by Sadie Grubor
Stellar Collision
(A Falling Stars novella) book 2.5
Sadie Grubor
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
Copyright 2015 Sadie Grubor
Cover Art by VST
This book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any existing means without written permission from the publisher. Contact Author at [email protected].
This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. The characters are products of the author's imagination and used fictitiously.
Dedication:
This story is for those who couldn't wait to get more of Chris & Mia. This is for YOU.
That's right—it's for you, the person reading this.
Your dedication to this series, this cast of characters, both excites and makes me nervous. When I started Chris' journey, I never planned to go further with the group. But you loved them so much, it brought the characters into their own light.
Thank you for giving that to me.
Thank You!
Special Thanks:
I need to thank my family and friends who support my crazy aspiration to write these stories.
A special thank you goes out to my husband and kids for letting me disappear into my imaginary worlds.
To my mother, thanks for always supporting me.
To my BETA team, thank you for the ego boosts and humbling moments you provide. Also, I want to mention each of them jumped on board for a cameo in this novella and the upcoming book. You are all so awesome!
Thank you, Kara, Leeann, Marie, Bronwyn, Stephanie, Tracey, Michelle, Ruth, & Pam.
Monica, girl, you make me sound so much better than I do in real life! You Mo'Nica fo'lifeshorty!
HUGE shout outs to:
Kim Ginsberg, your hawk eye and constant support astound me.
Elaine Marie, you are so kind, supportive, and selfless. I want to be like you when I grow up.
Heather Moss, you amaze me with your willingness to support my work. I heart you, my margarita soul mate.
Danielle Piccin, my dearest warrior princess, you are such a strong woman. Thank you for being a friend.
Teresa Coleman, I still don't know what I did to deserve such a loyal reader and friend, but I'm thankful I have ya.
Lisa Figliolino, by far, I think you are my truest ride or die chic! Rock On, girl!
Blurb
Christopher Mason got more than he dared to believe he deserved: the perfect woman, a love deeper than the emotional scars he carries, and a family. But, in true Chris fashion, the greedy asshole wants more. He won't settle for anything less than a legally binding, last-name-changing event—one that can't take place soon enough.
What he isn't ready for is a discovery that will take him back to a dark place, one he refuses to repeat, but sometimes we find our largest revelations hiding in our darkest fears.
Mia and Hush are at the top of their game in the rock world. Deemed the current Queen of Rock, Mia is feeling the pressure as well as the love from the industry. She's also not happy with the lengths Chris has gone to for their wedding, but her love for the big asshole and his unwavering devotion to her is greater than her frustration.
Then, a realization puts the two of them on opposite sides and Mia worries this is the one thing their love won't be able to overcome. For the first time, Mia's own fears and emotional turmoil might outweigh Christopher.
You're cordially invited as Christopher lays his final claim.
Chapter One
Christopher Mason
"You're lucky to still be breathing," Jackson jokes, sitting back in the chair of my home studio.
"Whatever," I mumble and adjust the treble.
If I have to hear them rag on me any longer about the damn island, I may punch each of them in the goddamn balls.
"He's still being punished," Elliott adds with a laugh.
Twisting my head around, I glare at him.
"Don't give me that look. If you don't want me to find out about shit, then you need to not do stupid shit. I'm married to your woman's sister, get used to me being in your business." He leans back in his chair, raising his arms and interlocking his fingers behind his big ass head.
"Wait," Jimmy pushes up from his prone position on the couch, "what don't we know?" He motions between Jackson and himself.
"Nothing," I snap, narrowing my eyes on Elliott.
Elliott bursts out laughing, his massive body shaking.
"I'll just say Captain Emo actually has an excellent reason to be in such a pissy mood for a change," Elliott states, his answer vague enough that I think he may keep his mouth shut, but then he adds, "Since he has a raging case of blue balls."
"Mia's holding out on you?" Jimmy asks, turning wide eyes to me.
"For the past two months," Elliott explains with a laugh.
"Wait, she's known about the island for almost eight months." Jackson's brow furrows.
"Yeah," Elliott nods, "but dickhead didn't tell her how much his brilliantly romantic idea cost. She just found out through the wedding planner."
"Christ, do you have a vagina to go with your gossiping bullshit?" I growl at him.
"No, so don't try to fuck me!" Elliott brings his arms down, pointing a finger in my direction. "I don't care how desperate you are to get laid."
"Fuck off, you idiot." Growling, I spin my chair back to face the sound table.
"Damn, man," Jack sighs from my left, "that blows."
"No, it doesn't. It doesn't suck, blow, jerk, or fuck," I correct, placing my elbows on the edge of the table and burying my face in them.
If I don't get inside Mia soon, I'll lose my goddamn mind. It's such bullshit, too. I surprise her with a private island resort, for a fucking week, to get married. Even went as far as securing a wedding planner to help her with arrangements and privacy for the ceremony. And if we are totally goddamn honest right now, it's her fucking fault we have to go to such extremes. She's the one the industry has titled Current Queen of Rock. That's all on her.
Throwing myself back into my chair, I cross my arms over my chest.
"You somehow just made this her fault, didn't you?" Jackson asks, a stupid half grin on his face.
"I've done no such thing." I cock one brow at him. "She's done this to herself."
"Yeah. Okay." Jackson leans forward, moving the knobs around.
"Stop moving the bass." I slap his hand away. "This isn't fucking R&B."
He puts his hands in the air and pushes back from the table.
"You know, the last time I checked, I wrote this fucking song," he throws at me.
After readjusting the bass level, I spin in the chair.
"I wrote the melody," I counter.
"It's my girl's song," he challenges back.
Goddamn it!
"It's my studio," I verbally grasp for the win.
"Are you guys going to take your balls and go home next?" Jimmy asks, snorting at our exchange.
"Nope," Jackson says, sliding up to the table and adjusting knobs. "I just won that shit."
"Speaking of Liza, is she here?" Elliott asks, scooting his chair closer to my side.
"Nah, she's in Vegas." Jackson twists another knob.
I fist my hands in my lap, stopping myself from correcting the mess he’s making.
"Is she performing?" Elliott sounds a bit too excited
"Stop fantasizing about my girl's goodies, asshole." Jackson turns dark eyes on him.
"I'm not," he argues.
"You do sound a bit too happy about Liza performing," Jimmy adds.
"Wrong," Elliott says, shaking his head. "Vegas got m
e thinking about bachelor parties." He wiggles his brow.
Groaning, I close my eyes and drop my head back.
"Come on, you’ve gotta have a bachelor party," Elliott practically whines.
Opening my eyes, I focus on the matte white ceiling, and say, "No. I don't."
"The girls are having one," he grumbles, the chair protesting as he moves.
"What?" I ask, bringing my head up and twisting toward him.
"Serena and Mia were talking about a wedding shower and bachelorette stuff with the wedding planner last week," Elliott informs me, stretching out one arm and motioning to make a point.
"Oh, really?" I ask rhetorically, a grin spreading on my face.
So, now she's planning shit and not telling me about it? Looks like I'll be balls deep in my angel sooner than she thinks.
Mia Ryder
"Why is this so difficult?" I turn my eyes away from the triple floor-length mirrors and focus on Serena.
"You look amazing." Her eyes roam over the ivory silk gown.
"But…" Spinning, I look over my shoulder at the back of the dress.
My arms are bare. Delicate French lace encases my neck and collarbone, creating cap sleeves before the ivory silk starts draping. The front is a conservative V-neck, but the back is completely open, framing the tattoo on my spine. The material dips low, exposing my skin down to the top of my ass, and snugly shapes to my hips, with lace overlay, before flaring to the floor.
I both love and hate this dress.
Love that it's soft and delicate, but hate how girlie I'm being about this damn thing.
"But what?" Laney steps up next to me on the raised platform.
Our eyes meet in the mirror.
"What if he hates it?" I ask in a whisper, embarrassed for feeling so insecure.
I mean, this is Christopher we're talking about. The man worships me to a level of obsession. Still, I don't want to disappoint him.
"Seriously?" Kat asks, rolling her eyes. "Jesus, Mia, you could wear a plastic bag."
"Or a paper one, since plastic is not good for the environment," Laney mumbles.
"I'm repurposing," Kat snaps, narrowing her eyes playfully at Laney before looking back up at me. "My point is, the only fucking thing Chris is worried about being on your body is him, and the only thing he wants on you, besides that, is his last name."
Serena snorts, drawing my attention back to the couch where little Zoey is sitting in her lap, snoozing.
"She has a point," she says with a shrug.
"I didn't even think about changing my last name." My focus blurs for a brief moment and dizziness swirls.
"Whoa there," Laney exclaims, grabbing my arm.
"Are you okay?" Serena asks, eyeing me suspiciously.
I nod and breathe deeply. "Yeah."
"Did you eat anything besides red fish today?" Laney asks, a bit of annoyance in her tone.
"Yes," I respond defensively. "I ate a bagel."
"So, a bagel and red fish." Laney levels a look at me. "I'm sure that's soaking up the three mimosas real well."
"You girls should wear…" Linda's word die away and she clasps her hand over her heart. "Oh my lord, Mia, you look beautiful."
"I feel ridiculous." I cross my arms over my chest.
"Well, you don't look ridiculous." Linda approaches me, tears in her eyes.
She reaches out and ghosts her hand over the skirt of the dress.
"Okay, then I feel like an imposter," I say, amending my previous statement.
"Why?" Linda asks, her watery eyes meeting mine.
"Because, I'm Mia Ryder—jeans, t-shirts, and Converse. I'm not…" I wave a hand over my body, "I'm not this girl."
"No, you're this woman." Linda straightens to her full height, her face turning serious. "You are Amelia Marie Ryder. Rock's queen, a mother, and the woman Christopher Mason sees straight to the heart of. So, no, Mia, you aren't a girl. You are a woman, and you are beautiful," Linda finishes with a small nod.
I inhale sharply and launch myself off the raised platform. Linda reflexively opens her arms, catching and embracing me.
Tightening my arms around her, I inhale the soothing cocoa butter scent of her dark skin. The familiar feel of Serena's arms comes around us.
"Thank you," I choke out against her neck.
"Holy shit!" Laney exclaims on a sniff. "Kat, are you crying?"
Releasing Linda, Serena and I take a step back and wipe at our damp cheeks before turning toward Kat.
"No," she lies, running the back of her hand against her face. "It's just allergies or something."
"I had no idea the antichrist could shed real tears," Laney teases.
Kat turns a mischievous grin on Laney.
"Don't, Kat." Laney puts her arms out. "We're in a public—”
Laney's scream fills the room as Kat dives toward her, taking them both to the floor. Two of the dress shop women who'd been helping us come out with Kara, my wedding planner. Eyes wide and mouths open, they watch Kat lick Laney's face.
"Oh my God," Laney cries. "Kat, you're thirty not thirteen!"
Looking away from the Laney-Kat chaos, I wave at Kara. Her eyes, filled with disbelief and shock, find mine.
"This is the dress," I say, giving a nod and thumbs up.
Chapter Two
Christopher
Flattening my palms against her inner thighs, I drag my tongue slowly up her slit. What started as a simple discussion regarding her failure to share plans for a bachelorette party escalated to much better and sweeter things.
"Oh, fuck, Christopher," Mia calls out as she climaxes. "That goddamn tongue ring."
That's orgasm number two. Teasing her clit with the metal ball, I press my shoulders into her legs further and keep her open. Her body jerks with every swipe of my tongue and convulses when I suck on her bundle of nerves.
"Chris, I can't take anymore," she groans. Hips wiggling, her hands grab my head, trying to still me.
"I've got three more to go," I say against her swollen lips.
"No," she gasps. "It's too much."
"This is the punishment for holding out for so long." I cluck my tongue and return to feasting.
Fuck how I've missed the way she tastes, the sounds she makes, and the way her toes curl into my skin when I eat her out.
"I need you to fuck me, Christopher," she says, her voice a breathy demand.
My body stills. As much as I want to keep my head between her legs, my dick has been neglected for two long months.
"Don't you want to fuck me, Chris?" The taunt in her question is almost enough to make me play a little harder to get. "I really need your cock inside me, baby."
And…I'm done.
Releasing her thighs, I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand and get to work on removing my jeans.
Having only had enough time to persuade and seduce Mia out of her clothes, I hadn't been able to take off more than my shirt. I couldn’t risk her backing out while I removed my damn pants.
I shove the denim and cotton boxer briefs over my hips, my eyes drawn to Mia's hands.
Her thin fingers slip up over her stomach and cup her breasts.
I lick my lips and push my pants to my knees.
"Touch your nipples, angel," I instruct, my eyes riveted as she does what she's told.
Her thumb and forefinger pinch and roll the dark pink tips. Her neck arches back and she gasps.
I kick the material off my legs and climb between her legs.
Placing one hand on her bent knee, I flatten the other on her stomach, my thumb briefly tracing the scar on her abdomen. Pain stabs at my heart, thinking about almost losing Mia during Maggie's birth, but she rubs her wet pussy against my cock, bringing me back from the darkness I gravitate toward.
"Please, Chris," she begs, causing my dick to jump.
"Offer your tits to me, baby," I order, leaning over her body.
Mia cups her breasts, pushing them together and up. I latch my mouth onto the left n
ipple, roll my tongue, and suck. She cries out when I release and move to the right.
Her hips grind up and against me. Pulling my hips back, she whines.
Keeping my weight on one forearm, I use my other hand to position and slide just the tip inside.
"Chris," she croons, "please."
"Please what, angel?" I ask, the question strained to my own ears.
My tip throbs, demanding full entrance.
"Fuck me!" she cries, wrapping her legs around my hips and pulling me into her.
"Fuck, Mia," I growl, planting my forehead between her breasts.
Taking a deep breath, I try to control myself from blowing my load like a fucking teenage boy.
Her hips wiggle and jerk, making me lose any fight to stay still. I pull back and slide in deep, feeling every twitch and tightening of her walls.
"Faster," she demands.
Obeying the woman I love, I increase the tempo.
A sheen of sweat forms on her skin. Moisture drips down my back, pooling above my ass. Our skin slaps against each other, filling the room with the sounds of us in our most raw and primal moment, when we are one.
"Harder, Chris." Mia's arms come around my shoulders. Her short nails rake down my back as the heels of her feet dig into my ass.
Sliding my hand through the combined sweat on her body, I slip my damp fingers over her clit and rub. Her body tenses, a guttural moan escapes her mouth, and I fuck her until her pussy locks my dick in the best vice grip God ever created. It's the last thing my neglected cock can take, and I explode in my own orgasmic release.
Dropping my head to her shoulder, I lick her skin. "I cannot wait to make you my wife."
"That was an unfair maneuver," Mia states, still a little breathless, referring back to my pressing her against the bedroom wall and running my tongue piercing over her bottom lip.