by Caisey Quinn
“I missed you, Kylie Lou,” he said quietly. He placed a kiss on her forehead as he set her down just outside of his bus.
“I missed you, too,” she told him. She took his hand, startled that his touch still sent her skin into a tingling frenzy. He did a quick scan of the bus and made sure it was empty. Kylie’s stomach twisted both in nervousness at the thought of running into Gretchen Gibson, who she damn sure did not want to see—not right now anyways—and in anticipation of what she and Trace were about to do to each other. God. She’d missed him so much it was physically painful.
By the time they made it into Trace’s room, she was practically trembling. She hoped he’d close the door, press her up against it, and show her just how much he’d missed her. He didn’t. He closed the door and led her to the bed where they both sat. He reached out and tucked a stray hair behind her ear. She was slightly sweaty from performing out in the heat. She hoped she was about to get a whole lot sweatier.
“How have you been, Kylie Lou?” he asked, barely loud enough for her to hear. But she could hear what he wasn’t saying. His eyes said he was just trying to be polite. That he really wanted to tear her clothes off and make the most of the two hours of alone time he’d secured for them. She was still raw and hurting from the tension she’d been living with for six weeks plus the pain of baring her soul and singing about her daddy. She wanted physical comfort. Wanted him inside of her. There’d be plenty of time for talking later.
“I’ve been…things are…there’s been a lot going on and I do want to talk about it with you, but right now I just want…” How to phrase this particular request? She wasn’t exactly sure.
“What do you want, pretty girl? Say the word and it’s yours.” Trace’s eyes scanned her face for answers. Instead of speaking, she reached down and pulled her tank top over her head. His eyes widened but she wasn’t stopping. She climbed onto his lap. Straddling him, she pulled his hat off and sat it next to them so she could run her fingers through his hair.
“That was my lucky hat,” he mumbled against her lips.
“Oh, I think you’re about to get plenty lucky without it.” She deepened their kiss, pulling at his bottom lip with her teeth. She couldn’t get enough of his tongue. His mouth was minty, as if he’d just brushed his teeth. For a split second she thought she tasted the faint hint of bourbon underneath. Now isn’t the time to grill him. She lashed her tongue in and out of his mouth, pausing to run it over his teeth and lips. She felt his hardness beneath her so she ground her hips down against him.
Trace groaned and pulled her farther onto the bed. She’d never been on top before, but she was pretty damned excited about it.
She stood long enough to rid herself of her jeans. She was just about to climb back onto her boyfriend when he sat up abruptly.
“What are you doing?” she pouted.
“What are you doing?” He looked up at her, grinning as he grabbed her hips to pull her closer. “You think this is just going to be a quickie, then so long, see you in Atlanta tomorrow night?”
She smiled, remembering that he’d made sure their tours crossed paths a few times. Tomorrow after both of their shows in Georgia, they were spending the night at his house in Macon. She missed that place almost as much as she missed him.
“What are you grinning about, crazy girl?”
She winked. “Oh I have plans for tomorrow night.”
He arched a brow. “What kind of plans?”
She cocked her head down towards him and whispered when she spoke. “Plans involving you finishing what you started in that shower. Plans involving me and you and that pond you dropped me into. Only, no clothes this time.”
“My, haven’t we been busy plotting.”
“You have no idea.” She couldn’t take the sexy banter anymore so she lowered her head to place her mouth on his. His warm lips caressed hers perfectly. Kissing him was always like getting that exact thing she’d been craving. No disappointment or awkwardness—just pure pleasure. She loved kissing him, loved making love to him, loved writing music with him. Damn. She just flat out loved everything they did together. She was pretty sure this meant she loved him. Every time she thought about telling him, she remembered dancing with him at his birthday party. I don’t do relationships, he’d said. But that was exactly what they were doing. Wasn’t it?
Luckily, Trace was able to distract her from her concerns about unrequited love. She was still standing in her bra and panties. From his sitting position on the bed, he was at the perfect vantage point for placing his mouth on her. Which he did. Her head fell back as he looped a finger through her panties and pulled. Once they were down her legs, she kicked them to the side.
He licked her stomach and trailed his tongue to the top of her closely trimmed strip of hair. He pressed his mouth against her. “Damn, I’ve missed you,” he growled against her tender flesh. Before she could respond, he grabbed her and pinned her down on the mattress. “Better,” he mumbled as his mouth made its way down her throat, past her breasts, and over her stomach. His arms hooked her knees and pulled until she was spread open and exposed.
“Trace,” she said barely loud enough to get his attention.
“Mmhm,” he answered as his mouth continued traveling southbound.
“I want you so bad. It-it hurts.” She throbbed so hard it was a struggle not to put her hand between her legs and press to relieve the pressure.
His head snapped up and his lust-filled gaze met hers. “I’m going to take care of you, baby. I promise.”
She lifted her head over her black lacy bra-covered breasts and watched as he began placing gentle kisses on her. Surely he could feel how hard she was pulsating. It felt like that one spot was controlling her entire body. She squirmed, lifting her hips for more. Trace’s breath tickled her and she whimpered.
“Please, Trace. Please.” She grabbed and tugged the comforter below her as tightly as she could.
“Please what, pretty girl?”
She groaned and lifted her hips once more.
“Say it, Kylie. Tell me what you want.” His eyes were darker than usual. The way they got when he wanted a drink and she’d denied him. Now he was craving her and she wanted him to give in to that craving. Immediately.
“I want you to, t-to…make me come. Please.”
“My pleasure, darlin’.”
Oh hell. That was almost enough to send her into oblivion right there. She tensed as he finally placed one wet stroke of his tongue between her legs. She pulsed and ached for more. He licked her once more and she cried out. One more hard stroke of his tongue and she’d be gone. But he pulled back. “You want me here?” He trailed a finger through her slick folds before pressing it inside of her.
She couldn’t answer so she nodded and her body convulsed beneath him.
He dipped his head but this time instead of a good hard lashing of his tongue, he swirled the tip around her clit. It was so intense she didn’t know if what she felt was pleasure or pain.
“I-I want you. Oh God. Trace. I need you inside of me. Now.”
“First things first, darlin’.” He pressed another finger slowly into her. Her body resisted the additional pressure. But then his tongue swiped her once more and she opened completely. The rush of him pressing so thick and full inside of her sent the room into a tailspin. He went in deep. Then he withdrew before going in more quickly this time. Before she realized what was happening, she was screaming. Actually screaming. His name. And a few obscenities she didn’t make a habit of saying out loud. And the one word she’d probably always say when he wanted something from her. Yes.
She was still calling out in ecstasy when he eased on top of her and began removing his pants. She fumbled to help him. She was more than ready to have him inside of her.
“Trace.” He didn’t stop. Just yanked his shirt off and kicked his jeans onto the floor. Good God a’mighty. She was momentarily paralyzed by desire at the sight of him. Somehow she’d forgotten how muscular and perf
ect his body was. Her tongue danced behind her lips, aching to reach out and lick his smooth skin.
When his hard length sprang free from his boxer briefs, her mouth watered. Actually watered. The juncture between her thighs heated, aching so intensely it felt as if her entire body was clenching.
Lauryn McCray popped into her head at that exact moment. Shit. She spoke in a frantic rush. “Um, Trace. I was thinking maybe we should use something. I haven’t exactly been on a strict routine with my pill and with everything with—”
That stopped him cold. He looked as if she’d snapped him out of a trance, and she almost cried out in fear that she’d ruined the moment.
“It’s not that I don’t trust you. It’s not about that at—”
“Shh, it’s okay, baby. I’ve got something.” He smiled and shook his head as he leaned to the left and opened the top drawer of the nightstand. She watched hungrily as he opened the foil packet and slid the latex over himself. He didn’t sink into her right away like she’d expected. He dipped into her, just the head of him, and then pulled out and swirled her own slickness around her. Sweet mother of orgasms. Whoever said condoms didn’t feel as good was doing it wrong.
She wrapped her legs around him and tried to pull him down onto her. Into her. He grinned and kissed her softly. “Didn’t you want to be on top, pretty girl? I kind of got the impression that you did.”
Even after six weeks apart he could still read her. She gave him a wicked grin and nodded. He grabbed her and rolled so that she was on top. The heady sense of control overtook her. A girl could get used to this.
He raised his arms, placing his hands behind his head and watching her with a dark interest. He cocked a brow as if to say do your worst.
Kylie’s body warmed to a dangerous degree. Challenge accepted. She slid herself up his shaft, moaning at how good he felt against her sensitive flesh. When the tip of his erection met her opening, she used every ounce of self-control she had to lower herself onto him as slowly as humanly possible. Once he was all the way inside, her head fell back.
“Oh God, you’re so deep.” She rocked her hips slowly, not at all anxious to put any distance between him and that spot inside of her he was hitting perfectly. Her body turned to liquid as the soothing balm of pleasure spread through her.
“Lose the bra,” Trace commanded. She did as she was told, fighting with the clasp before slinging it across the room. Once her breasts were bare, Trace began lifting his hips to meet her. His hands reached out and caressed her nipples. Gently at first and then rougher.
He’d had enough of her slow, steady rhythm. She could tell by the way his cock was expanding and jerking inside of her. He sat up, pulling her close so their bare chests pressed against each other. She began riding him faster as he clamped his mouth down on hers. His tongue massaged the inside of her mouth as his fingers kneaded into her backside. Trace’s firm chest brushed against her soft breasts. That combination plus his dick stroking her G-spot had her ready to combust. The moans began slipping out without her permission.
Abruptly, he pulled back, gripping her tightly and forcing her eyes to meet his. “I’ve never wanted anything like I want you. Not a drink, not a drug, not even music. Not a single damned thing, Kylie. Do you understand that?”
She whimpered and nodded because it was the only way she could convey her understanding at the moment. And then everything exploded in a white hot flash. She was vaguely aware of the pinch of pain she felt as he bit down on one of her nipples. He began straining and groaning as he came beneath her. But her own release had her blind and mindless with a pleasure so intense it felt as if she were being torn from her body.
Panting, she collapsed on top of him. She trailed her fingertips around his chiseled chest as it rose and fell until she couldn’t keep her eyes open any longer.
“Thank you,” she mumbled softly. For loving me, she wanted to add but didn’t. “For wanting me more than anything else,” she said instead.
HE’D told her once before. He didn’t make love. And yet…what had just happened between them certainly wasn’t fucking. Something had changed in him when he saw her up on that stage, giving the audience a part of her they didn’t deserve. A part he hadn’t even seen yet. He’d done what he’d done partly because he could see that she needed it. And partly because he’d been overcome with the need to possess her. To stake his claim on her. Because how long would it be before someone as amazing and strong and brave and talented as she was realized she could do better? How much time would it take for her to see that she was about to be a huge success and he wouldn’t be worthy of working on her road crew? Though he would, happily, if she wanted him to.
How long until she realizes you’ve been drinking?
She was the most incredible woman he’d ever known. And she was only nineteen. She would probably be taking over the whole damned world by the time she was twenty-five. He watched as she slept. Her body barely moved as she inhaled and exhaled softly beside him. Watching her, being with her, just being near her, gave him a type of peace he’d never known. He was pretty sure this was what contentment felt like. She made him happy in a way nothing else ever could. It was true happiness, genuine and pure, not the kind you find at the bottom of a bottle. But if he’d learned anything, it was that these types of feelings were fleeting.
She’d said Gretchen was the female version of him and she’d been mostly right. Gretchen was making his life a living hell. Worse than hell. Hell would be a vacation resort in the Caribbean compared to touring with Gretchen. Knowing he’d been the same brand of selfish and toxic when Kylie had joined him on his last tour made him want to kick his own ass. She deserved so much better than that. She deserved someone who could give her forever. A future. Promises that would be kept. All he could give her was today. Today he was sober. Yesterday he hadn’t been. Tomorrow he couldn’t speak for. But for the first time in his entire life, he wanted to make promises. More than that, he wanted to be able to actually keep them.
A thick knot formed in his throat, constricting his airways. She was smiling a little in her sleep. Her face was smooth, not at all like the tense expression she’d had on stage earlier. She could fake the audience out all day long, but she’d never be able to fake it with him. Damn that made him happy, like cat-ate-the-damn-canary happy. He was so proud of her. Proud of her strength, of her talent, and of how beautiful she truly was inside and out.
He lightly stroked the side of her face, grinning as she wrinkled her cute little nose at his touch. His stomach clenched as she shivered and then resumed her content little smile. Was this what falling in love felt like? He wondered if he was falling in love with her right that minute. Hell, maybe he already had and his stupid ass was just now catching up.
He forced his throat to swallow as he brushed a strand of hair from her face. He’d enjoy their time together while he could. Savor it like the bittersweet burn of the last drop of bourbon. Because he knew it’d be hell letting her go. But some day, when she realized that he’d just hold her back, he’d have to. That was very likely going to be the same day he’d lose his already faltering grip on sobriety completely. He was pretty sure that knowing that wouldn’t give him any kind of advantage over it. Just like knowing he wasn’t good enough for Kylie Ryans wouldn’t make it any easier to let her go.
“SHIT!” A loud banging sound startled him awake. Trace rolled his neck and sat up in bed. Kylie was still sleeping soundly next to him. Glancing over at the alarm clock on the night table, he saw it was just after midnight. Oh hell, her bus was probably already on the way to Atlanta by now. Not that it was a big deal. They were headed there as well. He just figured he should’ve asked her if she wanted to ride with him instead of screwing her into a coma and kidnapping her. Mia and that other chick touring with her were probably good and pissed.
He heard more swearing from Gretchen as she stumbled to her room. The room that used to be Kylie’s. Damn, he missed those days. Well, kind of. His dick didn’t mis
s the long nights of knowing she was just a few feet away. Especially once she’d started making it painfully clear that she wanted him as badly as he wanted her. If that was even possible.
“Kylie Lou,” he said softly, rubbing her arm just firmly enough to wake her. “Babe, you might want to call Mia or your manager or both and let them know you’re catching a ride to Atlanta with me.”
He watched as she opened her beautiful blue eyes and blinked several times. “Mmm. So it wasn’t a dream then.” She grinned and he cocked a brow at her.
“A dream?”
She bit her lip in that way that made him want to do the same. “I thought I dreamed you. I’ve been dreaming of you a lot lately.”
He leaned down to kiss her firmly on the mouth. Because he had to. Brushing his nose against hers, he smiled. “As much as I want to hear about these dreams of yours in explicit detail, you really need to call and let the girls know where you are.”
The clouded haze of sleep cleared and she sat straight up, nearly slamming her head against his as she did. “Oh no. Crap. I don’t have my phone.”
“Here,” he said, handing her his new one from its place on the nightstand.
She stared at it. “Um, I don’t actually know their numbers.”
Trace cleared his throat. Well, this was about to get awkward. “Mia’s is in there,” he said, hoping she wouldn’t read more into this than necessary. They’d transferred his old numbers to his new phone. He kind of wished they hadn’t.
“Okay.” She didn’t look mad, but she was suddenly very interested in scrolling through his contacts to get to Mia’s name. That was a bad thing for more reasons than his still sex-fogged brain could count.
Her jaw clenched as she avoided his gaze. She continued avoiding him as she called Mia and told her in a clipped tone that she was sorry and would see them in Atlanta.
“Hey.” He reached out a finger and tilted her chin so she had to look him in the eye. What he saw in hers stole his breath. Hurt. Fear. Most likely a fear of being hurt. “Don’t look like that. I don’t delete shit from my phone because I’m too lazy to fool with it.”