Steady Beat

by Lexxie Couper

  He helped her, his fingers fumbling over hers in his haste to release it. Remove it.

  Without tearing his lips from hers, he yanked at his fly, caught her hand and pressed it to the engorged erection jutting through the opening of his jeans.

  Pepper wrapped her fingers around his cock, her belly flip-flopping at its massive girth.

  He groaned into her mouth, kneading her breast once again with a hand far from gentle. Far from patient.

  She pumped his length, swiping her thumb over its tip as she did so. Pre-come smeared across his flesh, the tiny beads telling Pepper he was as close to the precipice as she.

  He mauled her breast, pinched her nipple and then dropped his hand to the front of her pants and popped open the top button with exquisite dexterity. He slid determined fingers between her belly and the snug material, sinking closer to her heat.

  Closer.

  With a moan, Pepper yanked her lips from his. “No,” she panted, pressing her free hand to his chest, holding him at bay.

  His nostrils flared. His eyes blazed ice-fire. “Pepper,” he ground out, his breath ragged.

  She shook her head. “You can’t. Not until I do this.”

  Without waiting for his reaction, she dropped to her knees and took his length in her mouth.

  “Holy fuck!” Noah’s hips bucked forward. His cock plunged deeper into her mouth. “Yes!”

  She shoved his jeans lower and cupped his balls in one hand, wrapping the fingers of her other hand around the root of his erection. He was thick, so large, she didn’t circle him completely. Her sex throbbed at the realization. What would he feel like buried inside her?

  Flattening her tongue, she slid her mouth farther down, taking him as far as she could. The bulbous head of his shaft nudged the back of her throat and she moaned.

  “Fuck, Pepper.” His raw groan stroked her senses. He scraped her hair away from her temple with shaky fingers. “That’s so good.”

  She slid back up his length, sucking in her cheeks until her lips ringed the rim of his head, and then sucked her way down to his balls again.

  A shudder rocked through him. His knees buckled. Once.

  “Babe,” he gasped, “fuck, I won’t last long if you—”

  Once more, she drew up his erection, drawing on the rigid steel with growing suction.

  He fisted his hand in her hair. Tried to hold her still.

  She hummed around his length again, flicking at the knot of sensitive glands beneath his cockhead.

  He’d given her so much, she wanted to give him the same in return. She wanted to make him erupt.

  Tugging on his heavy sac, she moved up and down his cock, pumping it with her hand as she did so.

  Noah’s groans rose to the ceiling, the acoustics turning them to a song more perfect than Pepper had ever heard. She grew bold, loving the way he responded to her mouth and hands. Skimming her hand from his shaft, she squeezed his butt cheek. The taut muscle bunched under her grip and she hummed again.

  “Christ,” his fist pulled at her hair, turning her head so he could see her profile, “that…yeah that…”

  She sank down his length again, the searing heat of his stare on her face.

  “Pepper.” Her name fell from him on a hoarse plea. “If you don’t stop…”

  She didn’t want to stop. She wanted to make him come. She wanted to—

  Without warning, he stumbled backward, his cock popping free of her mouth.

  She looked up at him, her heart pounding fast in her throat.

  Stare holding hers, he took another step backward, toed off his boots and, deliberate intent burning in his eyes, shucked his jeans completely off his legs.

  Pepper’s breath caught. And again, when he yanked his shirt up over his head.

  She gazed up at him, unable to find thought.

  He was all rippling, sinewy muscle and pure male strength. Not an ounce of fat graced his form. His shoulders were broad and muscular. His chest, free from hair, was wide, his abs the very definition of a six-pack. A tattoo sat over his heart, the ink simple and sharp. Pepper recognized the star constellation from the Australian flag. Its lowest point, the star at the bottom of the cross, sat just beside his left nipple. It drew her eye and her mouth watered. She would bite that nipple later, while her fingers traced the tat.

  Lowering her stare, she took in the turgid pole of his erection. It jutted upward, emerging from a dark nest of curls trimmed close to his scrotum.

  “It’s been a while since I’ve attacked myself with the clippers,” he said.

  She raised her focus to his face and shook her head. “I’m not complaining.”

  A slow grin pulled at his lips. “Good. Now I think it’s time I made you moan.”

  And before she could move, he crossed back to where she knelt, lowered himself to the ground in front of her, and—with gentle force—slid his body over hers until she was flat on her back on the floor.

  He kissed her. Sucked on her breasts, first one, then the other and back to the first again. Every time she tried to reach for his length, he snared her hands and moved them to the floor beside her head.

  She giggled into his kiss, trying to wrap her fingers around him again.

  Lifting his head, he glared down at her with mock anger. “Behave yourself, Ms. Kerrigan,” he reproached. “I’m busy doing something and you keep interrupting me. Don’t you know I like to keep my attention on one thing and one thing only at a time?”

  She arched her back, needing to feel his rigid heat against the junction of her thighs. “Is that right? And what are you focusing on right now?”

  He grinned. “Making you come.”

  He levered back onto his knees, snared the waistband of her hot pants and tugged them down over her hips, taking her lace thong with it.

  He paused mid-thigh, lowering his head to the dark strip of her pubic hair to flick his tongue over her exposed seam. Pepper gasped, wicked swirls of pleasure filling her vision.

  With a chuckle, he straightened back to a kneeling position, removed her boots, tossed them over his shoulder and stripped her shorts from her body.

  “Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” he whispered, kneeling between her thighs.

  She couldn’t respond.

  The open hunger and desire in his eyes stole her voice.

  He smoothed his hands over her calves, up over her knees, along her inner thighs. When he brushed his fingertips at her wet pussy lips, Pepper drew in a shaky breath. Her clit throbbed, prickling with fresh heat. He parted her folds with two fingers and stroked the swollen nub with increasing pressure.

  She gasped, thrusting her hips upward. A wordless plea for more.

  He gave it to her, rolling a finger back and forth over her clit, faster, his rhythm exquisite torture.

  Pepper tossed her head from side-to-side, clawing at the floor beneath her. Shards of tight pleasure shot through her body. Her breath fell from her in hitching pants.

  Toes curling, she shoved her hips higher, her orgasm rushing at her.

  “Noah.” She closed her eyes, the heat in her core, her belly spreading. “I’m going to…”

  He withdrew his fingers from her sex and replaced them with his tongue.

  “Oh God!” Pepper rammed her pussy harder to his mouth. “That…that…”

  He lapped at her clit, his tongue hot and wet and inescapable. His hands roamed her thighs, spreading her legs wider.

  She whimpered, her existence reduced to Noah’s tongue on her flesh, his hands on her body.

  When he laved at her seam, penetrating the folds with demanding want, Pepper couldn’t stop her cry.

  She bucked again, and again when Noah grabbed her ass cheeks and held her off the floor, sucking the button of her clit into his mouth.

  “F-fuck,” she moaned, tummy hitching, pulse pounding. “I’m going to…I’m going to…”

  She came, the orgasm tearing from her very soul.

  And still Noah worshipped her sex, sucking and
flicking and teasing her clit with his lips and teeth and tongue.

  Another climax smashed through her, more powerful than the first. She rolled her head, slapping at the floor with one hand, seeking Noah’s hair with the other.

  When she thought she was on the cusp of sexual death, when she thought she couldn’t survive the pleasure he wrought on her anymore, he buried a finger into her pussy and stroked her G-spot, his tongue working her clit with frenzied licks.

  A third orgasm detonated within Pepper, a shuddering force that stole her strength. She slumped to the floor, drained.

  Noah slid up her body, his lips brushing hers. “You taste like heaven, babe,” he whispered, his hand brushing the tip of her nipple.

  She opened her eyes and smiled at him. Heat filled her cheeks. “Thank you.”

  He laughed. “Anytime. Anytime.”

  She shifted on the floor, pressing her thigh to the rigid length of his erection. “Will you let me return the favour in kind now?”

  Drawing a deep breath, he closed his eyes. “Fuck, I want to say yes.”

  Pepper’s chest tightened. “Want to? But won’t? Why not?”

  He looked at her, the molten desire in his eyes searing her through to her very soul. “I don’t want to come in your mouth for the first time, Pepper. I’ve ached for this since the second I met you, and I don’t want it to be tawdry. When I finally fill you, I want to bury myself in your sweet cunt and make love to you completely, not just blow my load in your mouth. And the floor of a hired rehearsal space is not the place to make love to you. Not the way I want to.” He trailed his fingers over her nipple again, his gaze following their path. “Besides, you’ve turned me into a bit of a cliché, I’m afraid. I want to make love to you on a bed covered in rose petals with nothing but candles lighting the room as music plays in the background.”

  Pepper’s breath caught at the utterly romantic, sensual image he painted. “Wow.”

  He nodded. “Ever since you kissed me in the bar, my bar now—how ’bout that, I bought a bar today—I’ve imagined making love to you that way. Roses, candles, music…”

  She swallowed, a heavy throb awakening in her core. Christ, she could fall in love with this man so easily. “As long as I get to pick the music,” she murmured, the realization making her chest squeeze.

  He cocked an eyebrow at her, smoothing his fingertips over her stomach to the soft curls of her mound. “And what would you pick?”

  She laughed, rubbing her thigh against his still-erect cock. “There’s this drummer I’m a bit hung up on. Maybe you’ve heard of him? Keith Moon? From The Who?”

  Mock indignation filled Noah’s face. With a growl, he rolled on top of her, imprisoning her beneath his hard weight. His cock ground against her pussy, a delicious torment. Pepper wriggled, aching for its thick length even as she grinned up at him.

  “Keith Moon? Oh, you’re going to pay for that, Ms. Kerrigan.”

  He caught her laughter with a wild kiss, his tongue punishing her with hungry strokes.

  She tangled her fingers in his hair and wrapped her thighs around his hips, the action sliding his cock over the seam of her sex.

  All it would take was one shift of Noah’s hips and he’d be inside her. Inside her.

  Oh God, she wanted him inside her.

  Roses and candles could wait. She just needed him inside her. Now.

  As if hearing her mental plea, Noah broke the kiss and pushed himself from her body. He straightened to his feet, his nostrils flaring, his chest heaving. “I’m getting dressed. You’re getting dressed. Then we’re going back to my hotel room and nothing will stop me fucking you senseless. Understand?”

  Pepper nodded. Her body—so recently sated—thrummed with hungry need again.

  Noah nodded. “Good.” He turned away and scooped up her clothes from where he’d discarded them. With a grin, he held out her hot pants and shirt. “No undies or bra. I’m keeping them. I want to sit in the back of the limo with you beside me thinking about the fact there’s nothing on your pussy but my saliva.”

  Pepper’s breath shook. “Your saliva?”

  He nodded again. “My saliva.”

  And then he dropped to his knees, flattened his palms on her inner thighs and swiped his tongue over her sex, from the base of her seam to her clit.

  She gasped. And groaned with dismay when he rose to his feet again.

  “My saliva,” he repeated.

  With a grin, he snatched his own jeans from the floor and shoved his legs into them. Pepper watched him struggle to tuck his still-rigid cock behind his fly. The swollen organ strained against the zip as he pulled it closed, turning his crotch to a massive bulge.

  She couldn’t help herself. She giggled.

  He dropped a wink. “The beauty of being a rock star? No one will give a flying fuck if I walk around with a hard-on. They expect it.”

  Pepper laughed. “Really?”

  His eyes twinkled with merriment. “Sure. Most of the time bands take to the stage with socks shoved down their trousers to make it look more impressive.”

  Flinging his shirt over his shoulder, he held out his other arm. “Okay, Ms. Kerrigan. Get your arse dressed. We’ve got some romantic, rose-petal-embellished fucking to do.”

  Five minutes later, Pepper climbed back into the same limo she’d arrived in. If the driver thought it curious Noah carried his shirt and boots, rather than wearing them, he didn’t let on. Nor did he react when Noah told him to call the hotel with instructions to cover Noah’s bed with rose petals—a second before raising the privacy glass.

  Pepper gave him a surprised look. “They really do that kind of thing?”

  “For the right guest, they do.” He took her hand, threaded his fingers through hers and placed it in his lap. The hot steel of his erection pressed at her knuckles, a reminder—as if she needed one—of how aroused he was. “I told you I was going to show you the life of a rock star today. It starts with rose petals and fucking.”

  A cold little ripple of unease squirmed through Pepper at his words. She caught her bottom lip. “So you do this kind of thing…the roses…” She paused, hating the doubt and jealousy scratching at her euphoria.

  Noah closed his fingers firmer around hers. He touched her chin, shaking his head. “I’ve never done roses with anyone before, babe. Never. Never wanted to.”

  Pepper’s belly flip-flopped. She studied him, once again aware how easy it would be to love him.

  Was that what she wanted? To fall in love with him? To be his girlfriend? Rather than the singer of his band? It felt right, it truly did, the way it was meant to be, but was that wise? Especially given he’d just come out of an eight-year relationship with a supermodel?

  He may deny she was his rebound fling, but could she risk her heart on that?

  Would she?

  “Hey.” His low voice drew her gaze back to his eyes. Worry swam in their light-blue depths. He frowned. “There’s nothing to be scared of, Pepper. I’m not going to hurt you. I was a bit wild in my young days, sure. I did the insane groupie thing. I’m not going to lie to you about that. What your dad wrote in that article about the band was mostly true. But remember, he also wrote an article just about me a few years later. Did you read that one? The one that said how I’d matured. How I’d left behind the madness, how the music was all that mattered to me? How playing the drums was what motivated me, not the orgies and drugs and fame?”

  His eyes beseeched her.

  Pepper’s heart beat faster. She nodded. “I did read that article,” she answered. “I just…” She stopped, her fears trapped in her throat.

  He brushed his thumb over her bottom lip. “Since I’ve met you, I’ve been motivated by something else. Something new and wonderful.”

  Pepper’s mouth grew dry. “What’s that?”

  He nudged her forehead with his. “Your smile.”

  Warmth flooded Pepper’s cheeks. She lowered her eyes. Tried to duck her head. Noah didn’t let her. He st
ared into her eyes, his hand holding hers to his heart. “Groupies don’t get rose petals and candles, babe. Not even singing ones. Only someone truly amazing, truly beautiful, deserves rose petals and candles.” He brushed a soft kiss over her lips. “And Keith Moon solos.”

  Pepper burst out laughing, the intensity of the moment, as well as her fears and doubts, shattered by Noah’s playful quip.

  He winked at her and then settled back in his seat, returning her hand—still held by his—to his lap. “So tell me,” he said, resting his ankle on his knee, “about Black Toad Dare. Did you enjoy being their manager?”

  Pepper nodded. “I did. It’s the longest job I’ve ever held, and I didn’t consider it work. They were a garage band when I first met them. Dad had been researching indie groups and he told me about this young group of guys—barely out of their teens—who had real potential. He’d sat in on a couple of their rehearsals and was impressed by them. He said with good management they could go far. I was between jobs at the time, with no real sense of direction. I went along with him to one of their first appearances—a homecoming dance at one of the smaller high schools on the east side—and knew straight away they had something.”

  “And you approached them there and then?”

  “Oh God, no.” She snorted. “Chronically shy, remember? I went home and penned the most persuasive letter I could, outlining what I believed their future could be, based on the right management, and offered my services. I may have…elaborated my relationship with most of the important people in the music industry, but only a little. I did know the right people to call and talk to, thanks to Dad. I’d just never actually talked them. The group accepted my offer, not because of who I was but more—I suspect—because of who my father was. Every rock band in the world wants an in with Rolling Stone magazine, and they saw me as that. Still, they agreed to let me be their manager and I managed the shit out of them. By the end of my first three months with them they were playing at music festivals and had appeared in three magazines. By the end of my sixth month, they’d signed their first recording contract with Hypnotic Records and opened for Green Day.”