Dangerous Fling: A Rock Star Romance (Dangerous Noise Book 4)
Page 25
She shakes.
Again. "I only want you to hurt enough you feel good."
"Mal—"
Again.
"Please—"
I stop myself mid-air. "Please, what?"
"I don't know."
She's almost at her limit. I only need to push her a little further.
I bring the toy back into the air and I bring it down hard against her ass.
Lacey groans as she tries to tug at the window. "Again."
This is the last one. I bring the toy up into the air and I bring it down on her flesh.
She groans so loudly the room shakes. Something in her posture changes.
"On the bed on your back."
She blinks as she straightens her body. Her brown eyes are fuzzy. She's lost in the overflow of adrenaline and dopamine, the rush of pleasure that follows the pain.
Her hips sway as she moves onto the bed. She falls back onto the comforter and spreads her legs.
She's utterly pliable.
Utterly mine.
I toss the riding crop aside and pull my t-shirt over my head. I need inside her, but I need her coming on my face first.
I climb onto the bed and plant between her legs. My fingers curl into her inner thighs. Fuck, she's so wet I can barely get a grip.
She writhes against my hands.
She lifts her hips, reaching for my lips.
"Mal." The single word is a plea. For me, for more, for an orgasm, for everything.
I want to give her everything.
For once, I'm actually asking myself where the fuck I find everything.
I bring my mouth to her cunt. I tease her hole. I suck on her lips. I flick my tongue against her clit. I lick her up and down, left and right, with slow zigzags, with hard strokes.
I wait until she's groaning and writhing, then I bring my mouth to her clit and I lick her just how she needs me to.
It only takes a few moments to push her over the edge. She groans through her orgasm, pressing her thighs against my hands, tugging at my hair.
Still, I lick her.
I lick her through the it's too fucking much groans of agony.
Through the fuck, that's exactly what I need groans of ecstasy.
She screams my name as she comes on my face. Her leg finds its way around my shoulder. Her heel digs into my back. I was supposed to bind her and force her to take pleasure until she cried mercy, but this is so much fucking better—
I need her body against mine.
I need her hands and her thighs and her cunt.
I need all of her reacting to all of me.
I plant my face between her legs and I lick her hard and fast.
My name is a curse as it falls off her lips.
Her groans are agony.
Her nails scrape against my shoulder hard enough to draw blood.
I look up at her, gauging her reaction. Her eyes are closed. Her lips are parting with a sigh. Her whole body is wrecked with pleasure.
Almost.
A few more licks and she goes over the edge. She sinks her nails into my skin as she comes, groaning and shaking and screaming my name again and again.
Her hand finds my hair. She tugs, hard. "Mal. Fuck me. Please."
I drag my lips down her thigh as I pull back.
It's there in her eyes—she can't take more.
I kiss my way up her leg, over her hips, up her stomach, over her breasts. My lips brush her neck. Her jawline.
Her lips.
She melts under me.
Slowly, I shift between her legs.
With one steady thrust, I drive into her.
She cries out with that mix of agony and ecstasy.
I wrap my arms around her. I plant my lips on hers. I kiss her hard as I drive into her.
As she digs her nails into my back.
As she groans against my lips.
As she comes on my cock.
Her pulsing pushes me over the edge. With my next thrust, I come inside her. The pleasure that spreads through my pelvis is fucking intense but it's nothing compared to the feeling of being one with her.
Fuck, I'm thinking cheesy shit as I come.
I'm a goner.
When our kiss breaks, she looks up at me. Her cheeks flush, that hint of shame.
I lean down and plant another kiss on her lips. "One second, baby."
She nods as she pulls her knees into her chest.
I find the ointment in my bag then slide onto the bed next to her. "Here." I pull her body onto mine and rub the salve over her ass. I didn't hit her hard enough to leave blisters, but from the way she sighs with relief, I'd say this is helping.
"Mal, I…"
"You liked it?"
She nods. "I don't know why that's making me feel so mixed up."
"It's normal." I rub her lower back with my thumb. "It's a head trip when pain turns to pleasure. It's okay you feel confused."
"I would have done anything you asked."
"I know."
"I think…" Her voice drops to a whisper. "I think you were right about shutting out the world."
"Good." Affection flows through me as I run my fingers through her hair. I don't usually feel this connection during after-care. Hell, I typically avoid anything intense enough it will require after-care.
But I want intimacy with Lacey.
I want everything with Lacey.
I still have no fucking idea how to offer more than this.
33
Mal
We shower. We order room service. I slip the security guard a hundred so we can skinny dip at the pool after hours.
What we do when we get back to the room is as close to making love as I've ever gotten.
Falling asleep with Lacey in my arms is comforting and terrifying at the same time.
Waking up to her standing in front of the window, taking in the blue sky, is fucking heaven.
Then she turns to me with a sad smile, one that reminds me we're about to go straight to hell.
We spend the day with my mom as she goes through another round of tests. Okay, we spend most of the day with my dad in Mom's empty hospital room, waiting for doctors to bring her back.
It's easier getting through this with Lacey's hand pressed against mine.
We don't leave until the hospital is ready to kick us out. And we don't go home. We get pho with Piper and Kit then go to their place to watch Gossip Girl on the couch for hours.
It's like that for days. Lacey sleeps over. She goes to the hospital with me. She reads us well enough to work on her laptop when it's just me and Mom and Dad and Ethan and Piper.
Then we spend the night together.
It's Thursday. Or maybe it's Friday. I'm losing track of days. There's no reason for me to know the date during off-times, not when we're done with nearly everything we need to do for the album.
Mom is sitting up in bed. We're all playing five hundred rummy on her tray table. And we're laughing over Piper putting down the last ace Ethan was waiting for.
Lacey rests her head on my shoulder. She looks up at me with a smile. It's not so much this is great, I'm so fucking happy. It's more I'm glad I get to be here for you.
She squeezes my hand and leans in to press her lips against mine.
Piper squeals and snaps a photo with her cell.
Kit chuckles and wraps his arms around her.
Ethan shakes his head. "Really?"
She nods. "Of course." She shows off the photo to everyone, even Mom and Dad. "Would you ever expected Mal to have been this cute?"
Ethan shrugs. True.
Then Mom's doctor steps into the room and we all fall silent.
Dr. Wilson adjusts her glasses. She adjusts her lab coat as she motions to the chairs around the bed. "I need to speak with you alone, Doctor Strong."
Mom looks to Dad. "My husband should be here."
The doctor presses her lips together.
Mom ignores the doctor's trepidation. "You too, Mal."
Lacey squeezes me and whispers, "I'll be outside."
She leaves with everyone else.
I move the chairs back into position.
Doctor Wilson looks to the closed door then she moves in towards the bed. She looks to me then to Dad. Her expression gets serious.
Well, more serious. She's already a serious woman.
"We've pinpointed your condition, Shirley," she says.
Mom stares back at her. "That should be good."
The doctor nods. "It's a start." Her voice is deliberate. Emotionless. "You have a weakened heart valve. With medication and lifestyle changes, you'll have another six to twelve months."
The words fall with a thud.
Six to twelve months.
That's all?
I bite my tongue. I'm here because I'm the strong one.
"It's nothing dramatic. A lot of rest. A diet with no red meat. You'll be tired the way you have been, but you'll have a good quality of life." The doctor presses her lips together. "Some people do well on treatment. It could be years."
Mom blinks.
"There's a surgery to replace the valve. It's another option, but the recovery is hard and the survival rate isn't good."
Mom's face is blank. It's like she's analyzing data, not hearing that she's going to die. "What are the numbers?"
Doctor Wilson frowns. She lowers her clipboard and leans down to look Mom in the eyes. "Fifteen percent."
My stomach twists.
Dad's jaw drops as he shrinks back. "Shirley, you can't—"
Mom shakes her head. "And I'll get my life back?"
"If recovery goes well, yes." The doctor straightens.
Mom answers right away. "I want the surgery."
"I'll let you sleep on it," the doctor says.
Dad jumps in. "Shirley, a year is good. Think of everything we can do."
She shakes her head. "I want the surgery. It's my final decision. You can ask again in the morning if you insist, but I'm not going to change my mind."
The doctor looks to Dad. Then to me. My face is frozen. My entire body is frozen. I can barely think much less move.
"I'll schedule a consult." Doctor Wilson looks at us. "Visiting hours ended at six, but I won't say anything."
She leaves the room. I can hear Piper getting up, asking someone something, but I'm not sure what it is.
I stare back at Mom. Words don't make it all the way to my brain. They fall off my lips and the blowback lands in my gut. "What the fuck, Mom?"
"I want my life, sweetheart," she says.
"What about Ethan and Piper? You give a fuck about their lives?" I ask.
"You think they want to sit around watching their mother die?" Mom looks up at me. "I know I haven't always been there when you needed me—"
"We could have a year together," I say.
"Or we could have our entire lives," she says.
"Shirley." Dad presses his lips together. "We need to think about this."
"I'll cancel the tour right now, Mom. We could spend the next six months together. We could do whatever the fuck you want." I'm grasping at straws. I can see it in her eyes—there's no way I'm convincing her. But I'm not giving up.
"Malcolm, sweetie…" She looks up at me. "You're such a nice boy. I don't know how I got so lucky."
"Then do this for me," I say.
She stares back at me with a sad smile and shakes her head. "Life is for the living."
"And you want to get back to your work?" I offer.
"You know what it's like when work is everything. But that's not all it is." She turns to Dad. "I don't want to leave you, Cam, but I'm not spending the next six months waiting to die."
He squeezes her hand.
They share a look of understanding.
Then they both look to me with a nod.
The decision is made.
And I don't get a fucking say.
34
Mal
I'm ready to throw something.
To throw every fucking thing in existence.
I sulk out of the room.
Everyone is looking at me, waiting for me to explain it. Piper is resting her head on Kit's chest.
And Ethan is leaning against the wall opposite me.
And Lacey is staring at me like she knows I'm about to break.
Piper steps forward. "What happened, Mal?"
She'd rather die than be with us.
Maybe there's another way to look at it—that she's fighting to live. That she's fighting for the life she wants.
But there's no denying that she's choosing not to take the time we could have together.
I suck a breath between my teeth and I explain the best I can. Mom has a terminal heart condition. Her two options are medication and surgery. Medication means six months, a year, maybe a few years. Surgery is likely death but possible remission.
Piper's heartbreak is written all over her blue eyes. She turns to Kit and buries her head in his chest.
He slides his arms around her and pulls her close.
If they were a cartoon, there would be hearts surrounding them. They're so clear and honest about how much they love each other.
Mom and Dad too.
Ethan's like that with Violet. But she's MIA. No, she's not here because she doesn't do well with this stuff. Not after finding her brother's body after his suicide.
He looks empty without her here. He looks as numb as I feel.
And Lacey is staring at me with all this love in her eyes.
She moves close enough to wrap her arms around me.
She doesn't ask if I'm okay.
She whispers, "You want to stay and talk or you want to go home?"
Nobody wants to talk. We're all shell-shocked.
I'm not sure I can talk. Too much is going through my head.
"Home," I whisper back.
She nods and takes my hand and leads me back to her car.
We go back to my place. We make dinner together then stare at it as we watch TV on the couch.
We have sex in my bed.
I make her come three times.
But I don't feel her there.
I don't feel anything.
35
Mal
For a week, I spend every spare minute in Mom's room. Ethan and Piper are there about half the time, sometimes one of them, sometimes both of them.
Lacey comes some of the time. Even when I tell her it should just be family, she waits outside the room, her brown eyes filled with concern.
The mood stays heavy, even when we tell stories about old times, even when we play cards, even when we watch some fucking TV rerun.
It's there every fucking moment.
The night before Mom's surgery—more the morning, really—we throw her an it's your last meal before surgery party and smuggle all her favorite foods into the hospital.
But with every single bite I think this is probably her last meal, period.
Surgery is tomorrow afternoon.
In a little more than twenty-four hours, my mom will be dead. Eighty-five percent chance.
How the fuck am I supposed to breathe again?
Ethan is leaning against the beige wall outside Mom's room. His eyes are on the window, not on me. He's watching Mom and Dad whisper something to each other.
Something that isn't for our ears.
Mom wants to sleep.
We're supposed to come back tomorrow at eight. When they start prepping her for surgery. We're supposed to wait with her as she—
"Are you listening?" Ethan pushes off the wall. "Hello. Mal? You do realize there's someone here you could boss around."
"Fuck off," I say. It's just me and Ethan. Piper left a few hours ago to beat traffic. Really, she couldn't take it anymore. She hates that she's devastated a
bout Mom. She hates that someone who hurt her by abandoning her showed up just to make a show of dying.
I don't blame Piper for running away.
It's not like I can talk.
"Is it only fun bossing around women at this point?" Ethan banters, even though I'm not bantering back. "Please tell me you've tired of bossing around your bandmates."
"In your dreams." I fold my arms and continue staring at the floor.
"Maybe you're tired of bossing around your family."
"Fuck off."
"Not that."
"What the fuck do you want me to say?"
"You uninvited Lacey," he says.
"No."
"You made it clear you don't want her here."
"And where's Violet?"
"Violet and I use words to communicate. It's this new thing. Very exciting."
I push off the wall and move towards… something. The entrance, I guess.
"Are you stupid or just committed to being miserable?"
"I don't know—"
"Yeah, you do."
I force myself to look my brother in the eyes. He knows it. I know it. I can't face it, so I might as well change the subject. "Violet broke your heart."
"Because it belonged to her."
"Still."
He stares back at me. "And?"
I shrug.
"Are you jealous or something?"
"I don't want Vi. She's like a sister."
"I know. But you are."
I take another step towards the entrance.
"I don't fucking get it, Mal. You could have that with Lacey, but you're committed to pushing her away."
I say nothing.
"You want credit for holding up the world, you have it. Let somebody help you for once."
"What the fuck are you talking about?"
"When's the last time you were fucking happy?" He stares back at me with fire in his blue eyes.
"I don't think about it like that."
"You weren't happy when Vi and I got engaged."
"Yeah, I was."
"Then why'd you stare at her ring like it gave you the plague?"
I can't lie to Ethan. I've never been able to bring myself to lie to Ethan. "You asked Piper to pick out the ring."
He runs a hand through his wavy hair. "I didn't want to lose my nerve if you told me it was a bad idea."