by Clara Leigh
“Since when was getting blown such a hardship?” I enquire.
“I want you, not him.”
He says all the right words.
“Right, I’m going for it folks, that okay with you?” The tip of Lorne’s tongue makes another appearance, this time sweeping nonchalantly over the crown of Dare’s cock, causing him to make a weird eep sound, and then shudder like someone just trailed their tongue along the length of his spine.
“You still good with this?” Lorne checks.
I stroke his chin with my thumb. “Warm him up for me.”
I think he mumbles something that might be, “You cheeky cunt.” But I’m sure he’s not that impolite. All right, he’s totally that impolite. He’s also no stranger to the task he’s performing, that’s for certain, and now that it’s happening, Dare’s not exactly struggling with it either.
I watch them, unable to blink. My cheeks prickle from the heat that suddenly fills them. I don’t quite know where to look.
I only look at one thing. The bobbing up and down of Lorne’s head.
Bastard gives a good head. He makes me wish I had a cock for him to suck. I’ve never really felt that way before, and I can’t pretend this is the first time I’ve seen a man go down on another man. Animated gifs – they while away the long hours while Dare’s abroad. But this is different. This time, I have a ringside seat.
Dare’s head lolls against the sofa back. His mouth falls open. “Need you… Need you closer.” He reaches for me and reels me in.
We can’t kiss while Lorne is doing that?
Actually, apparently we can.
We do, sharing deep, wet, tongue-tangling kisses that amplify the arousal that was already burning inside me, until it’s not enough to have only our mouths touching. I push my hands into his hair. I need to touch this man. I need to stroke him in intimate places. The dirty girl inside of me wants to run a hand down his chest and over the ridges of his abs. She wants to cup the back of Lorne’s head as he sucks. She totally gets off over the fact her fingers, which are ringed around the base of her lover’s cock, are wet with a mix of saliva and pre-come.
Not her, I correct myself. Me. Flicka isn’t some other being. It’s me who wants all that, and at the same time wants to snatch Dare away from him so that I can give him a messy, frantic hand job that ends with him coming all over his friend’s face.
Or not.
I’d actually rather he came over my face… or my breasts… or deep inside me.
Turns out that what I really want is my man, all to myself, and I’d like the exclusivity part of that to begin right now. I tap Lorne’s shoulder, and he bobs right up from what he was doing as if he’d already pre-empted my reaction. His lips are shiny, and he kisses me on the cheek. “He’s all yours sweetheart. Take him. Look after him.”
“I feel as if I’m tearing you apart.”
“You’re not. This is never what we were about.” He fist bumps Dare then rises to his feet. “I’ll leave you two lovebirds alone for five.”
“Twenty,” Dare calls after him. “At least.”
Lorne keeps on walking, but he raises a hand and wiggles five fingers.
“I think he’s implying you have no stamina.”
Dare wraps his arms around me from behind. “That’s always a distinct possibility when you’re around.” His fingers link beneath my breasts, while his lips tease the ridge of my collarbone. “You know, we could sneak away. Head out the back, call a cab, go home, fall into bed.”
“Spend a whole night cuddled up together and lazy the whole of tomorrow away.”
“Exactly,” he agrees, nodding. “Apart from the bit where we have to have dinner with my parents and watch Arrietty’s first ballet performance, of course. But other than that, totally, we can while away the hours being naked and snuggly.”
“What’s this dinner for, anyway?” I turn my head, and reach for him, in order to draw him into another kiss.
“Oh, just some proposal or other. No major reason. It’s not a celebration or anything. Although, if you could bring yourself to wear this, we might turn it into one.”
He holds the ring up between us, at eye-level. It’s gold with a spray of cherry blossom worked around the band and set with a single pink stone.
I gape at him, then clap my hand over my mouth.
“Still too soon?” he asks.
I totally well up as I shake my head.
Dare grins at me. He gets off the sofa and down on one knee. “I know you’ve only just officially emancipated yourself, but I wondered, now that there are no impediments, if you’d consider marrying me?”
I understand now why what just happened with Lorne had to be tonight. He’d been putting it off. I thought that was due to some lingering affection, but I got the whole thing muddled. He didn’t want Lorne at all. He never did.
Dumbly, I keep on nodding.
“I want to make you my wife. Make you the mother to my daughter and two or three others we might like to create. Understanding, of course, that your career comes first. I can be the one who stays home, whatever it takes to let me hold onto you forever.”
Happy tears slide over my cheeks. “Yes to you. Yes to everything.” I hold out my hand and he slides the ring onto my finger. “And, absolutely yes to forever.”
-the end (for now)-
Join my VIP newsletter at http://claraleigh.com/newsletter to hear about my next Forbidden Bad Boys release Smoke Bomb.
Also, if you haven’t yet checked out Nate & Loveday’s story Crazy Love you’re missing out and need to rectify that. Dirty sex talk, tit fucking and two rockers colliding head on. It’s a treat well worth savouring.
www.claraleigh.com
-author’s notes-
Lorne will get his own book – promise. It’s just not the next book, and possibly not the one after that, but it will happen. He’s adamant about it, but it’s also it’s his curse that he’s constantly overlooked. Next up, we’re going to be checking in with Dylan Drake, one of the Sunsetters, who is currently remarkable for his regrettable absence from the story so far. Nevertheless, I feel his grand entrance is worthy of some serious anticipation. You heard it here first. He’s worth waiting for! SMOKE BOMB will be out in February 2017.
A couple of acknowledgements next:
To the rockin’ ladies in my VIP lounge, you’re awesome. I’m so thrilled you’ve chosen to ride along with me on this journey.
To my daughter – yes, I’m deeply jealous that you plotted your book on my post-it notes in five minutes, and no, I don’t want to write it for you. However, if you’d like to keep accosting adults and telling them all about my books (not that you know anything about them as you’re too young to read them) that’s okay.
And, to my biggest cheerleader (you know who you are) – love you honey!
Clara Leigh xx
-also by clara leigh-
Crazy Love
and contemporary rock star romance, writing as
—Madelynne Ellis—
BLACK HALO
A series of interlocking contemporary erotic romance books following the members of gothic rock band Black Halo. Heavy on the angst, and finger-scorchingly sexy, these bad boy rockers play hard, fall hard, and are more than ready to keep you up all night.
Hope you enjoy reading their particular brand of romance!
—ALL NIGHT LONG—
One night of rampant passion with a rock star, that’s all it’s supposed to be. Ginny Walters isn’t looking for love, only some sexy fun with an amazingly hot guy; that is, until she hooks up with Black Halo’s lead guitarist, Ash Gore, on the night his band splits up and discovers a side to the womanizing bad boy she never imagined. Can she convince him that the bond between them is worth exploring?
—an excerpt from ALL NIGHT LONG—
Pissed didn’t come close to describing Ash Gore’s mood. Bad enough that the gig was off, courtesy of Xane, their vocalist, throwing a major snit, without the additional annoyance
of him walking into the night with a gorgeous girl on his arm. Time was they’d have enjoyed her company together, back before things around here started getting overcomplicated, and considerably less fun.
Not for the first time in recent months, Ash’s thoughts strayed back to simpler times, when being in a band consisted of having a lark with your friends, jamming for hours and wowing the girlies. Ash had always been in with the fans, going out of his way to please them and keep them loyal, even in the days when there were only two or three begging for an autograph post-show.
It was at least partly his efforts that had grown their fanbase into something astronomical. The other band members didn’t give him nearly enough credit for that, or acknowledge exactly how much keeping the ladies sweet lined their own pockets. Everyone knew girls liked to shop, and Ash made sure all their merchandise came in ladies’ versions. Oversized T-shirts were all very nice on hulking blokes, but your average rock chick looked way hotter in a skinny-fit vest.
Not that they’d be selling a whole lot of anything any more unless they sorted out the current shit storm. Ash, the eternal optimist, refused to believe Black Halo was done. Xane would calm down – eventually – and realise he couldn’t live without them. Then they’d get on with making music and touring.
‘Stupid bugger,’ he muttered to himself. He’d thought it pretty dumb of Xane to date a fellow band member given what was at stake. Well, the inevitable split had occurred, hence the current nonsense. He, unlike everyone else, wasn’t the least surprised that Elspeth had run off with Xane’s best friend. She was a prize bitch, and he could say that on good authority as a fellow band member. He wasn’t going to let her topple them though. Hey, if the way forward meant initiating a line-up change, then he’d start interviewing tomorrow morning. And he was only delaying it that long because Xane had bollixed off, and there’d be no reasoning with him until he’d calmed down.
That left Ash with an empty schedule and a whole night to kill. Not his favourite state to be in, since he detested his own company. The only thing that happened when he was alone was that he ended up going over shit that was long past its sell-by date and couldn’t be altered, which in turn made him goddamned miserable.
For once, however, he didn’t feel like searching out some company from among the Black Halo fanbase. After all, he wasn’t suicidal, and, judging by the baying that accompanied their impromptu stage exodus, he’d get torn to pieces if he so much as showed his face.
Next time he saw Xane he was going to thump him just for putting him through this. Inconsiderate bastard.
Having reached the dressing room, Ash kicked the door in lieu of using the handle. It achieved the desired effect, slamming the wood back on its hinges and announcing his presence in a way that couldn’t be ignored. Not that there was anyone around. Going by the silence within, the rest of the band hadn’t made it as far as the dressing room yet. They were probably still in the green room trying to figure out what the hell happened, why it happened and if anyone could do anything about it.
Too late, he wanted to yell at them. Mr Geist has already left the building. The band is about to implode. Warning … warning … five minutes to detonation. ‘BOOM!’ He voiced the last part, causing a scurry of motion somewhere in front of him.
Apparently someone had made it to the dressing room, and his impersonation of a nuclear detonation had given them a fucking heart attack. He detected the ratty gasp and watched the figure spring off the couch.
‘Hi,’ he said, flashing the pretty dark-haired girl his best panty-melting smile. One he freely admitted was copied straight off Xane.
Hey, whatever worked to get him laid. That was his motto.
‘Um …’ The girl stared right at him, her lips slightly parted. He swore he heard her swallow. ‘Yeah … Hi. Sorry, I’m …’ She flicked her microscopic skirt back into place and straightened to her full height, which was still only around his shoulder level. Ash’s attention remained fixed on her stocking-covered legs.
No lies, stockings did things to him that he didn’t try to interpret. To say his heart rate kicked up a gear didn’t begin to cover it. That, and these weren’t just stockings, they were fishnets. Fishnets drove him demented. He liked them even more than the seamed variety women wore with business suits.
Suddenly, his evening seemed to be looking up. ‘Yeah … uh … who are you?’
She swept her gaze across him from boots to waist, then back to his face again, before dishing out a dazzling smile. ‘Ginny.’ She extended her hand.
Polite and concise. He liked it. Ash accepted her hand, out of surprise as much as anything. Normally he skipped introductions unless it was some industry bigwig, as they inevitably seemed to lead to a) a boring life account, b) a whole lot of shite about being his biggest fan, or c) both.
Total bollocks, since his mum was unquestionably his biggest fan. She might not attend gigs but she pampered him like nobody’s business on the rare occasions he made it home.
‘How come you’re in here?’ He had to admit he was intrigued. Normally the crew managed to keep the groupies away from the dressing room. Plus, they ensured that anyone hot and available had on a pink-trimmed backstage pass. This girl didn’t have a pass, or if she did it was damn well hidden. ‘Were you looking for me?’
No, he wasn’t being big-headed, just honest about the way the world worked. Girls only came backstage for one thing.
Xane, crowed the voice in his head. Women always wanted Xane. He scared the hell out of them, but they still creamed their panties if he so much as sneered in their direction.
Ash shut the voice off.
The girl peered up at him, as if she wasn’t entirely sure. ‘Um …’
Ash clocked her gaze shifting from his face to the open doorway.
‘It depends …’
Told you, dumbass, his subconscious cackled. She’s after Mr Geist.
Fuck, it pissed him off that he didn’t come top of the Black Halo popularity chart, despite being the most obliging member of the band. Looking hot wasn’t everything. You had to know how to tickle their fancy too, and it helped if you weren’t a total screw-up. Strange how the latter part never seemed to apply to Xane, who was the most messed-up fucker Ash knew.
‘Depends on what?’
She flicked him another glance, this one rather more assessing than the last, which heated him up around the collar and made him wish his jeans weren’t so damn spray-on tight.
This girl was just his type. Naturally pretty, with eyes like puddles of liquid gold, over which two carefully defined eyebrows formed slightly quizzical arches. And shaped perfectly too, wide across the hips and skinny around the middle, with those stocking-covered legs to top it all off.
He swore, if she was here for Spook, he was totally going to lie about the guy’s sexual preferences, and thank you, God, that Mr Screw-Up Geist was already out of the picture.
Ginny tilted her chin. A playful smile tweaked the corners of her mouth. ‘On whether you’re free right now?’ she said without blushing.
‘I don’t charge.’ Startled, she laughed, covering her beautifully kissable lips with one hand.
Ash watched appreciatively as her mirth reached the centres of her whisky-gold eyes. Yes, he was naughty, but sometimes he just couldn’t resist.
Damn! Was it wrong that he wanted to pin her against a wall and prove that he was everything she was looking for with a bone-melting kiss, prior to slipping her his boner?
Yes, Ash, it totally is. After all, it was just possible that she’d turn out to be the tea lady, making sure they were all set with post-show nibbles. He’d done that once, banged some girl over a desk and then found out that she was the secretary to the chief secretary, and had only stepped into the room to see if the snack selection needed replenishing. Well, he’d had the munchies, just not for bourbons and custard creams.
‘And what is it exactly that you don’t charge for, Mr Gore?’
Ash coaxed her fingers away
from her pretty mouth; the anticipation of kissing her now a growing urge. ‘I reckon you can guess.’
‘Maybe, but I’d rather you spelled it out for me. I wouldn’t want to think we were talking at cross purposes.’
Good point. No sense in being misunderstood. Not that he thought it very likely given the way her fingertips were dancing over the side of his throat heading towards his collar bone.
‘A nice …’
Immediately, her fingers fisted around the frayed neckline of his shirt, and her golden eyes lit up.
Ash deliberately paused to further gauge her response, before adding, ‘hard’ and ‘fuck’.
Her breathing hitched and a pink stain spread across her cheeks, but she held his gaze, and he liked her for that.
Her lips parted in order to let her tongue sweep across them, leaving behind the sheen of moisture. ‘And how much do you charge for the second fuck?’
Holy Mary, he was done for! He’d never before been propositioned for round two before he’d even hit first base.
Squealed at. Proposed to. But not optioned for a sequel. This girl had balls.
‘I daresay we can reach an accord.’ He leaned into her touch, loving the way it spread warmth through his body, and prompted her to splay her fingers across the front of his T-shirt.
‘Hope so, because I’m looking for someone who can keep me buzzing for the whole night, not just for five minutes.’
Ash tilted his head forward ready to claim her lips. ‘That won’t be a problem.’
KEEP READING ASH’S BOOK!
-about the author-
Clara Leigh is the alter ego of a New York Times & USA Today bestselling author. She loves tattooed bad boys, rock music, comic books, and movie villains. You can catch up with her in the following locations: