by Caisey Quinn
“I don’t know if I can.” Trace let his eyes drink in every inch of her wet naked body.
She ran a hand slowly down his chiseled arm. Softly at first, before gripping him harder and pressing herself closer to him. “I’ll be gentle with you.”
Trace’s answering moan echoed off the walls. “This how it’s going to be with you? You making me do all the things I’ve managed to avoid my whole life?”
Kylie smiled the most seductive grin she could manage. “Hope so.” Placing her mouth on his, she pulled him back to where they were before. Back to her wet writhing body, that ached with a need only he could soothe.
Trace used one hand to clutch her chin and hold her still while he explored her mouth with his tongue and his other to open the slick, folded flesh between her thighs.
Kylie’s whimpers grew louder than the water raining down on them. She spread her legs further, giving him full access. He moaned into her mouth as he slid a finger into her opening.
“Maybe I changed my mind,” Kylie said against his lips. Trace pulled back but she didn’t let him go far. “Maybe I want you to fuck me instead.”
“All in due time, darlin’.” As soon as the words were out of his mouth he dropped to his knees and used his fingers to open her even further. Glancing down at him kneeling before her in the steamed up shower almost caused her to come right then. His thick wet tongue pushed against her in slow, torturous licks.
“Oh my God.” Suddenly she was frantic and panting. “Yes, I definitely changed my mind.” Trace licked her harder, dipping his tongue inside of her.
She was definitely not going to live through this. Kylie’s legs threatened to give out and she reached for something to grab. A bar on the shower door was helpful but probably wouldn’t last long under her death grip.
Reaching up to cup her breasts, Trace licked his way north until he was standing. “My sweet, wet girl. So tough on the outside and so soft and sweet on the inside.” He clamped his mouth down on hers and Kylie tasted herself on his lips. Metal clanged and the sound echoed around them. Yep, the bar on the shower door was now hanging from only one end.
Trace either didn’t notice or didn’t care. He lifted her above him, smiling when she wrapped her legs around his waist. Her stomach muscles clenched tightly in anticipation. Fear washed over her. What if she was bad at it?
Kylie felt the tip of him entering her and she bit down on his bottom lip. She needed him inside of her now. Her inner walls were pulling and gripping him tightly as he pressed inward. God, he was huge and thick. She couldn’t imagine how the whole thing would actually fit since his finger had felt like a stretch.
Trace groaned, letting the sound out slowly as he pushed inside of her in one deliciously painful thrust. Something pinched and tore and the intense pressure was too damn much to handle quietly. Whimpers of mingled pain and pleasure escaped Kylie’s throat. She clenched her eyes shut in an attempt to survive it. When she let herself look into his, they were wide with panic.
“Kylie? What the hell? Oh God.” He shook his head and Kylie clenched him tighter. She should’ve told him. But then he might have turned her down. He slammed his hand hard against the shower wall, causing her to flinch.
She couldn’t stand the sadness she saw filling his eyes as he shook his head back and forth. Like he hated himself. Her mouth opened and she said everything and anything she could think of to make it better, so he wouldn’t stop. “I wanted this, wanted you. Wanted you so bad, Trace. I needed it to be you. Please.”
The veins in his neck bulged as he closed his eyes and inhaled sharply. “Dammit, Kylie. Stop,” he commanded without looking at her.
She tried, but she couldn’t force her body to quit sliding up and down his length in a desperate effort to get him to the place she needed. When she did it was pure molten pleasure. It felt so good Kylie lost the power of speech for a moment. And then she was hit with an overwhelming wave of panic. Because it was too damn good. The kind of good that ruins you for everyone and everything else. Nothing would ever be this good again. When he finally opened his eyes, the look he gave her told her that was exactly what he’d intended. Until he’d realized she was a virgin. Trace grabbed her arms, forcing her to stop moving. The cold sting of rejection seized her.
Please no.
Once she was still, he withdrew from inside of her and lowered her to standing. Kylie had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from crying when he turned and shut the water off.
Before she could figure out how to convince him to finish what they’d started, he opened the shower door. The cold blast of air hit her so hard she lost her breath. Wrapping her arms around her wet naked body in an attempt to stop the shivering that was rocking her, she watched helplessly as he stepped out of the shower.
“Cold?” he asked softly.
Talking equaled tears coming, so she nodded and looked away. A surprised squeal escaped her throat when she felt herself being lifted again. Strong sure arms carried her bride-over-the-threshold style to the king-sized bed in the next room.
He laid her on the mattress and stared down at her naked form. “You’re too damn beautiful for your own good. Hell, you’re too damn beautiful for my own good.”
Kylie smiled nervously up at him, unsure of what was coming. “My hair’s going to get your pillows all wet,” she said, leaning up so he could put a towel under her if he wanted.
“Baby, when we’re done, I hope you’ve soaked the whole damn mattress.”
Relief flooded her entire body. As did a much needed warmth. Before she had time to laugh at him for being so crazy, Trace straddled her, cutting off anything else she’d planned to say. The thick ridge of his erection pressed against her. “It’s your first time, Kylie. We’re going to do this right.” Leaning down, he sucked each of her breasts into his mouth, pulling each nipple with his teeth until she moaned his name.
Heat began to build between her legs as he slid off of her. She was warm and wet and ready. Spreading her knees apart with his hand, Trace eyed the juncture at her thighs like a forbidden dessert. “Even this is beautiful,” he said reverently, trailing a finger through her wetness.
Kylie blushed and twitched at the unusual compliment. “Trace.” Her knees tried to snap together but he held her open.
“It is. It’s perfect.” Lowering his mouth to her, he placed gentle licks between her legs until she was arching off the bed. His tongue seemed to be apologizing for the rough treatment his dick had just given her. Not that she was complaining about either. Though his mouth on her oversensitive flesh was so intense, her body strained to pull away.
“Where are you trying to go, darlin’?”
“Mmm.” She couldn’t answer because she couldn’t form any actual words at the moment. She wanted to touch him but her hands were fisted in the comforter beneath her. If she let go, she feared she’d rocket out into space. She was losing control. Part of her hated the feeling. But that part could shut the hell up because what Trace was doing to her was so good she was seconds away from screaming.
Sliding his hands upwards, he tickled her inner thighs and she squirmed. Still licking her clit gently, he pressed a finger deep inside and Kylie’s body stiffened. Moans and whimpers and sounds she couldn’t recreate if her life depended on it, tore from her throat. Pleasure ripped down the middle of her so hard she gave into the urge to scream just to release some of the pressure. Trace didn’t even flinch as she rocked and jerked, nearly kneeing him in the head in an attempt to get some relief from the unrelenting assault of his mouth.
“Oh no, baby. We’re not even close to being done,” he growled against her center.
Oh God.
She’d have to beg him then. Her words came out in a frantic rush. “Trace, oh God. Please. Trace, I can’t take anymore. Please. Please.”
But he didn’t stop. He added another finger inside her and increased the pressure of his tongue. It was too much. Her thoughts fled and she lost herself in a sea of swirling ecst
asy. The room was spinning hard and fast, or maybe just the bed was, but she couldn’t figure out how to make it stop. His mouth moved upward and he replaced his tongue with his thumb on her clit. He braced his muscular frame above her smaller one as his thumb moved in tantalizing circles. His breath tickled her face. “Look at me, Kylie Lou. I want to look into those beautiful blues when you come.”
She forced her eyes open and met his sweltering stare. Her mouth tried to form a word, a plea, something. But nothing came. Actually, she came. But no words did. Trace locked her in his gaze as her body trembled and convulsed of its own accord. He pulled his fingers out of her slowly and she whimpered at the absence.
“Can you handle more, baby?” he asked just before he sucked his fingers into his mouth. The same fingers that were covered in her wetness. Jesus. His eyes held a challenge she hoped she could meet. But she was too weak to answer out loud so she just nodded. Yes, please.
This time when he slid himself inside of her, it didn’t hurt at all. Her hips rose, rocking in the same slow, rhythmic pace he set for them. Finally able to release the handfuls of comforter, she wrapped her arms around him, digging her fingers into his back in an effort to pull him down on her.
“No, no, no, little miss I call the shots. You’ve been demanding and in control for long enough. My turn now.” Reaching behind him, he pulled her hands away and gripped her wrists firmly enough to cause a slight pinch of pain. He pinned them above her head and continued sinking into her and withdrawing while staring into her eyes from above.
Leaning down, he whispered into her ear. “When I’m finished, you’ll barely be able to stand me not being inside of you.”
EVERYTHING WOULD be different between them now and for that reason, Kylie never wanted to leave his arms, his bed, or his house. Maybe for a few other reasons, too. For the first time in a long time, she felt protected, safe. Home. She was also feeling pretty pissed off at herself. She should not be letting herself want this. Sleeping with him was one thing, wanting more than that was just outright asinine.
“Everything okay?” he murmured into her hair as he held her naked body against his.
She snuggled down into the covers, wiggling her backside against his crotch. Who knew spooning could be so hot?
“Again?” he asked, not bothering to keep the shock out of his voice. This would be the third time. Trace’s mouth met her bare shoulder with a hot wet kiss.
Kylie purred softly. “Mmm, maybe, if you’re up for it, old man. But we should probably get going soon.” Back to reality, she thought bitterly.
“Ah to be young and free,” his warm voice teased as he kissed her neck. Oh God. Free. Could she ever really be free of Darla? Since their discussion earlier, nagging thoughts about what Darla might try to do if Kylie garnered any type of success had been plaguing her. Now was so not the time, but he deserved to know the truth.
“Listen, Trace, about that—”
“Hold that thought.” He grabbed his vibrating phone off the nightstand. She didn’t even remember him getting it. He must’ve gotten it at some point when she’d dozed off.
“Hi, Pauly. Yeah, working on that now. Okay, okay, relax. We’ll be there soon.” He paused and ran his hand down the length of Kylie’s side. “Yeah I know,” he snapped into the phone, the sharpness of his voice contrasting with the gentleness of his touch. She heard a click before Pauly had finished talking.
She twisted around so she could look at him. “Did you just hang up on him?”
“I did.”
“Trace!”
“Well, he was ruining the moment. Where were we?”
Kylie opened her mouth to finish her sentence from earlier but looking into his eyes stopped her cold. They were the same stormy color they’d been that night at The Rum Room. This might be all she ever got. Talking could wait.
“We were right about here,” she told him, pressing herself against him once more. He was right. She already couldn’t stand for him not to be inside of her. This would probably be the last time, she thought to herself, so she wanted it to be everything.
“PAULY HAS called me eleven times,” Kylie told Trace as they wolfed down their burgers on the drive back to the bus.
“He’s just stressed we won’t make it in time to rehearse at Tin Roof. He’ll calm down once we get there.” His confidence was mildly reassuring, but Kylie didn’t mention the texts Pauly was sending in rapid-fire succession telling her to get as far as possible from Trace and call him ASAP.
When they pulled into the RV lot where the tour bus was parked, Trace shut off the engine but didn’t make a move to get out.
When our feet hit the ground this will all be just a memory and nothing more. They’d do their last show and go their separate ways. Something deep inside of her ached in the way it had when the police had told her about her dad. My soul, she realized. Letting go of Trace after having him for even less than twenty-four hours was hurting her soul. Because I am obviously outside my ever-loving mind.
Trace didn’t seem to be in a hurry to exit the truck either. Even though it was beginning to feel as if there wasn’t enough oxygen in the cab for both of them. “Kylie? You okay?”
She couldn’t risk crying, not now, after everything. So she just shook her head. No.
“Is it Pauly? ‘Cause I promise, he’ll be fine once this last show ends and wraps this tour up smoothly.”
Smoothly. Huh. The thought of it ending now felt jagged and razor sharp to her. “I know. I’m sure you’re right,” she said quietly.
He stopped wadding the paper wrapper from his sandwich and stared at her for a moment. “Then why do you look terrified of getting out of this truck?”
Kylie took a deep breath. There was already one lie between them. She couldn’t stand to add another. “Music has been my…everything, for as long as I can remember. It’s the only connection I have left to my dad.” She paused to swallow the lump ascending into her esophagus. “There have been times when I’ve chosen it over food and shelter. I’d take it over air if I could survive.” It was the truth. She’d live, breathe, and eat it if she could.
“Kylie, it’s fine. I prom—”
“That’s not it,” she said, shaking her head and staring straight out of the windshield to avoid the intensity of his probing eyes. “I’m not afraid of losing music—no one can really take that from me, not even Pauly.”
“Then what—”
“It’s always come first, been what’s made every painful thing bearable. Before today, there was never anything I’d have even thought about doing for a second if it meant risking my shot.” She paused, as startled by her own realization as he was probably about to be. “But if I could relive the past twenty-four hours over again every day for the rest of my life...I’d give it up altogether.”
I’m afraid of losing you, she wanted to add but didn’t because it would make her seem pathetic. And also because Pauly had stormed off of the bus and was heading straight for them. He didn’t look angry like she expected him to. He looked…panicked.
Trace got out of the truck without saying a word. She flinched when the door slammed shut. She watched as he made his way to her door, trying to soothe Pauly the whole way. It didn’t appear to be working.
“Don’t touch her!” Pauly shouted at Trace when he opened her door and reached in to help her out of the cab.
Trace jerked his head towards his manager. “Jesus, Pauly, what the hell is wrong with you?”
“You,” Pauly seethed in her direction, “have a visitor.”
“WELL, AS I live and breathe,” Darla drawled as soon as Kylie stepped onto the bus. “Mr. Corbin, I’m a big fan of yours. It’s truly a pleasure to meet you. Everyone back in Pride can hardly believe our little Kylie here is touring with such a big star.”
“Um, thanks.” Trace shook the woman’s hand, shooting Kylie a puzzled look. God take me now, please.
“What the hell are you doing here?” Kylie blurted out. She and Darla had never
really been anything more than barely civil to each other, and after the last time she’d seen the woman, she didn’t see the point of even bothering with that.
“Well now, Kylie, I think the better question is what exactly are you doing here? And according to the interviewer from Country Weekly, I should be asking exactly what, or rather who, you’ve been doing while you’ve been here.”
Her stepmother had on a tight red tank top and Kylie’s mother’s pearls. Took the phrase ‘seeing red’ to a whole new level.
“Since you and I are nothing, I can’t see how anything I do is really any of your business.” Kylie knew she was snarling and that wasn’t exactly the version of herself she wanted Trace or Pauly to see, but it really couldn’t be helped.
“Oh darlin,’ I’m not here for you,” Darla informed her, using her best southern belle patronizing tone. “I’m here to protect poor Mr. Corbin here from a sneaky little snake in cowgirl boots before she bites him the same way she did my poor Leo and Jakeykins.”
“What’s going on, Kylie?” Trace asked, his head turning from her to Darla to Pauly and back around again.
The mention of Leo made Kylie flinch. He was the worst one. The reason she had to put a bolt lock on her bedroom door.
Clearly tired of the charade, Pauly blurted out, “Mrs. Ryans here has some information about Kylie that she is willing to keep quiet for the right amount of money.”
All the blood rushed to Kylie’s head as if Darla were hanging her upside down.
“What kind of information?” Trace asked, directing his attention to Pauly.
“She hasn’t shared all the details with me yet,” the weary looking manager answered.
“How much do you want, Darla? Because right now I’m basically working for the price of what it costs me to travel and perform. I haven’t received any money yet but I will give you whatever you want as soon as I can, provided that you stay the hell out of my life so long as we both shall live.” Her heart slammed against her chest, seemingly as desperate to escape the situation as she was. She was wilting quickly under the heat of Trace’s glare.