“I’m sorry if I scared you.”
“I think I’m scared of how much I like you.”
That makes two of us.
“Why were you looking for me?” I asked her again.
“Because, I wanted to…” She faded off, her gaze dropping to my lips.
“Wanted to what?”
“I was hoping you’d guess so I don’t have to say it.”
“Say it.”
“I want to… suck your cock,” she said softy, and kinda rolled her eyes like she was embarrassed. “But for some reason, I’m afraid to tell you that.” She squeezed her eyes shut, cringing. “I guess I just did.”
“Open your eyes.”
She opened one eye. “Why am I afraid you might say no?”
“Maybe because you can sense that I’m fucking terrified.”
She opened the other eye. “Of what?”
“Of blowing my load the split second you touch me, and having you decide that doing your nails would be a great way to spend the rest of your night.”
She burst out laughing.
“Laughing is helping, though,” I said dryly.
“I’m sorry. Why are men so touchy about the quick release thing?”
“Uh…”
“I mean, if it happened every time, I’d be concerned. And yeah, probably turned off. But if it happens a few times, especially early in a relationship when you’re nervous and excited and new to each other, or just sometimes, when it’s too hot to handle… I don’t know. If you’re so worked up that you come that fast, I’m gonna take it as a compliment until you tell me otherwise.”
“It’s a compliment,” I told her.
“See?”
“But maybe if you give me a minute I won’t humiliate myself.”
She rolled her eyes, but smiled. “I mean, fine. If there’s something you’d rather be doing right now than getting a blowjob…”
I groaned. “Let’s just talk for a minute.”
“Because that’ll kill your hard-on?” She laughed again.
“No. Unfortunately for me, everything you do makes me hard.”
“Everything?”
“So far.”
“Just talking?”
“Yup.”
“Eating my chip sandwiches? Cracking my gum?”
“Definitely.”
“Singing April Wine?”
“I almost came in my pants.”
She grinned. “Now you’re making fun of me.”
“Just trying to distract us both.”
Her smile faded. She was still playing with my hair, and I really could’ve laid here like this with her all night.
“Well, while we’re just talking…” she said. “I have another confession.”
“Okay.” I held my breath without even meaning to, tensing up again. I didn’t trust myself or my reactions to anything.
I didn’t want anything to ruin this.
“I once made out with Matt Brohmer.”
I waited, but that was all she said, so I exhaled. “That’s all?”
She laughed nervously. “That’s all? You’re not bothered by it?”
“Uh… I mean, obviously he’s a fucking dick and you’re not allowed to do it again.”
She laughed again. “Okay, that’s a little better. Should I not have told you, though?”
I dug deep for the courage to tell her, “You can tell me anything you want to.”
“I just didn’t want to cause any drama or leave you in the dark. I thought I should tell you in case you’d feel weird about it because you’re now working with him. I mean, he’s a member of the band you’re producing. I didn’t want it to be a source of conflict.”
“It won’t be,” I assured her. Because even if I decided I hated the guy because of it, I wasn’t gonna put that on her. “As long as it’s not an ongoing thing.”
“No. It was one of those crazy things. It shouldn’t have even happened. Wouldn’t have happened, probably. But… there was a lot of spiced rum and mulled wine involved.”
“Sounds festive.”
“It happened at a Christmas party last year.”
“I see.”
“I was kinda drowning myself in rebound. I’d caught my boyfriend with another woman in my bed that day.”
“Oh. Fuck.”
“Yeah. So, I got really drunk at a party at Brody’s place and then some of us went back to Ash and Danica’s after. And Matt and I made out. We were both hammered. From what I remember, I made the first move, which is not like me. I mean, I’m a girl who knows what she wants and usually has no trouble going for it. But sexually… I like a man to make the first move. I don’t know what I was thinking. We just kissed and stuff. And then I kinda threw up and realized how drunk I was and went home. And then Danica basically asked me politely never to do that again.”
“Throw up in her house?”
“Make out with Matt.”
“Why?”
“Um, because there’s kind of a… history of sorts… between Matt and Ash. Which is zero-percent my business and it’s not yours either, so I really hope you can keep your mouth shut.”
“Yeah. I’m kind of a vault over here.”
She grinned. “I like that about you.”
“So… nothing else between you and Matt?”
“Nope. And for the record, I wasn’t overstepping. At least, I thought I wasn’t. Danica told me I could go for him. She actually handed me the mistletoe that I used to make my move. But that was when she was drunk. I guess when she sobered up later, she changed her mind. I dunno. She’s kinda protective of her husband and the whole bisexuality thing. As in, he is.” She looked at me like she was wondering if I knew that about Ashley.
“Right.”
“Anyway, it’s complicated. I think she got nervous about any kind of friction coming up down the road between me and Ash, over Matt, or whatever. You know, like if I kept mistletoeing him. I think she was worried how Ash would feel about it. I’m not even sure I should be telling you all this…”
“It’s okay if you don’t,” I said. “Other people’s relationships are pretty much at the bottom of the list of things I’m interested in trying to figure out. And besides, I don’t really want gossip on the band. I don’t need it in my head when I’m working. What they do outside the studio really doesn’t matter to me.” I decided, quickly, to amend that. “That is, as long as none of them are doing you.”
“Okay.” She smiled a little. “Honestly, I don’t know Matt very well. We’ve only talked a few times, casually, at parties and stuff. I don’t think he’s interested in me. I don’t think there was any real chemistry between us. Just a lot of alcohol.”
“You don’t have to explain,” I said, though I was secretly relieved to hear it.
“I just want to make it clear, I’m not interested in him or anyone else. I haven’t been with anyone else since my last breakup, and I haven’t even kissed anyone since that drunken shit show with Matt.”
“Is it wrong that that turns me on?”
“What turns you on?”
“That you’re all mine.”
“I am. If you want me to be.”
“I do.”
“Does that mean you’re all mine, too?”
“Yeah.” I considered that. And how fucking weird my life must seem to someone like her—a normal woman who went to Christmas parties and made out with guys under the mistletoe if she felt like it. “I know it’s fucking strange that I don’t go out much. And I know you have a life. I know there will be times when you’re out without me. I just want to know that you’re coming home to me and I can trust you.”
“You can trust me, Cary.”
“Good.” My pulse was still thudding dully in my cock. I was still hard, but I was breathing better. “Take out my cock.”
Her mouth drifted open, and the arousal on her flushed face, in her glittering eyes, was clear.
“Please,” I added. I could tell she kinda liked it when
I was bossy. But there was no reason to be impolite.
Her hands drifted down my body to my jeans. I shifted my hips a little, giving her access, and she brushed her fingers over the thick ridge pressed to the denim. My dick flexed, wanting freedom, wanting her, and she made a little hungry noise in the back of her throat.
“I seriously am not gonna last long,” I told her, maybe trying to speed her up, my voice thick with lust, as she popped the button. Then she slid the zipper slowly down. My cock pressed against the soft fabric of my underwear, making an obscene tent situation, as she peeled the jeans open. Her patience and the look of horny awe on her face was gonna kill me.
“Oh, wow,” she breathed, as she peeled my underwear down, mercifully freeing my cock. I had no idea what that wow was about, but I’d take it. She grasped my shaft in her hand, squeezing a little as she stroked, up and down, kinda relieving the pressure and kinda just making it worse. She touched the head with her other hand, just her fingertips, and smeared the thick bead of precome around, making it all slick.
My hips punched up off the couch, involuntarily, wanting more.
I was breathing raggedly, but any anxiety faded away, drowned out in the pleasure and the anticipation. She slid off the edge of the couch, getting down on her knees on the floor. She lowered her head and flicked her tongue over my cockhead, laving the slit and then sucking the whole thing into her soft mouth.
I groaned and tried to keep still. I wanted to cram the whole length of my cock into her wet warmth, but I didn’t. I just watched her as she worked her way slowly down, wetting me with swipes of her tongue before she took me a little deeper, then easing back to the head, over and over again.
I tried to relax and enjoy it as long as I could stand to, but I knew it would be over too fast if we kept this up. So I told her, “Take off your clothes.”
She met my eyes.
“I want to look at you.”
She took her time, sucking me into her mouth again for a slow, hot minute, teasing me, before letting me go. Then she got to her feet. She slipped off her hoodie. Then her tank top. Then her bra, her breasts bouncing free. Her nipples were hard, a dark, swollen pink. She stripped off her shorts and pushed her panties down over her hips, slowly, watching me as I watched her.
I wanted to see her naked.
I wanted to see what it would do to me.
She dropped the panties and stepped out of them. I let my eyes drift over her naked curves, and my cock got impossibly harder.
She climbed over me, kneeling above me on the couch. I drifted my hands up her thighs. They were spread, her knees planted on either side of my hips, her pussy bared to me. I drifted my thumb over her clit and watched her shudder. She stayed like that, one hand on the back of the couch for support, as I drifted my fingers over the soft flesh between her legs and she trembled.
Her eyes met mine, hooded with desire.
I really didn’t think I could feel like this again.
But the way Taylor looked at me, the way she responded to me… the intensity of what I was already feeling for her was blowing me away.
“Lie down,” I said. My voice was tight and gravelly with lust.
She lay back on the couch as I got up and crawled over her. I smoothed her hair back from her face and kissed her. Our lips met, and I thrust my tongue into her. She met every movement, her hands sliding up the back of my neck and her fingers digging into my hair. My cock pressed into her soft thigh.
I broke away. “I think I’m obsessed with you,” I panted. It felt only fair to warn her.
“What does that mean?”
“It means you should probably get out of here.”
Her eyes held mine, unflinching. “What if I stay?”
I blinked at her. Obviously, she wasn’t running like I’d pretty much assumed she’d be doing by now.
I couldn’t fathom why.
“I don’t have a condom,” I told her.
“Uh…”
“The only woman I’ve been with in the last year got tested regularly and so did I. We always used protection.”
“Me, too. I always do.”
“Are you on the pill?”
“Yes.”
I shifted my hips to press my cock against her pussy, rubbing the shaft against her clit until she moaned. I was afraid she might ask questions. About this woman. About how I got tested when I didn’t leave my house.
So I kept grinding against her clit in hopes of distracting her. Cheap move, but I didn’t stop.
Then she lifted her hips, angling herself to take me.
“Okay,” she breathed. “Yes.”
I looked at her eyes, and I didn’t stop looking as I pushed into her. Then her eyes closed.
I groaned as her heat squeezed me. So smooth and wet… I drew my hips back and did it again. Her eyes opened as I fucked her. She moaned each time I buried my cock in her heat.
I reached down and rolled my fingertips around her clit, gently, hoping to get her at least close to where I was before I lost it.
“I’m afraid this is gonna be the shittiest fuck you ever had…” I choked out.
“Um… this is already the best fuck I ever had, so…”
I couldn’t imagine how that was possible. But I was hardly capable of much conversation right now. “Is harder okay?” I managed.
“Yes.”
Good. Because I was already sweating trying to hold back. I rammed into her harder and she moaned appreciatively. I wasn’t sure I’d ever been so careful with a woman before. I knew she wanted me, but I was still fucking terrified of scaring her away.
I was pretty accustomed to having my way during sex. Being the boss, so to speak. And the women I was with enjoying it.
But.
I hadn’t actually liked a woman like this in so long, I could barely remember the etiquette.
“How rough do you want me?”
Her eyes met mine again. “Uh… kinda rough?”
I experimented, fucking her hard, but slow, one deep stroke at a time while I basically fought to hold back my orgasm. At the same time, I held her down with my weight. I pressed her thigh up, spreading her open as wide as I could, making her moan. I played with her, biting a nipple, lightly, then a little harder, while my fingers worked her clit in quick, urgent strokes.
She moaned and kneaded my ass with her hands, and kissed my throat. I could feel her pussy tightening around me as she worked her hips against me.
“I have to come,” I grit out, when she scraped her nails across my back and my balls tightened.
“Come inside me,” she said, and that was all I could take. I leaned up on an elbow and pressed my other hand to her throat, holding her there, as my hips picked up the pace. My head was already spinning, turning over all the ways I was gonna beg for her forgiveness and make this up to her—on my knees, with my mouth on her pussy, any fucking way she wanted it.
But then her hips snapped up against me and she let out a garbled scream under my hand.
My fingers tightened around her throat as she jerked beneath me, coming so hard her face flushed. She slammed her head back on the couch a few times as the spasms racked her whole body. I was so in awe of it, the next thing I knew, I was slamming my hips up into her as my balls seized and I exploded deep inside her.
I groaned as the molten pleasure surged from my body into hers.
When I finally finished, my whole body collapsed on top of her. My hand was still on her throat, and I stroked her gently. I kissed her throat, wondering if I’d hurt her.
“You are so fucking beautiful,” I whispered against her throat. Her breasts were soft against my chest as she breathed beneath me. I kissed her jaw, her lips, and met her eyes. I didn’t even want to get up. My cock was softening but still deep inside her and I didn’t want to go anywhere. “I don’t want to let you go,” I whispered.
She kissed my lips and said, “Then don’t.”
Chapter Twelve
Taylor
Lov
e the Way You Are
The next morning, I didn’t sit next to Cary while we worked. Now that we’d had sex, I wondered if my presence would distract him and if I should make myself scarce, but he made the decision for me. When I greeted him over morning coffee, he told me he was going to work in the great room so he could “concentrate,” then kissed me on the forehead, which was the sweetest thing ever, and disappeared.
I’d had another restless, almost sleepless night, intermittently wandering out into the backyard, staring at the stars, and sleeping alone in the poolhouse. And wondering if I should just go crawl into bed with him in the studio.
After we’d had sex, we lay on the couch a long while, entangled, before finally dragging ourselves up. We’d kissed and made out for what had to be an hour, trying to say goodnight, then went off to our own beds.
I would’ve rather slept next to him, but he didn’t invite me to. And I was wary of pushing things too far and having it blow up in my face. I’d already told him I wanted to suck him off and told him to come inside me. And after that explosive orgasm I’d had when he fucked me—and held me down by the throat—it was probably pretty clear, even to someone who was a little rusty in the relationship department, that I liked him.
I mean, I even told him I liked him.
And speaking of relationships… what was that thing about having sex with some woman in the last year? And getting tested?
Did he have a girlfriend his sister didn’t know about? Someone who visited him here? I was dying to know more, but he hadn’t offered anything more on the subject.
So I didn’t ask.
I figured I’d respect his space and follow his cues on that, for now.
He spent the whole morning wandering around in the great room with an acoustic guitar strapped on, playing idly. Maybe he was writing a song. I could hear the quiet strumming and picking drift into the control room, like he was lost in his head more than really paying attention to what he was playing.
Around eleven, I finally closed my laptop and headed out there to talk to him.
Lovely Madness: A Players Rockstar Romance (Players, Book 4) Page 18