Rockers After Dark: 6 Book Bundle of Sexy Musicians

by Chase, Deanna

  As if he’s heard my silent pleas, he gently cups my breasts, running his thumbs over my overly sensitive nipples. My breasts are instantly heavy with lust and craving. I tug his shirt over his head and slide my hands down, trailing them along the indent of his V-line between his waist and hips.

  He shivers slightly. Oh, how I want to make him do that over and over again. Tattoos cover both arms and his right shoulder. I want to stop and study each one, but he doesn’t give me the chance. He gently pinches my right nipple, and now I’m the one shivering. He kneads the tip until I gasp and then dips his head down, catching the left one between his teeth.

  “Oh God.” I moan, digging my fingers into his hips. Sparks of pleasure and pain ripple through me as he nibbles and scrapes his teeth over my taut peaks.

  Before I know what I’m doing, my fingers are fumbling with the fly of his jeans.

  One of his hands covers mine, stopping me. He lifts his mouth from my throbbing breast. “Not yet, babe. Soon, but not yet.”

  I twist my hand free from his and flatten it against his jeans, running my fingers over the length of his hardness. “I want to feel you. All of you.”

  His eyes narrow with barely controlled desire. It’s the exact reaction I was hoping for.

  “Lucy,” he forces out through ragged breaths. “If you keep doing that, touching me that way, this is going to be over before we even start.”

  Before we start? What have we been doing for the last ten minutes?

  “Let me worship this sexy body of yours for a while first.” He moves my hand back to his hip as he turns us and presses me up against the wall once more. He gives me that devilish smile, then clamps his mouth back over my breast, and I let out a startled gasp of pure pleasure.

  “Okay.” My voice is almost a whisper as he sucks hard on my nipple and teases the other with his clever fingers.

  I give myself over to him and wind my fingers through his thick, bronze hair, holding him to me, afraid that when he stops, I’ll never be the same again. The things he’s doing to me, the way my body burns for his touch, it’s all new. I’d been with Cadan so many times, but it had been different. More of an emotional release after a concert that left us both wound tight. Good, sure. But not hot, needful, or full of this crazy desire to lose myself in someone.

  And right now, I’m lost. Utterly and completely.

  Nothing matters but the passion crashing over us. Seth is breathing hard when he finally releases my breast. So am I. His hot tongue marks a path back to my lips.

  “I want you just like this.” He places his hands on my ass once more and lifts me so my legs are wrapped around him, the same way we’d been in the kitchen. When he’d told me he’d been dreaming of me wrapped around him since I first walked away from him at the bar.

  Excitement makes my blood pump faster. I want him to take me just like this. Against the wall in an uncontrollable frenzy. I flatten myself to him, pressing my bare breasts into his chest, and rake my nails lightly along his back. “I’m ready,” I say, pulling back slightly to hold his gaze. “Right here, right now.”

  His emerald eyes glow with green fire. He redoubles his efforts, kissing me thoroughly, and reaches for the zipper of my skirt. In one short motion it’s free, and Seth is lifting me off him. My knees wobble slightly as he sets me carefully on my feet. My halter dress falls to the floor, leaving me in my black lace panties and thigh-high boots. I’m almost shaking I want him so badly.

  But he’s still got his jeans on. I reach for him again, but he sidesteps me and then kneels before me, his eyes level with my sex. “I want to see what’s under these,” he says, sliding his fingers into the waistband of my lace. Raising his gaze to mine, he slowly works them over my hips and down my thighs until they pool at my feet with the discarded dress. Carefully he lifts each foot, freeing me from my garments.

  “Hey,” I say softly, surprised I’m not more self-conscious. “You’re wearing too many clothes.”

  He responds by running his hands the length of my boots to my bare thighs. The heat and need intensifies to a pulsing throb as he nears my center. I shift, spreading my feet farther apart to give him access, but his hands don’t go any higher. Instead, he feathers kisses down my thigh, stopping at the top of my boot. With steady fingers, a sharp contrast to my own trembling ones, he lowers the zipper of my boot and continues his exploration of kisses down my inner leg and then back up again. He watches my eyes as he rezips the boot.

  I raise one eyebrow in question.

  “You’re keeping these on,” he says huskily and repeats the process on the other side.

  My right hand is buried in his hair, the other pressed against the smooth wall. I stare out the picture window at the Pacific pounding relentlessly against the cliffs and let out a loud moan of ecstasy as his tongue finally enters me, pleasuring my sex at my most sensitive spot. His hands inch closer, spread wide over my thighs, his rough calluses teasing my tender flesh.

  He laps and nips just as he had when he’d kissed my mouth, but this time I’m a live bolt of electricity, sparking all over, pushed to the edge by the bundle of nerves he’s commanding. The pressure builds, driving me higher into an unfamiliar realm of sweet torture. My body begs for more, pressing into his mouth, taking everything he has to give.

  He pulls back and a whimper escapes my lips as I tremble against the wall, waiting for him to finish what he started. “Seth,” I breathe.

  “Shatter for me,” he whispers, and then his mouth is on me again, his tongue working its magic. I’m wound as tight as I can possibly be, just on the edge, when his fingers plunge into me. I cry out as a long shudder starts from my center and moves through me in waves, crashing hard and thunderous.

  When I come back to myself, spent and languid with my release, Seth has his arms wrapped around my middle, his head tucked against my belly, holding on. Only his embrace keeps me standing on my shaky legs. I rest my hands lightly on his shoulders and close my eyes.

  “That was…” I can’t even come up with a word to describe the magnitude of what he’d made me feel.

  “Mind-blowing,” he supplies and gets to his feet.

  “That will work.” I smile at him weakly.

  He brushes a damp lock of hair from my eyes and bends to kiss me. The salty taste of his mouth brings the sensations of my orgasm flooding back, and the familiar throb starts up again.

  The hungry nature of his kiss enraptures me, fueling a fresh spark of desire. He places both hands on the wall on either side of my head and goes to work once again on my neck, keeping his body slightly away from mine so only his lips are touching me.

  But my hands are eager. He’s learned every inch of my body. It’s my turn. I start by tracing my lips over his shoulder and run one finger down the crevice between his pecs. He stills mid-nibble, and I’m gratified to hear the slight catch of his breath. His muscles clench as he tries to hold himself back. He’s beyond need, almost beyond control. I’m certain of it. With one touch, one word, I could have him inside me. Where I know he wants to be.

  The knowledge that I hold this power gives me courage, and instead of opening to him, I grab his hips and twist, turning us both so he’s now the one leaning against the wall.

  His eyes glitter with anticipation. I take a small step back and watch his gaze track my hands as they move to the top of his jeans once more. He keeps his arms loose at his sides and doesn’t stop me. Slowly, I undo the button and slip the zipper down, revealing black boxer briefs. His gaze doesn’t waver from my touch as his muscles tighten with smoldering intensity. With his shirt long discarded and his jeans open, I can’t help but run my hands over his chest, exploring the ridges of his toned muscles. He must work out, but not obsessively so. Just enough to keep himself in decent shape. I love it. He’s so different from what I’ve known in the past. So alive. So incredibly male.

  “Lucy?” he says.<
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  I glance up, my hands poised to strip him of the rest of his clothes. “Yes?”

  “In about three seconds, I’m going to be inside you.”

  I bite down hard on my lip, making him groan.

  “Jesus. Stop that,” he says.

  I place one hand in the middle of his chest and push him back against the wall. “You’ll give me at least three minutes. There are few things I’d like to see first.” Two seconds later, I have him stripped of his jeans and briefs. He’s so hard his erection is slightly curved. I take care to not touch him there, knowing that would be his undoing. But I do kneel before him, just as he had done with me, and run my hands over his muscular thighs. He’s solid and hot, all male.

  I can’t help myself. I have to taste him. Have to feel him on the edge just as I had been. Wrapping my hand around the base of him, I lean in, running my tongue along his length. He shudders and his hand curls in my hair, tightening his hold, though not enough to hurt me. I smile and open my mouth, slipping my lips over him, taking him as deep as I can, pleased I don’t gag when his tip hits the back of my throat.

  “Oh fuck,” Seth moans. “You have no idea what you’re doing to me right now.”

  I have a clue, but I don’t answer. Instead, I start a slow rhythm, backing off until my lips are wrapped around his tip and then taking him deep, over and over and over again, until his body is rigid from holding himself back.

  “Lucy,” he gasps. “I want you. I want you pressed up against this wall with me buried inside you when I come.”

  His blunt words stir the smoldering fire between my legs again, and with one last lingering kiss, I release him. Before I can process what he’s doing, he grabs his wallet from his discarded jeans and hands me a foil wrapper.

  With trembling fingers, I roll the condom onto him and then brace myself for what he’s been promising me all night.

  Chapter Eight

  Seth

  Lucy’s hands are on me, and I’m not sure I’m going to last long enough for her to get the condom rolled on. I should’ve taken care of it myself. But I couldn’t resist the allure of her touch. Jesus, what her mouth could do. With any of the other girls I’d been with in the recent past, I would’ve just come, let her finish me off, and called it a night. But with Lucy, hell. With her, I want more. I want to own her in a way only a man that’s been inside her can. If only for one night.

  Her hands release me, and we stand together, frozen in the moment, savoring. At least I am. I doubt she’ll give herself to me like this again. Not with her mate circling. But for tonight, she’s mine. I pull her close and lean down, kissing her already-familiar mouth. When her tongue meets mine with that incredible intensity, I lift her up and brace her against the wall. Her booted legs wrap around me just as I’d imagined they would. And then I press into her heat, her tight flesh enveloping me. It’s all I can do to hold myself back, to let her adjust to my intrusion when all I want to do is bury myself deeply inside her. To claim every inch of her.

  She lets out a cry, and I still instantly, afraid I’m hurting her. But she begins to move against me, taking me deeper, moaning with each stroke. I’m overtaken with lust and passion, and finally, after hours of fantasizing about this moment, I take her as I will, thrusting into her, hard and fast, raising her need with each meeting of our flesh.

  Her cries grow louder, and I’m all but out of my mind, consumed with something more than raw need. Something more than a night of physical pleasure. I don’t know what it is, but I want it. I want her. The realization makes me slow our frantic pace. As I carefully pull out of her, she whimpers and clutches my shoulders in protest.

  At the last moment, I slam into her again, filling her completely. We repeat the rhythm together, torturing ourselves, until, on the fourth thrust, she gasps and her muscles tighten around me. The spasms rip through her, and the rapture on her face as she throws her head back nearly makes me come undone. But I hold off, letting her recover for just a moment. Then I move again, making her all but whimper with each frenzied stroke until every muscle goes taut and I’m groaning into her ear as I shudder against her.

  We’re both breathing hard, sweat glistening on our bodies. She reaches up and places her palm flat on my cheek. Her blue eyes are heavy with satiation. “Seth?”

  “Hmm,” I murmur and clasp her thumb between my teeth.

  “That was incredible.”

  I nod, not trusting myself to speak. If I say anything, she’s going to see right through me. This is a hell of a lot more than a night of hot sex.

  “Can you let me down now?”

  “Sure,” I say, and reluctantly help her to her feet. After disposing of the condom, I return to where she’s sitting on the floor. She looks so small and fragile, almost naked except for those boots. I put a hand out, offering to help her up.

  She takes it, and when she wobbles on her feet, I pick her up and carry her to the bathroom. The downstairs bathroom is a small one, but it has a shower just big enough for the both of us. I set her down on the vanity, and without speaking, I unzip her boots for the second time, only now I slip them off her feet. Her eyes are big and round as she watches me.

  I smile up at her. “Don’t want to ruin these.”

  She chuckles. “No. We don’t.”

  Reaching over, I turn the taps on. Once the bathroom starts to fill with steam, I tug Lucy into the shower, and there, I explore her body again until we both cry out in ecstasy, only this time when we’re finished, she smells of citrus-scented body gel.

  ***

  Hoooonk, hoooonk, honk penetrates my consciousness, and I bolt out of bed. “Holy fuck.” I grab my head with both hands, trying to block out the incessant noise. “Keep your pants on.”

  I glance down, noting my buck-naked state, and grab a discarded towel lying rumpled on the floor. That’s when I notice the bed is empty.

  Lucy.

  Shit. Where is she? The honking finally stops, and I slide to the window just in time to see legs clad in thigh-high boots walking swiftly to the car. Jesus. She’s running away just as she had last night when she wanted to get as far away from Kinx as possible. Had the night been that bad?

  Dude. Get a hold of yourself. This is the perfect scenario. No awkward morning-after bullshit.

  Lucy pauses and glances up at the window. Spotting me, her eyes go wide, then she bites her bottom lip. Desire stirs in my gut, but I do my best to keep my face blank. She’s running out on me. No girl has ever tried to leave before I woke up before. Not that I ever bring them home. That’s too personal. I wouldn’t have last night if we’d had any other option. She frowns, and I don’t know why, but I want to chase after her and—

  Seriously, dude. Stop it.

  Her hand comes up and she gives me a tiny wave. A second later, she’s tucked in the car. I stare at the black SUV, focusing on the red taillights as they disappear into the morning fog.

  Marty. Bastard. For some reason I hate him more than usual this morning. I slam my fist into the wall, splitting my knuckle in the process. Fuck. That guy is the biggest douche on the planet, and the fact Lucy left with him has me aching to punch the wall again.

  Instead, I turn and head for the shower. Not the one Lucy and I shared last night, but the master bath in the room at the end of the hall. I never go in there. Do my best to avoid it at all costs. Even though I’d painted the room white, blocking out the bold sun yellow and tangerine that had once graced the walls, E was still everywhere. The wrought-iron bed she’d picked out, the unmatched nightstands she’d hand painted with wildflowers, the goddamned red velvet pillow I hadn’t been able to toss.

  I ignore it all, shutting down the part of me that is hers—that will always be hers—and slip into the bathroom. It’s easier in here. Whiteness gleams from every surface. It had been our compromise. Whatever colors she’d wanted in the bedroom were fine as long as I
had a reprieve of white in the bathroom. Before it had felt clean, sleek. Now it’s impersonal. It doesn’t stop the memories from trying to slip back in, however.

  E using those 1950s hot curlers she’d found at a garage sale. Her Corvette-red lipstick. The two drawers of cosmetics I’d never once seen her use but she insisted on keeping anyway. The sleepy-eyed look she’d give me after we’d been up all night working.

  Pain lances through me. It’s her contented expression after the all-nighters we’d spent in the studio that I miss the most. The door slams shut on the memory, and I try to think of Lucy, but my pulse quickens and sweat prickles the back of my neck.

  The terrible memories of that night come flooding back, and my mind turns hazy as gut-wrenching bursts of metal grinding against metal echoes in my mind. A scream is cut off at impact, and then there’s darkness, punctuated by flashes of light. And all I can focus on is the blood. It’s everywhere. I can’t stop it.

  I let out a scream of desperate rage, throw on some clothes, and bolt for the door. Once outside, I take deep breaths of the salted air. In. Out. In. Out. With no memory of heading toward the ocean, I’m at the cliff, crouched down, my elbows resting on my knees. My eyes are open, but I don’t see the water crashing over the rocks or the hazy line of the horizon. I see E, her infectious smile, her impossibly curly golden hair, and paint. Lots of paint.

  Slowly, I stand, my legs stiff from the cold wind. Then I turn and walk the two miles to my parents’ house.

  ***

  I’m standing on the front stoop, bracing myself for the inevitable questions, when the door pops open.

  “Seth!” Mom says too brightly and pulls me inside.

  “Mom.” Suspicion rings in my tone, but she just smiles up at me, entirely too happy. After staying out all night without calling, I expect at least an hour-long lecture on common courtesy. I’m a grown man with my own house, but ever since I lost E, I’ve been crashing at my parents’ to escape the memories. Since the accident, Mom worries a lot more than she used to. The phone call was her only request. And I’d forgotten. Again.