by Cari Quinn
“Until…” She lifted her arm. “Yeah, I remember.”
He unlocked the door and flipped on the lights. “Don’t expect much.”
“Don’t…are you kidding?” Her soft-soled shoes didn’t make a sound on the hardwood, but it didn’t stop her from doing a twirl as she took in the industrial and brick loft he called home. She dragged her fingers over the jet-colored granite countertop of his island. A huge cement sink kept with the dark flavor of the kitchen. The rest was stainless steel appliances and pewter tile.
It wasn’t a huge space, but she took the time to walk around it. She checked out the large scale paintings he had on the walls. And the huge windows looking out on the city. When she spotted the ladder, she gave him a raised brow. “This is way cooler than I expected.”
“And they call you the charming one.”
Ricki let out a sexy little laugh. “Sorry, can’t help it. I was expecting white walls and knockoff IKEA furniture.”
He shrugged. His last apartment had been exactly that. Then again, his last place was only half a step up from her shitbox.
She went for the stairs and he followed up to the small loft that looked over the space. A California King bed took up most of the square footage with a matching dresser and armoire. She disappeared into his en suite bath and came back, her eyes huge. “We’ll be trying that out later.”
“I like a good steam.”
“That kind of steam shower you’ll need a gallon of electrolytes to recover.”
“Worth it.”
She grinned and unzipped the fitted hoodie she was wearing. The spit dried in his mouth as she revealed the lacy contraption under it. He was expecting a damn sports bra from the rest of the comfort going on in her outfit. Hell, the whole day had been full of twists and turns. Christmas decorating, impromptu gate crashing by his step-mommy, then ending in a panic attack.
Now…cotton over lace.
Whiplash much?
Fuck.
“I think I need a little something to make me forget tonight.”
“Whatever you need.”
Her long fingers slid up her smooth belly to cup her tit. “You. I just need you.” She released her breast and took his hand to replace hers. “Soft. I know we don’t really know how to do soft, but I just need…” Her eyes glittered bright in the shadows of his room. The only light came from the living space below.
He flicked his thumb over her tight nipple pushing through the lace. It wasn’t one of her push-up contraptions. No, this was just sheer black lace over creamy skin. He lowered his mouth to take her nipple, the scratchy lace abrading his tongue as he wet the whole area.
She slid her fingers up along the regrowth along his neck and up to the top of his head. He lifted her up and wound her legs around him. When she winced, he slowed down even more. It was hard to keep his shit in check around her. She made him want to take and take—but to give as well. And he needed to remember the giving part. Especially tonight.
He sat on the edge of the mattress and let her straddle him.
She reached between them with her left hand. “So hard for me.” She caught his mouth in a slow, wet kiss. “Always so hard.”
He grunted into her mouth, letting a low moan connect through their tongues as she undulated against his denim-clad cock.
“I want to ride this.” She pushed him back on the bed. “Will you let me?” She shoved at his shirt until he lifted it off and tossed it on the floor. She crawled up and laved her tongue over his nipple. She traced the intricate tattoos that decorated his chest.
She didn’t ask a zillion questions about the meaning behind them. She just used him as her own personal coloring book with her tongue as the ink.
Christ, she made him insane.
The entire time she slithered over his chest, her lace and silky skin alternating and crazy-making. He wanted to grip her hips and roll her over. He wanted to take control and push himself so far into her that there was no doubt of what he felt for her. What he needed from her. But it wasn’t about him tonight. As much as it pained him to hold back, he allowed her to pin him to bed.
The familiar crisp cotton of his sheets and comforter burned into his back and his forearms as she lifted his arms over his head with her left hand. Her right was sore, he could tell, but she used it to smooth her hands over his ribs and pecs before she scraped his skin with teeth and nails.
He could break her hold at any time. But he wanted to see what his little Ricki would do to him.
Just how far she’d take it.
She rolled up to straddle him before standing on his bed over him. “Stay right there.”
He folded his arms behind his neck. “All right.”
She stared down at him as she rolled her skinny jeans down her endless legs and tossed them over the edge before kneeling over him again. “You must have been freaked out tonight if you’re allowing me to do this.”
He lifted one hand to cup her breast, sliding his fingers between her breasts to lightly circle her throat. “I’d do anything for you.” He traced his thumb up her chin to drag it across her bottom lip. “Be anything for you.”
She bit the pad of his thumb. “I just want you.” She tugged at his belt and dragged his jeans down his thighs. He toed off his boots and flicked off his jeans.
He gripped her hips to settle her back against his dick. “You fucking have me.”
“Show me.”
He ripped the little string at her hip. The scrap of lace fell away and he lifted her up enough to slide her over his aching shaft. Her head tipped back as he lowered her slowly. Fuck, so goddamn slowly he was afraid he was going to lose it.
Heat engulfed him followed by the scent of plums. Her unique scent and his darker, earthy one mixed together to make his head spin. But he wanted those wild blue eyes—needed to see her take him this slow.
He grasped the back of her head, twining his fingers through her hair until she had no choice but to look at him.
“Malachi.”
Fuck. The way she said his name never ceased to ruin him.
Her hips snapped forward as she sunk the final few inches and took all of him.
His eyeballs threatened to reel back in his freaking head. So soft and perfect. He’d never gone bare with a woman before Ricki. And he never wanted a barrier between them ever again. Even something so inconsequential as latex.
He rolled up inside her again and gritted his teeth against each ripple of her pleasure squeezing around his cock. Sweat slicked between his shoulder blades as he slowly moved under her. As he let her take the lead and use him as she saw fit.
She wrapped her left arm around his neck. He gathered her other arm and hand, lacing their fingers together between their bodies. He pressed his forehead to hers and ached with each whimper she let free. She was so close. He knew what he needed to do to push her over, to let her fly.
But he also didn’t want to let her go yet.
He wanted to lengthen this moment until there was nothing but sweat and sighs.
His body had other plans. As usual, he had little control when it came to this woman. His head, his heart, his body—she owned all the pieces of him. She just didn’t realize it yet. And he was so fucking afraid to let her know.
She could break him.
Far beyond anyone in his life, she could shatter him.
He locked his fingers behind her head and dragged her mouth to his as he pumped inside of her. She sighed out his name again as her right hand twisted and flattened against his chest. Could she feel the way his heart raced and tripped for her?
He swallowed each sigh, each flutter of response from inside her, and finally, the sob that broke against his lips.
He held on tighter. Lost himself to the rushing blackness of release as he came inside her. He banded his arms around her waist until there was no air between them, nothing but skin and heat.
Her head fell to his shoulder and her limbs practically melted around him, but he didn’t let go.
Would never let her go.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Saturday morning came with a rare show of rain against the windows. Ricki was stretched out diagonally across the bed. For someone who gave him shit about needing a king-sized bed, she sure took advantage of the space.
Then again, he didn’t mind waking to her wound around him. He’d gotten up to take a piss and a shower before she took over his bathroom. Instead of noticing he’d left her, she did a sprawl. The fact that she rested a little more easily with her shoulder gave him hope.
He’d push for physical therapy after they got through the service for Randy. It was going to be a long emotional day. Hell, the last few days had been a maelstrom of shit. From the meeting with Donovan and his new security detail headed by Aidan Roth, to the equally frustrating meeting with the police, they’d both been wrung out.
The fact that Donovan didn’t want them to give many details to the cops left him restless and pissy. He didn’t trust a cop as far as he could throw one, but Donovan was playing things close to the vest as usual. The fucker was more secretive than a damn spy in a Bond movie.
All of it left him twitchy as hell.
He knew Ricki had picked up on it too, but she chose to go into her positive, chipper mode instead of his default—asshole. The girls were all over her via text and phone calls, but she’d proposed a night in, just the two of them. So they’d binge watched the Die Hard movies while eating Chinese food and some weird concoction called White Trash. Normally, he wasn’t much into sweets, but he’d helped her eat the whole fucking bowl of it.
The fact that he’d used her chest as a plate for the white chocolate and salty treat had made it a little extra palatable. Which was why he needed an extra long shower that morning. Once he started macking on her exceptional breasts, he’d ended up fucking her into the damn headboard.
Both of them had wanted to extend the night as long as possible. Anything so they didn’t have to deal with the emotional showdown that would be Randy’s service. He only hoped they could keep the press away from the small get-together. It had been a couple weeks, so the vultures had moved onto the next entertainment carcass. It was Los Angeles, so there was a never-ending supply.
He perched on the edge of the bed then followed a rich, chocolate-colored curl down between her shoulder blades to where the gray sheets pooled at the curve of her delectable ass and lower back. He was getting used to the dark hair, but he secretly hoped she’d go back to blond sometime soon. He leaned down and kissed her exposed skin. “Up and at ‘em, lazy.”
She moaned, pressing her face between two of the pillows at the head of the bed.
Mal tugged the sheet down and smacked one naked cheek. “Into the shower with you.”
“Fuck off.”
He leaned down and bit the same cheek and she squealed. He was tempted to peel her open and fuck her awake, but they didn’t have enough time.
She kicked out with a frustrated grunt, then dragged the sheet over her head. “No.”
“Yes.” He stood and whipped off the sheet.
She dragged a pillow up and over her chest. “Hey!”
“Nothing I haven’t seen, Ricki. Get your ass in the shower. We have to leave in an hour.”
“Hour?” She pushed her hair out of her face. “Do I look like I take an hour to get ready?”
“Today you will. Go on.” He nodded to the dry cleaning bag hanging off his armoire.
Her grouchy snarl dissolved as her big blue eyes grew damp.
“Hey.” He crawled across the bed, his towel falling away as he climbed behind her. He sucked at the tears thing, but they were probably going to be in abundance today—evidently, he’d be getting a crack at them early. Instead of trying to hide it, she turned and wrapped herself around him. She buried her face in his neck and the tears multiplied.
Helpless to the tornado of emotions, he just held on to her. By the time she was done, she’d gone from hiccuping sobs to soft sighs. She pulled back with a sniff. “Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize.”
She cupped his face. “I know you hate this stuff, but thanks for letting me get it out before the memorial. I’m sure there will be more, but at least I got most of it out now. I just know as soon as I see Jules, I’m going to fucking lose it.”
“I’m pretty sure there won’t be a dry eye in there once people see Juliet.”
She used the backs of her hands to dash away a few more rolling tears. “Yeah. I just wish she hadn’t completely shut me out. I mean, I get it, but God, I hate that we’re so divided. That I allowed us to stay so divided. We started texting again a little, but it’s still so awkward.”
“You needed to figure your shit out too. Don’t forget that.”
“Not like her.”
He slid his fingers into her hair. “Yes, you did. You got hurt and you still have to work on that. I know you’re going to play again. You’re not a quitter. In fact, you’ve worked harder than any of us in some respects. You had to start over twice.”
She frowned at him. “No, I didn’t.”
“You had to get clean to join the band. And now you have to begin again.”
“It was just one slip,” she whispered.
“Not that.” He rested his hand on her right shoulder. “Here. You have been babying this—I get it,” he said before she could interrupt. “It’s only been a few weeks, but you’ve been letting that fear hold you back. I know you’re going to be back to playing on that stage in no time because I believe in you.”
Tears spilled out of her eyes again.
“Shit. I didn’t mean to make you cry.”
She threw her arms around his shoulders. “That’s the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me.”
“Don’t get used to it.”
“You keep this up, I’ll have to rethink that Oscar the Grouch tattoo I was going to buy for you for Christmas.”
“Fuck off.”
A giggle filled the loft area of his apartment. “Only you would get offended by me calling you sweet.”
He lifted her off his lap and set her on the bed. “Up. Crying time is over.”
She rolled off the bed. “All right. You’re still sweet though.”
“Take it back.”
“Nope. Sorry, the secret is out.”
“You tell anyone and I’ll take you over my knee.”
Her eyes flashed. “Promise?”
“Go get in the goddamn shower.”
“I’m going.” Ricki hurried to the bathroom. Before she disappeared, she peeked her head out. “Mal?”
He turned to her.
“Thanks.”
A lump grew in his throat. Instead of answering, he just nodded and took her tremulous smile like a punch. He strode over to his dry cleaning bag. He hadn’t worn a suit since his mother’s last wedding, but today called for it. There was rejecting societal norms and there was respect. Today was for respect.
By the time he slid his suit jacket on, Ricki was blow-drying her hair.
They’d picked up all her girl shit on one of their trips out for meetings and food and now his damn bathroom smelled of her lush plum bodywash. He wasn’t sure how and when he’d started missing it combined with the peppermint scent, but he did.
Getting fucking soft on a woman. Jesus.
She came out in her towel, fluffing her hair in some chick fashion. Her face was nearly makeup free, just a bit of lipstick and something that made her huge eyes seem even larger and more fragile.
Fuck.
He knew she wasn’t fragile—these past weeks had proven it over and over again even if she didn’t think so. It didn’t stop him from wanting to shield her from the pain that would be coming at her today.
She did some head bow and twist with her left arm and flipped her hair back. Then stopped. “Whoa.”
He stepped toward her. “What?”
“You own a suit?” She hiked her towel up and tightened the tuck between her breasts before walking a c
ircle around him. “I’m not sure what to say.”
He crossed his arms over his chest, then winced and dropped his arms to his sides. He’d been hitting the weight bench and his kit too much lately. The shoulders barely fit him.
She walked her fingers up his arm. “You look like one of those hot bodyguards who got stuffed in a suit. Kinda hot.”
He felt the heat crawl up his neck enough that he had to fight the urge to tug his collar away.
She leaned up and kissed his cheek. “Thank you for wearing a suit today.”
He slid his arm around her waist. It was getting more and more natural to do it. He lowered his mouth to hers and gave her a brief kiss. “I didn’t wear it for you.”
“I know. I’ll take the benefits though.” She grabbed his butt before sliding away to pull on her underthings.
He paced the length of his bedroom, but when she bent over to pull on her stockings, he knew he needed to get out of there. He couldn’t watch her girl-up. He already had to stuff down a truckload of guilt with the semi popping up with all those long limbs on display.
“Five minutes,” he said on a growl.
She threw a look over her shoulder. “You said I had an hour.”
“That was forty minutes ago.”
“Creative math?”
He headed for the stairs. More like he was going to toss her over his shoulder and take her out of the city if he had to keep thinking about where they were going. “Five minutes.”
“I’ll be ready.”
He grabbed his wallet and jangled his keys in his hand as he paced in front of the window. The rain had let up already. Shocker. California didn’t get much rain to speak of, but it seemed even the heavens were shedding a few tears for Randy.
After shoving his keys and his wallet in his pocket, Mal laced his fingers behind his head and arched his back to throw off some of the tension sitting on his shoulders. Facing these people would be rough for her, but he couldn’t say he was excited at the prospect. He wasn’t a religious man, but he had to hope Randy went to a better place. And that he was watching out for Tristan and Jules. Not to mention the little one on the way.
Juliet hadn’t owned up to her pregnancy yet, even if the whole band knew it. But that kid was going to be loved.