by Tonya Brooks
The pressure against her overly sensitized nerve endings sent Cyn into a frenzy of need. She went wild in his arms and met him thrust for thrust. In this position her hands couldn't touch enough of him, her lips and tongue tasting every inch of flesh she could reach. She was starving for him and once just hadn't been enough. She wanted everything he had to give.
The woman obviously had an appetite as voracious as his own and the knowledge sent him over the edge again. John couldn't get enough of her. No matter how deep he thrust or how tightly he held her, he just. Couldn't. Get. Enough, and it was obvious that Cyn felt the same way.
When their second climax came, John crushed her against him, the sound of her voice screaming his name echoing in his head. He lifted her completely into his arms and buried himself so deeply inside of her that he didn't know where he stopped and she began.
“Damn, you're good.” Cyn said breathlessly as she leaned against him completely boneless, her lips placing nibbling kisses against his neck. If anything the second time had been better than the first and she was astonished at the realization.
“You're unbelievable,” he breathed and dropped his forehead onto her shoulder. John could not believe how hot they were together. Every sexual encounter he'd ever experienced before paled in comparison to the woman in his arms. And that was saying a hell of a lot.
“We look good together.” Cyn said as she saw their reflection in the glossy wall opposite them and her eyes darkened in desire at the image. Yeah, she'd been through a long dry spell, but this was insane. Something about this man had set her blood on fire and turned her into a raving nymphomaniac. “I still want you, John,” she said in simple sincerity as her eyes met his.
"Darlin', no way in hell I'm done with you," he promised. John kicked the jeans off of his foot, tossed the condom in the trash and replaced it with a fresh one. It would take a hell of a lot more than one night to get this woman out of his system. He was going to enjoy every fuckin' minute of it.
John lifted her in his arms and carried Cyn into the office. He stood her on her feet, snatched the shirt over his head and pulled the Murphy bed out of the bookcase that concealed it. Then he removed her miniskirt and knelt to remove her shoes. When he stood up he realized just how petite she was without those killer heels on.
Cyn barely reached the center of his chest and she looked so delicate that he knew he'd been too rough with her. Both times. The woman hadn't complained once, but he needed to tone it down before he hurt her. Maybe he should let her take the lead again. His eyes burning with desire, he challenged, “Show me how much you want me, Cyn.”
She did. The woman damn near licked every inch of him before she dropped to her knees to pay homage to his dick. That shit drove him insane. He tossed her onto the bed and took her with just as much urgency as he had experienced the first two times. The reminder to be gentle long forgotten in the all consuming heat of passion.
This time, she snuggled sleepily against his side, both of them exhausted, replete and too sated to move. John pulled the blanket over them and slept in utter contentment with her in his arms.
Chapter Three
Saturday, May 24
Cyn stretched languidly her body relaxed and comfy, even if she did have a few twinges from unused muscles. A contented sigh left her as she snuggled deeper into the warm body wrapped around her. She had never known that sex could be so incredible, but she did now. John had lived up to his bad boy image and then some. And oh, mama, those pearls. A well satisfied smile curved her lips.
John woke to the feel of a soft, curvaceous body pressed firmly against him and his arm tightened around her waist instinctively. Having just discovered the purpose for morning wood, his arousal unerringly sank slowly into her snug depths of its own accord.
Cyn gasped her consent and arched her sweet little ass back, taking him deep. Goddamn she fit him like a glove. So fuckin' tight. She was so hot. So wet. He'd never felt anything like it. Nothing had ever felt this good. It was... John froze mid-stroke as his eyes popped open in realization. "Shit. Damn. Sonuvabitch."
"What?" Cyn moaned without any real concern as she thrust her hips back and impaled herself on his length again.
John grabbed her hip and held her still. He knew he needed to pull out, but he'd just as soon cut his dick off as leave her now. She felt too goddamn good. "Got a problem, darlin'," he admitted heavily. "Forgot the condom." He felt her tense against him and prepared for Cyn to unleash a shit storm of fury on his head.
Not that he could blame her, but damn, he'd never woken up with a woman in his bed before. Morning sex was new and his dick had acted on instinct before his brain had time to wake up. "Never had sex without latex. I'm clean," he confessed and waited for her to say the same. Prayed she'd say the same.
"I get shots regularly," Cyn admitted as her sleep clouded synapses starting firing.
His entire body went rigid as panic swirled in his brain. The fuck was she getting shots for? An STD? The thought seriously scared the hell out of him, so his smoky voice was a bit shaken when he asked, "Shots?"
"Birth control," she elaborated in a rush as she realized what he must be thinking. "I'm clean, too."
Relief surged through him and when his body relaxed against hers, he sank deeper. They moaned in unison. While he still could, John offered, "Want me to get a condom?"
"No," she sighed and reached back to grab his ass and hold on. "Feels too good."
That was all he needed to know.
~~~~~
Much later they lay sprawled across the bed in decadent splendor. Cyn took the opportunity to visually explore the body she now knew so well by touch. And oh, mama, what a body it was. The man was ripped from head to toe and she had licked every gorgeous inch. Repeatedly. In the dark. Now that she could see all that rippling muscle, she wanted to do it again.
He had the hands of a musician with long agile fingers, hands that knew how to wring beautiful music from an instrument or cries of ecstasy from a woman. Both of his wrists sported a variety of black leather bracelets and he wore woven silver bands on the pinky and ring fingers of his right hand.
On his right arm was an elaborate tattoo of a guitar that actually looked as if the strings vibrated when his deltoid and bicep muscles flexed. His tattoo artist had some major talent to give it that three dimensional effect. It was truly a work of art and a perfect representation of his musical abilities.
On his right side, beneath his arm, was a set of lyrics in beautiful flowing script. She recognized it as the chorus of Turn The Page. The perfect song for a musician, Cyn realized since it epitomized the good and bad of the lifestyle. It also personified the man. When John played he poured everything he had into the music.
Out there in the spotlight
you’re a million miles away
Every ounce of energy
you try to give away
As the sweat pours out your body
like the music that you play
From this position she could also see a musical staff complete with notes that wrapped around his left bicep a couple of times in a downward spiral. Cyn had no idea what it represented other than his love for music and she hated to ask. When people permanently marked their bodies, it was commonly done for sentimental reasons, and more often than not, the meaning was deeply personal.
John didn't even bother to open his eyes when he asked, "Like what ya see, darlin'?" He had felt her looking at him for the last few minutes and simply lay there waiting for a reaction. Some women got seriously turned on by his muscles, some were hot for the ink. He wondered which one she preferred.
"Yeah, I do. Nice to know you look as good as you feel," she said with a devilish smile and raised up on her elbow to prop her head in her hand.
His hand trailing sensuously up and down her silky thigh, he opened his eyes and just had to ask, "The ink or the muscle?"
"Both," she admitted and ran her hand over his chest. "All three tattoos are beautiful and the muscle
s are gorgeous."
"Five," he corrected lazily, more content than he could ever recall feeling.
"Hmm?" Came the absent response as her fingertips trailed lightly down his washboard abs to the delicious V below.
"Five tattoos."
Cyn's head popped up as her eyes ran up and down the length of his naked body. "What did I miss?"
Oh, yeah. She liked both. John held up his wrists for inspection. The multitude of leather bracelets he wore obscured the ink from view. "Right one says, Music is my life. Left one, The lyrics are my story," he explained.
"Wow. That's really deep," she said seriously. "All of your tattoos are." The average person did not have as much insight into their psyche. John was a very complex man and her analytical mind wanted to peel back every layer and study him in greater depth. Her libido was more interested in studying his gorgeous body in greater detail. Especially those lovely pearls.
John was surprised at her perceptiveness. Most women just thought they were pretty and never bothered to consider what they meant. It was impressive as hell that she had picked up on it, but not something he wanted to waste time discussing. He rolled so that she was beneath him and said, "Darlin', this is deep," as he slid inside her.
Cyn merely moaned her reply.
~~~~~
John very reluctantly let Cyn out of bed when he got a text that the band had arrived to tweak the sound system. Fortunately he had already collected their discarded clothes from around the bar so they actually had something to put on. He pulled her into his arms for one last lingering kiss and the fire that burned between them threatened to combust again.
"If you don't let me walk out that door right now we're gonna wind up back in bed," she said as she slid her hands over his shoulders and down his arms.
"Uh huh," he agreed with a complete lack of concern as he trailed nibbling kisses down her neck.
"John, I'm not kidding," Cyn warned as she slid her hands up under his shirt to caress all those beautiful muscles.
Pounding sounded on the door and John cussed a blue streak at the interruption. Yeah, he had a foul mouth, but Cyn didn't seem to mind. She sure as hell hadn't minded him talking dirty before their last session when he'd told her everything he planned to do to her in graphic detail. Her response had been just as graphic and hotter than hell.
"We'll finish this tonight," he promised.
"Maybe," she teased, not wanting him to just take it for granted that she'd drop her thong on command. Damn right she would, for him, but he didn't have to know that. Before Cyn knew how it had happened, she was pinned firmly between the wall and a buck eighty-five of solid muscle.
"Maybe?" He growled as those intense blue eyes practically devoured her. Maybe, his ass. This was no one and done. This was a once in a lifetime, grab you by the balls occurrence. No way was it over yet.
"Don't start thinking I'm easy just because I banged your headboard last night." Cyn warned as she lightly raked her nails down his chest. Her depraved behavior had most assuredly given him that erroneous impression. She didn't do one night stands, which was why she had been deprived.
"Luke won't let Easy bang my headboard, darlin', " John couldn't resist teasing as his hands slid from her hips to her ass and pulled their lower bodies into full contact. "But you can anytime."
She couldn't help laughing at the reference to his brother's fiancée and shoved playfully at his chest. "That's not what I meant," she protested lightly. "I'm not a booty call."
She wasn't just a hook up, for damn sure. John didn't have a clue what the hell there was other than that, but he wanted more. A lot more. "Agreed," he said and lifted one hand to trail his fingertips gently down her cheek. "Want you in my bed tonight, darlin'. Tell me how to make that shit happen."
"You could sing me a song," Cyn suggested and arched one eyebrow at him. From what she'd seen last night, women fell all over themselves to get in his bed and John didn't have to do a damn thing to encourage them. Challenging him to pursue her would rouse his primal instincts.
"Darlin', I'll sing you to sleep," he promised with that cocky as hell bad boy smile. And she'd sure as shit be in his bed when he did.
"I'm gonna hold you to that."
The pounding began again and he released her in resignation."You'd better go before they break the damn door down." John complained as he stepped back and opened the door.
"Tonight," Cyn said with a wink and flashed a smile at Alex as she passed by him in the doorway. "See ya, Alex."
"Yeah, girl. You will." Alex assured her with a wicked smile and watched her fine ass walk away. "Umm, umm, umm. That's gonna be one wild ass ride," he said and turned to John. The scowl on his best friend's face came as a surprise. "What?"
"Don't even think about it," John warned. He knew exactly what the other man was thinking and there was no way in hell he was gonna let it happen. With those laughing green eyes, shoulder length blonde hair and surfer boy attitude, Alex was a chick magnet. He'd be dammed if his drummer was going to turn that lethal charm loose on Cyn.
"Dude, that's all I've thought about since I laid eyes on her," he admitted with his usual bluntness. "The only reason I didn't make a move last night was because you were all up on that."
"Yeah, well I'm gonna be all up on that again tonight," he announced.
"Wanna share?"
It wouldn't be the first time that they had shared a woman, whether together or separately, but the thought of another man's hands on Cyn set John's teeth on edge. "Never gonna happen, bro."
Alex laughed his ass off at that. "My boy staked a claim? Dayum, she must be as hot as she looks," he deduced.
John and Alex were a couple of unrepentant manwhores who'd seen more ass than the toilet seat in a public restroom. And yeah, they talked a lot of shit when it came to banging babes. It was crude and rude, but they were dudes, and dudes did stupid shit like that. But this time it pissed John off.
"Cyn's different," he growled, yes, he actually growled at his best friend in warning. "Don't want you talkin' shit about her. Ya feel me?"
"I feel ya, bro," Alex managed to say before he burst out laughing again. Johnny B. Bad had hooked up with a chick for more than a night. This was one for the record books.
"Get your asses in gear," Ricky called from the stage at the opposite end of the room. "We doing this or what?"
"Yeah, we're doin' it," John called back as he led the way to the stage. The sound system had been almost perfect the night before, but it could use a couple of tweaks to make it even better. Unlike sex with Cyn, which couldn't get any better, he thought with a wicked smile. If it did, he'd never survive.
~~~~~
“You and John looked pretty hot onstage last night,” Desi teased when Cyn joined them at a table by the pool that afternoon.
“Since neither one of you came home last night, I assume things got even hotter,” Harley just had to add and was thrilled that the pair had hit it off as they had hoped.
“Let’s just say I need to invest in flame retardant thongs and leave it at that,” she grinned mischievously and sank into a chair.
“I knew he was perfect for you,” Harley crowed happily and gave Desi a fist bump because their attempt at matchmaking had worked.
“Now, Aunties, don’t get your panties in a twist,” Cyn warned as she picked up the pitcher of iced tea and poured herself a glass. “John and I discussed it last night and neither of us has any interest in a relationship.”
"What?" Desi gasped in shock and could not believe their plan had failed.
“Are you telling me that last night was just a one and done?” Harley demanded and was seriously considering the de-nutting.
"Nooo. We were well past that stage and onto round three before we finally got around to taking our clothes off," she admitted with a devilish smile and sipped the tea. Messing with her aunts was so much fun and one of her favorite pastimes. Besides, they deserved it for trying to play matchmaker.
The two older wom
en shared a knowing look. Since they were both married to bad Baker boys, they knew she wasn’t kidding. “So, you’re telling us that you and John are... what?” Desi queried with a worried frown.
“Having mind blowing sex as often as possible,” was the well satisfied reply. “Anything more than that is out of the question.”
“Josie is gonna kill me,” Harley groaned in dismay at the way her plan had backfired.
“Jeez, Aunt Harley, I’m twenty-six. Mom knows I have sex.” Cyn just had to point out in case they didn't realize it either. Although it had been so long since she'd had sex that they might have forgotten.
“Yeah, but she also knows that we were trying to hook you two up,” Desi complained and knew that Josie would give them hell for this. Cindy was her only child and the woman was extremely protective of her.
“You did, and trust me, I'm very grateful for it, but a hook up is all it can be,” she insisted. “Now stop worrying. John and I are adults. It’ll all work out fine.”
“Sorry we’re late,” Easy said as she and her sister Dizzy Walker walked out onto the verandah.
“It’s my fault,” Dizzy admitted. “I got caught up writing a scene and lost track of the time.”
“How’s the new book coming?” Desi asked curiously since their friend was a famous author of mystery novels.
“Oh, God, don’t ask,” Easy pleaded with a shudder as she poured them both a glass of tea. “This one is full of blood and gore and she just had to tell me all about it over lunch. Yuck.”
Shooting her sister an exasperated look, Dizzy merely replied, “It’s going great. Brett loves it.”
Harley laughed and said, “Your husband would love a cookbook if you wrote it.”