Dangerous Fling: A Rock Star Romance (Dangerous Noise Book 4)

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Dangerous Fling: A Rock Star Romance (Dangerous Noise Book 4) Page 19

by Crystal Kaswell


  His thumb and forefinger press against my nipple with a soft pinch.

  His other thumb rubs against my clit. Harder.

  The next pinch is harder.

  He rubs me harder.

  He stares into my eyes with this look that commands me. It pushes me over the edge. With the next brush of his thumb, I come. My sex pulses with a hard, fast orgasm.

  But Mal doesn't stop. He keeps his thumb pad pressed against my clit, making these perfect slow circles.

  He holds my gaze as he works me.

  Fuck. The pressure in my sex is intense. It hurts as much as it feels good.

  I have to close my eyes.

  I try to reach for Mal, but my wrists catch on the cuffs. I'm restrained. I'm at his mercy.

  And he's torturing me by taking me to the edge again.

  With the next brush of Mal's thumb, I come again. Fuck. That's intense. I can feel the pulsing of my sex all the way in my toes.

  And his thumb is still on me.

  He's still working me.

  It's too much. Too intense. I can't take it.

  "Where are you, baby?" His deep voice calls my attention.

  "Yellow."

  He pulls his hand to my stomach. The way he touches me is all softness and affection. He's taking care of me.

  Not just my body, but my heart and my mind and my soul too.

  My eyes flutter open. I look up at Mal with a nod.

  Slowly, he drags his hand up my thigh. Then it's his thumb on my clit. He rubs me with those slow circles.

  The tension in my sex builds.

  Almost.

  There.

  I scream his name as I come. I shudder. I shake. I stare back at him with a plea in my eyes. When that doesn't work, I resort to words. "Fuck me."

  He presses his palm against my inner thigh and pins my leg to the bed. "Beg me."

  "Please, Mal…" I spread my legs wider. I squeeze the sheets with my toes. I'm not sure I can take more sensation, but I don't care. I need him filling me. I need it more than I've ever needed anything. "Please fuck me."

  He pins my other leg to the bed.

  "Please." My voice breaks into a whine, but I don't care about that either. I stare back at his eyes. The intensity of his expression sets me on fire. "I need you inside me."

  "Fuck, Lacey." His nails dig into my skin as he pushes my legs apart. "Look at me."

  I do.

  "I want to watch the pleasure spread over your face as I split you in half."

  He kneels on the bed between my legs. Slowly, he lifts me and brings my body towards his.

  There.

  His cock brushes against my sex. It's only a hint. Only a taste.

  He teases again and again.

  He teases until I'm dizzy.

  "Mal," I breathe. "Please." I say it again and again. It's the only word in my brain. The only word in my universe.

  "Eyes on me, baby."

  I force myself to stare back into his eyes. It's intense. Intimate.

  With one swift motion, he drives into me.

  Fuck, that feels good.

  His flesh against mine. Nothing in the way.

  It's too much. I have to close my eyes. I relax into his touch, his movements, his guidance.

  He keeps his hands on my hips, bringing my body onto his as he drives into me.

  I'm already so fucking worked up. I need him inside me. I need him filling me.

  But I can't take more.

  His next thrust pushes me to the edge.

  My hips rock.

  My wrists strain against my cuffs.

  I look back at Mal, at this beautiful, powerful man who's using every bit of his force to bring me pleasure.

  He's fucking perfect.

  This is fucking perfect.

  Fuck-

  With his next thrust, I go over the edge. It's intense. The pulse of my orgasm is painful, but the bliss that follows is divine.

  I have nothing left.

  I sink into his touch, into his motions.

  He can see it. He pins me to the bed and brings his body onto mine. Then it's his lips on my lips.

  He kisses me, hard, as he drives into me.

  As he thrusts through his orgasm.

  As he shakes and shudders and groans against my lips.

  Fuck, he feels good pulsing inside me.

  Once he's spilled every drop, he pulls out and places his body next to mine. He takes his time undoing my restraints, checking my wrists, my fingers, my forearms.

  Then he wraps me in his arms and holds me until I fall asleep.

  And it's fucking perfect.

  23

  Mal

  I drop Lacey off at her place as the sun is rising into the sky.

  She leans against me as I lead her up the stairs. She's slow about taking out her keys and unlocking her door.

  She turns around and looks up at me. "I'm going to be dead at work today."

  "I'll make sure to keep you up."

  Her cheeks flush. "You will." She rises to her tiptoes and presses her lips against mine. "That was perfect, Mal. Thank you."

  "You were perfect." I help her out of her dress and shoes and into her bed. "You're supposed to scout locations with Rafe next week."

  "Yeah."

  "I'll pick you up Monday at eleven A.M."

  "A.M.? You want me to be ready in the A.M. after this?"

  "You're off Monday."

  "Still."

  "You have dinner with my parents Saturday."

  "That's a perk?"

  "I'll make it worth your while."

  She looks up at me with a wide smile. "How's that?"

  "You don't trust me?"

  "No, I do."

  "But you want to fantasize about it."

  "Maybe." Her eyelids flutter closed as she nestles into her pillow. "Mal… I… I'll see you soon."

  "Until then." I make sure her alarm is set on her cell then I lock the door behind me.

  I don't go home. I go straight to Ethan's place in Newport Beach.

  He answers the door with a sleepy yawn. "It's not even morning."

  "It's almost eight," I say.

  "Fuck off." He tries and fails to rub the tired from his bright eyes.

  It's rare my brother looks this tired.

  With Violet around, he doesn't frown like this.

  "Is that Mal?" Violet calls from inside the apartment. "Don't mind Ethan. You must know how grumpy he is in the mornings."

  "I'm a rock star. I don't do mornings." He pulls the door open and motions come in.

  "Yeah, honey, I know. You're a big, important rock star," she teases from the other room. "I'm making a cup of tea. You want one?"

  "Sure, thanks." I lock the door behind me.

  Ethan looks around the small apartment like he's confused as to how he got here. He takes in the posters of B-movies above the bookshelf of DVDs. The expensive sound system. The sleek leather couch. Violet's Kindle on the coffee table. His acoustic guitar leaning against the wall opposite the couch.

  Fuck, does he still sit on the couch and play for her the way he did when they were barely eighteen?

  He must. He still looks at her like she lights the sun.

  Violet steps into the room. She's in a work outfit—a snug crimson dress with a black cardigan over her shoulders. She looks to me. "Everything okay?"

  Her green eyes are earnest. Why wouldn't they be?

  She loves Ethan with her entire heart.

  He loves her back with his.

  They have no idea their engagement eats at me. They have no idea some ugly part of me would rather they be miserable than I be alone.

  I swallow that part down. "Ethan told you about our dinner?"

  "Yeah." She smiles. "It's really nice, throwing us an engagement party."

  Ethan shoots me a cutting look. "Yeah, it's nice. Too bad Mom and Dad will be there."

  "Ethan." She looks to me. "Really, Mal. It's sweet." She moves close enough to give me a hu
g. "You need anything from me?"

  "Just your attendance," I say.

  She smiles. "We'll be there." When the teakettle whistles, she nods to the kitchen. "One second."

  Ethan sits on the back of the couch.

  He looks to me and raises a brow. You were doing something interesting last night.

  I look back. Maybe I was.

  We stay quiet as Violet comes back into the room with two cups of tea and hands one to me.

  She looks between us. "Still peas in a pod." She leans down and plants a kiss on Ethan's lips. "I have to finish makeup. I'll get out of your hair."

  He presses his forehead to hers and mumbles something I can't make out. Judging from the way she turns red, it's something dirty.

  God, they really are fucking cute.

  She struggles to pull away. After another round of goodbyes, Violet takes her tea into the bedroom. I only get a glimpse of its purple walls before she shuts the door. The room really does scream Violet.

  No doubt Ethan screams Violet in that room most nights. I've certainly heard the two of them fuck from the other room at our place, or on the tour bus, or backstage, or in the hotel room next to theirs—let's just say, they're loud.

  The tea is perfect. Jasmine. Soft. Floral. Like Lacey. She's still burned into my brain. It lessens the sting of losing my little brother to an engagement. No, it twists the jealousy to something else.

  Instead of wanting my family back together, all in one place, I want what Ethan and Vi have.

  I want to love someone with my entire heart.

  To trust them with every part of me, not just my body.

  Ethan smiles. "You smell like sex."

  He's right. I shrug, like I'm not intoxicated by the way Lacey is lingering on my body.

  "You never smell like sex."

  "And?"

  "Nothing." His smile gets wider. "How is she?"

  "Spent."

  He laughs. "Of course." He looks to the closed bedroom door. "I assume you aren't here to brag you got laid."

  "No, I keep that to texts."

  "I know."

  "I won't bring up the dinner Saturday if you promise you'll play nice."

  "I will, but Piper—"

  "I know."

  He pushes off the couch. "We done with that? Cause I want to go back to the part where you smell like sex."

  "What about it?"

  His grin gets goofy. "You have this look in your eyes."

  He does too. There's something normal about it. My little brother is asking me about sex. We missed that part of our lives. I was too busy taking care of everything.

  "You tie her up?" he asks.

  "You suddenly develop an interest in bondage?"

  "Not suddenly." His smile widens as his gaze goes to the door. "I do whatever it takes to make Vi happy."

  "Wherever you can."

  He laughs. "Well, I can't help how much I love hearing her come."

  "You're so romantic."

  "I know."

  I need to hold onto this feeling. "You want to come over and play?"

  "You really have to ask?"

  24

  Lacey

  Saturday night, I spend forever picking out a dress. What do you wear to meet your not-a-boyfriend's parents? Everything is too tight, too loose, too conservative, too prudish. I settle on a plain black dress and my only pair of nice heels.

  The entire drive to the restaurant, my stomach is filled with butterflies.

  As I park and walk the stairs to the restaurant, my hands are shaking.

  Adam's dad loved me, but Adam's dad loved everyone.

  I take a deep breath as I press the ball of my foot onto the top floor. Mal only invited me as bait. We're only having fun. This isn't like when I met Adam's dad.

  It doesn't matter.

  Because Mal and I—we don't matter.

  The thought makes me feel worse, not better.

  I nod to the host stand. "I'm with the Strong party."

  The hostess in the pretty black dress smiles. "We'll have your table ready shortly." She motions to the cherry bench pressed up against the wood railing.

  "Thank you." I turn to take a seat—this spaghetti leg thing is getting to be annoying—but something catches my eye.

  Mal is standing in the hallway across from me. He's next to the payphone, in front of the men's room, but he isn't waiting for either.

  He's standing there in black slacks and a white button up-shirt.

  And a tie.

  Mal is wearing a tie.

  Fuck, Mal looks good all cleaned up.

  Good, but nervous. He's shifting his weight between his legs. It's the Mal equivalent of pacing. At least, I think it is.

  "Hey." It's a dozen steps to the hallway. "You okay?"

  "Yeah." His voice is hollow. He turns to me with a smile. But it's fake. His blue eyes are still nervous. "You find the place okay?"

  "Yeah." I move in close enough to feel the heat of his body, to smell the mint on his breath. "Are your parents here?"

  "Not yet. They had to run an errand."

  "Was their flight okay?"

  "Yeah."

  "You guys talk about anything?"

  "A little. We had coffee then they took a nap." His eyes stay on his shoes. His voice stays hollow.

  "Wasn't that the master bedroom we had sex in?"

  "I changed the sheets." He rubs my shoulder with his palm. His other hand plants between my shoulder blades. Finally, his eyes meet mine. "You look gorgeous."

  "Thanks."

  "You always do." He pulls my body into his.

  He's shaking. It's almost imperceptible, but it's there in his shoulders and his hands. He's terrified about something.

  I press my cheek against his. "You want to talk about it?"

  "No." He drags his hand over my hips. His fingers brush the flesh of my ass, the back of my legs, the hem of my dress.

  He slides his hand under my dress.

  His fingers skim my inner thighs. "We have time."

  "Time…"

  He presses his palm against my sex, over my panties. "Time."

  Fuck, it's a compelling argument. There must be something wrong with me, because I'm considering it. Here. In the bathroom. Back at his car. I don't care, so long as I get all his attention and affection for a few minutes.

  My libido is raging enough to destroy common sense.

  Or maybe that's just the power of Mal.

  He has that heaviness to him today.

  I want to help ease his burden, however I can. It's not a friendly desire. It's not sexual either.

  I'm very willing to fuck Mal out of his misery.

  But I want more than that.

  I ache for Mal.

  He brings his other hand to my chin and tilts my head enough for us to be eye to eye.

  His eyelids flutter closed as he presses his lips to mine.

  My heart still aches but now it's warm too.

  This isn't casual.

  Does he feel it too?

  Does he realize it?

  The way he's kissing me, all soft and sweet and affectionate—he must feel something.

  A laugh jerks me out of my thoughts. I jump backwards.

  Ethan and Violet are standing in the lobby.

  He smiles. "Why am I not surprised?"

  "We're just talking." I smooth my dress so it's no longer riding up my leg.

  Ethan nods right. He's dressed up in slacks and an oxford shirt. Violet looks as polished and pretty as she did at the after-party in a fit-and-flare black dress with sheer lace sleeves.

  Okay, the outfit is also really sexy. The purple peep toe heels, crimson lips, and perfect smoky eye—not to mention the way her strawberry blonde hair is pinned back—only add to the goth sexpot vibe.

  She smiles. "They never believe denials. I learned that the hard way. It's better to say nothing than to deny."

  He wraps his arm around her waist. "Should they test that theory by asking what we
were doing before we came?"

  She clears her throat.

  "Thanks. I'll consider that." I try my best smile, but it's hard with all that frustration obvious in Mal's expression. "Should we get our table or wait?"

  Ethan and Violet share a look. Then Ethan and Mal share a look.

  Mal steps forward. "Why don't we sit down?" He makes eye contact with the hostess.

  "Sure, sir." She grabs an impressive stack of menus. "Right this way."

  We follow her into the quiet restaurant. It's a beautiful place overlooking Newport Harbor. The vibe is more romantic than familial—mostly couples staring into each other's eyes over the candlelight—but we're far enough in the corner that it doesn't matter.

  Ethan and Violet take seats at the eight-person round table. She taps her crimson nails against the cream tablecloth.

  Mal points to the seat with the best view of the harbor and pulls out the chair for me. Right now, he really looks like a nice boy to bring home to my parents. Not that my parents really care whether or not I date nice boys.

  I slide into the seat and cross my legs. Shit, what do you do here? I don't go to fancy dinners. Only high school and college graduation.

  I unfold my napkin and place it my lap. There.

  "Piper give an ETA?" Mal asks.

  Ethan nods. "She's on her way."

  Mal and Ethan share a knowing look.

  Violet clears her throat. "It's sweet you came, Lacey."

  "You do know you're bait, right?" Ethan asks.

  Violet clears her throat.

  "No, it's fine. I know. I'm just not sure why I'm compelling bait." I play with the edges of my napkin. Mal is still staring vacantly at the harbor. He's not really in the conversation.

  "Mal doesn't date. He fucks." She looks around the room with a blush. "Excuse me. He, ahem, and even then, he insists those women fill the spaces that work for his life. He doesn't make room for anyone. But with you…"

  Ethan laughs. "Honey, you realize how cutting that was?"

  "It was, wasn't it?" Her brow furrows. "Sorry, Mal, I didn't mean it as an insult. You know what you want and demand it. That's more than a lot of people can say."

  Mal's nod is still vacant.

  "I'm not the best with tact. But you should know… um, we all want Mal to be happy." She looks to Mal. "Really, you deserve it."

  "We're just having fun," he says.

  Does he still feel like that?

 

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