A Wicked Song

Home > Other > A Wicked Song > Page 5
A Wicked Song Page 5

by Jones, Lisa Renee


  Kace moans with the flick of my tongue and cups the back of my head, deepening the kiss. In a shared breath, the divide between us of hours before is gone, and we sink into the kiss, into each other. The room fades, silent but for the sounds of need for one another, and the fingers of my free hand tangle in his hair, holding him to me.

  His hand slides up my spine, strong and firm, and settles between my shoulder blades, his lips parting mine, his eyes meeting mine. A sense of exactly what he said, belonging here and now, together, swells between us, a flame that simmers and then ignites.

  In this moment, the need to remove anything and everything between us overcomes me. I reach for the hem of my shirt but my injured hand and laden arm won’t seem to cooperate. Kace catches the cloth with me.

  “I’ll do it,” he offers, and when my hands fall away in silent approval, he gently eases my shirt over my head and my arm, tossing it away.

  I’m left in a lacy black bra that he bought me and somehow that very idea feels all the more intimate. His hot gaze slides over the swell of my breasts beneath the lace before he folds me against him, his breath warm on my nipples.

  He kisses me, just lips to lips, a soft caress, before he unhooks my bra, his hands sliding under the straps to slide it down my shoulders. My lashes lower with the heat radiating off his body into mine. I lean back and let the bra fall away, my nipples puckering in the cool air.

  His hands caress my sides, and settle on my hips. When I open my eyes, he’s watching me, not my naked body but my face. Slowly his gaze lowers, my breasts heavy, my sex clenched. And when his eyes meet mine again, he murmurs, “God, you’re beautiful.” He folds me into him, pressing my naked breasts to his naked chest, his lips brushing mine once more before he lowers me to the couch.

  “We’re going upstairs where we have more room and I know I won’t hurt you.”

  “I’m okay right here.”

  “Until we hit your hand.” He stands and takes me with him, reaching for my pants. “But we can leave these here. They bother me.”

  I laugh and a blink later, it seems I’m naked. Completely naked and he is not. This is not a first with Kace. In fact, it’s a theme between us. With any other man, I’d feel vulnerable, but Kace is different. And this is not just about the bedroom games he plays. It’s about control, something I’ve decided is important to Kace for reasons beyond dominance. I think it’s about his father. About his life on the road that started so very young. I think it’s about death and loss. Tonight, it’s about our fight, about almost losing me.

  He scoops me up and starts walking.

  I curl into him, my hand on his thundering heart that tells his secret: he’s not fully in control. There’s power in this knowledge but I don’t want power. He can have it. I just want him. And his thundering heart tells me what I’ve wanted to know: he’s here, really here with me. He’s all here with me. And I with him.

  Kace climbs the stairs to my bedroom and lays me down on my back, leaning over me, his hands on either side of me. “Don’t move,” he orders softly.

  He pushes off of me and stands up.

  I move.

  I lift up to my one good elbow, watching him reach for his pants. He pauses and fixes me in his stare. “You really are horrible at following orders.”

  “I prefer orders given while you’re naked and up close and personal.”

  His lips quirk. “Is that right?” he asks, removing a condom from his pocket, and about ten seconds later, he’s naked, his cock jutting out, hard and thickly veined. He is hard all over, a perfect masculine specimen by anyone’s taste. And those tattoos, musical notes that dance a path all around his ripped abs and further down, get me every time.

  He tears open the package holding the condom and my gaze jerks to his.

  “Yes. And I’ll, of course, be perfectly submissive when you’re up close and personal.”

  He laughs, closing the space between us and when his knees hit the mattress, I ease onto my back. He’s over me a moment later, his powerful legs shackling mine. “Here I am.” The sweet weight of his body settles onto mine as he asks, “Now are you going to take orders?”

  I wrap my arms around his neck. “What orders, Kace?”

  He rolls us to our sides, the thick pulse of his erection between my thighs, while he has managed to ensure my injured hand is out of harm’s way, and I know this is no accident. Kace does nothing by accident. I’ve learned that already about him.

  “Not tonight,” he says. “No orders tonight. No games tonight.” He strokes a hand through my hair and tilts my face to his. “But if I could order you to trust me, I would, but then it wouldn’t matter as much if it was a demand, now would it?”

  “No,” I whisper. “No, I suppose it wouldn’t.”

  “You can trust me, Aria,” he vows.

  He wants me to say that I do. I want to say I do, but my life isn’t that simple. We have proven we are not that simple.

  “I want to believe that,” I say instead because it’s true. I have never wanted to trust anyone the way I want to trust Kace.

  He breathes out and presses his forehead to mine. “I hate that you don’t know you can.”

  I pull back and look at him. “We’re naked in bed together Kace. We aren’t in a bad place. I just—my life has been about—”

  “Fear.”

  “Yes,” I say, and it matters to me that he understands. “Fear.”

  “I need you to know that I understand, probably more than you think I do.”

  My mind goes back to the words he’d spoken outside the ER: I do know you, but that still requires me trusting you and I’ve had plenty of reasons in my life not to offer you that trust. Reasons you don’t know. Many reasons, Aria. Many betrayals. But I give you my trust anyway.

  I don’t know what his betrayals might be, but I know they splinter painfully and bleed into the center of the darkness that I’ve always sensed in him. Suddenly I don’t want this to be all about me trusting him. I want it to be about him trusting me. “You can trust me, too. I know you said that you do, but I just want you to know that you can.”

  A sharp emotion flickers in his eyes but before I can even begin to name it, his mouth lowers to mine, his breath a warm fan on my lips. “I’ll be gentle. I don’t want to hurt you.”

  For just a moment, I’m not sure if he’s talking about my hand or my heart and I never get the chance to find out. His mouth closes down over my mouth. His tongue licks past my teeth and one hand flattens between my shoulder blades, molding me close. His kiss is velvety warm and liquid sweet. His taste is both demanding and somehow gentle. His hands are magical, and I swear I can feel the glide of his fingers down my spine in every part of me. My nipples tingle, my sex clenches and as if he knows this is the perfect moment, he presses inside me, hard and thick. I moan with the feel of him, arching against the shock and pleasure.

  He swallows the moan with his kiss, and I can feel the intensity in him, the arousal, the need, and it affects me. I am burning alive for this man. The heat between us is searing, and with my good hand buried between us, my injured arm is all I have to hold onto him and it’s not enough. Kace seems to know, though. He cups my backside and drives into me, rocketing sensations through me. I pant and arch into him. His hand is on my breast, fingers teasing my nipples, and when he nips at my lip and tugs on my nipple at the same time, my back arches. He thrusts into me, tangles fingers into my hair and kisses me. We are in a wild frenzy that becomes soft, sultry, erotic, tender even. It no longer feels like sex. It feels like something much deeper, something I have never known. It’s in that place, with this amazing man, that we both tumble into release, and each other.

  When it’s over, we don’t speak, but that tenderness between us doesn’t fade. We end up naked under the blankets, the lights out and our warm bodies pressed close.

  And in the darkness, that fear we discussed is a shooting star that streaks into the distance and fades awa
y. Lying here in Kace’s arms, it too has faded. It’s gone, at least for one night.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  I wake to my arm frozen on top of the mattress. It—won’t—move. “Oh God,” I whisper and roll to my back, with no sensation in my limb at all. “Oh God!”

  Kace is instantly leaning over me, one hand on each side of my body, his body over mine. “What is it? Pain?”

  “I can’t move my arm. That stupid shot they gave me did something to my arm. It’s bad, Kace. I can’t move it.”

  “What shot?”

  “Tetanus,” I say, trying to move my arm again and failing. “It won’t move. It won’t move!”

  “Maybe it’s just asleep.”

  I shake my head. “I don’t think so. It feels dead.”

  He dares to laugh. Asshole. “It’s not dead,” he assures me, rubbing my arm for a few seconds. Suddenly some feeling returns.

  “Okay, maybe it’s not dead,” I concede. “I think I was laying on it, but please keep rubbing it because I have never experienced this level of dead arm.”

  “I got it and you,” he promises, his lips curve at the edges. “I have experienced this, especially after a long show.”

  I start moving my arm around. “Oh thank God. It’s still not right from that shot but it’s alive. And,” I add, “this is a very sexy way to wake up with me, right?”

  His gaze does a hot sweep of my naked body and then back up at me. “It’s pretty sexy, baby. And you even gave me an excuse to put my hands all over you. Not that I need one.” He shifts to settle between my legs, his hands on my hips, his lips pressing to my belly. “How about I give you something other than your arm to think about?”

  Already my arm is forgotten and my heart is racing. “I’m pretty sure you’ve already succeeded,” I dare to confess.

  His eyes light and his mouth, such a delicious mouth, curves. “I’m just getting started,” he promises and his thumb strokes the sensitive skin just inside my hip bones, sending a rush of goosebumps all over my skin. Another caress and my sex clenches, my hips arching into the touch. Kace responds by leaning in, his longish dark hair tickling my belly as his tongue flicks into my belly button.

  I gasp with the wet, warm sensation and that’s when a strange beeping sound pulses in the air. I blink in confusion while Kace groans and buries his face in my belly. “That,” he says, tilting those perfect blue eyes my way, “is my alarm. I have a meeting across town.” He glances at his watch and grimaces. “Way too soon, considering I have to go home and change.” He leans in and kisses my belly again and then to my shock, slides lower, and the next thing I know, his deliciously skilled tongue, licks my clit. Just one sizzling lick.

  “That’s to give you something to think about today,” he declares, the erotic heat in his eyes almost as scorching as his tongue.

  “That’s just evil,” I accuse, but there is a stab of broader disappointment overtaking the heat he’s so easily stirred in my body. He’s leaving. For someone who never wanted to see him again, I really don’t want him to leave.

  He kisses my belly. “Just making sure you miss me.”

  “Again,” I say, my legs pressing to his sides, holding him in place. “Evil.”

  He winks and scrapes his teeth on my knee before salving the sting with his tongue. A touch I feel in my sex, exactly where he needs to be right now. “I promise to make it up to you.” He shifts out of the grip of my legs and rolls off of me, my body silently groaning in protest, but it’s too late to pull him back. He’s now sitting up on the edge of the bed to grab his phone on the nightstand.

  I scoot up the mattress and holding the sheet to my chest, sit up and lean against the headboard. Kace is already standing, walking in all his naked hotness to my side of the bed, where he grabs his pants. “Our donor for the violins for the California event is meeting me at the attorney’s office to sign the documents today,” he explains. “I’m taking possession and Mark is securing them in his vault.” He pulls on his boxer briefs and then his pants.

  Understanding washes over me. He’s leaving for a good reason and with that knowledge comes relief, driving home how much his departure really bothered me. “Those are expensive violins. One man is donating all of them?”

  “A different donor for the ones in California than New York but yes, the donations are generous as hell. I still have to sign the papers on these particular instruments and he’s leaving the country in the morning.” He walks to the other side of the bed again, grabs his T-shirt from a blue cushy chair, and pulls it over his head. I, in turn, indulge myself by watching all his muscles flex before he’s covered up and pulling on his socks and boots. “He’s a bit of a cranky bird, too, or I’d make him wait.” He closes the space between me and before I know his intent, he’s caught my arm, pulled me out from under the sheet, and up into his arms. I am now naked and once again, he is not, one of his hands cupping my bare backside, the other resting on my shoulder. “I’ll have to be gone a big chunk of the day, but I’ll be back as soon as I can. That is if you don’t lock me out after I leave.”

  My good hand flattens on his chest. “You know I’m not going to do that. Why would you even say such a thing?”

  His lips press together, consternation in the firm line that tells me he’s quite serious. “You could start doubting me as soon as I leave.”

  My fingers wrap in his T-shirt, my chin tilting up, my eyes meeting his. “No.”

  He stares down at me, his lashes half-veiled, the lines of his handsome face pulled hard. “Are you sure about that?” he challenges.

  “Yes. Very. I am very sure about that.”

  “Then stay with me tonight. Or hell, I’ll stay with you again. I don’t care where we stay.”

  That location being a control thing is back in play, but after his remark about being locked out, and all the intimate secrets of his life he’s shared, I decide he needs it more than me. And I want to know more about his world. “I’d love to stay with you.”

  I can feel the tension slide from his body and his hand settles on the side of my head, a dominant and yet somehow tender gesture. “I have to take the donor to lunch which wasn’t my initial plan. Between this and our unexpected challenges, I put the meeting with Walker on hold until I knew you’d still agree to the meeting. We’ll reschedule it right away and find your brother. Yes?”

  “Yes. Please.”

  “I’ll handle it. It could be late afternoon when I get done. I’ll come back and get you.”

  “That’s perfect. I have some work to do anyway.”

  He squeezes my backside. “I really do not want to leave you right now.”

  His voice is low, rough, affected. My body is aching, breasts heavy. “I don’t want you to leave, but I know why you have to.”

  “You do.” He strokes my hair and then catches my fingers in his. “I want to see your hand before I leave.” He’s already leading me into my tiny bathroom, where he grabs my robe from behind the door and holds it out for me.

  “If you stand there naked much longer, I’m not leaving.”

  A smile on my lips, I quickly slide into the robe and then turn to face him. He quickly ties the sash at my waist. “Let me see your hand.”

  “You need to go.”

  “I need to know you’re okay.”

  “It doesn’t even hurt all that badly this morning.”

  He backs me up and sets me on the toilet, going down on a knee beside me. There’s a shower at his elbow now. It’s a tiny space and he’s a big man. He’s also a rich man in my very humble space but if he notices, he doesn’t show it at all. He reaches for my bandage. I pull my hand back. “You have to go. And I don’t want to unwrap it yet. I’m fine.”

  His hands settle on my knees. “You’re sure?”

  “Positive.”

  He studies me, his blue eyes probing, something ticking in the air around him.

  “What?” I ask, suddenly nervous about what
he wants to say and has not.

  “In defiance of a highly public life, I am a private person. The things I shared with you, the things I share with you in the future are for your ears only.”

  “Are you serious, Kace? I’m Aria Stradivari. I’m not going to burn you. And you have insurance. I know how badly you could burn me.”

  “You see,” he says, “that is just one more of the reasons I didn’t want to tell you I knew who you were. I don’t want your loyalty because I hold something over your head. I will never use that against you. Ever.”

  I can feel the blood drain from my face. He’s been betrayed. He’s told me that. He’s now showed me as well. “And now,” I say, going where these realizations lead me, “because I said that, because I know you know who I am, you think I’m only loyal because of that.” I don’t give him time to reply. I cover his hands with mine. “It’s not true. That isn’t who I am. You sharing all you shared with me, matters to me, it matters deeply. I would never betray your trust.”

  He strokes my hair. “I believe you. And I’m glad that it does. This isn’t about you proving yourself to me. Not at all. I just need you to understand why I made the decision I made and that it was not out of malice.”

  “I know that. We’ve talked about this, Kace.”

  “I come with the baggage that is my past, Aria. That past is a part of me even if I don’t want it to be. It guides my decisions.”

  “Like not telling me you knew who I was.”

  “Yes. Among other things. Some of that past you won’t like. In fact, I’m certain you’ll want to run away.”

  “And if I don’t?”

  “I’m not ready to find out now.”

  “I don’t even need to know.”

  He cuts his stare and then fixes me back in his turbulence gaze. “If only it were that simple, but we’re together now. And we both know that’s not the foundation for a relationship.” His cellphone rings and a muscle in his jaw tics as he grabs it from his pocket. “Mark,” he tells me before he leans back on his haunches and answers. “Morning, sunshine,” he greets.

 

‹ Prev