meet you too." I move closer to Mal. That doesn't exactly sell the we're only friends slash colleagues image. "Mal didn't tell me why you're performing tonight."
"Soundtrack release party," Ethan says. He names next weekend's hottest blockbuster.
"Oh wow. I didn't know you were in that. That's awesome. I bet you make a ton off the licensing, right?" I bite my tongue. That's incredibly nosy, but at least it makes me sound more like a colleague and less like a fuck buddy.
"They don't tell me these details." Ethan laughs. He and Mal share a knowing look. It's that sibling telepathy so many people have. I'm an only child, so I don't know what it's like growing up with someone, sharing a family.
"Oh my fucking God." A bright voice floats towards us. A tall guy with sandy hair and mischievous green eyes pushes between two roadies. His jaw drops as he takes in me and Mal. "Mal has a date."
That's Joel Young, the Dangerous Noise drummer.
"She's Lacey," Ethan offers. "A friend."
Dangerous Fling: A Rock Star Romance (Dangerous Noise Book 4) Page 11