Rockstar Baby: Crescent Cove Book 6

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Rockstar Baby: Crescent Cove Book 6 Page 6

by Quinn, Taryn


  Me? All of the affected. I was going to go out of my damn mind if he didn’t make me come soon.

  No woman should be this wound up. It couldn’t be healthy for this kind of crazy to settle into my bones.

  I lifted my hips to slide him against me. Anything to get some friction going. The ridged maze of veins along his shaft hit me just where I needed him. I pushed closer. “Rory.”

  “Christ, you’re so fucking hot.” He knelt between my thighs, widening my legs so he could drape one over each side.

  I was drowning in pillows. I wanted to see him. I pushed the remaining ones off the bed and got up on my elbows as he slicked his thumb through my folds. I drew in a deep breath and tried to stay in the moment as he found my clit and made maddening circles around it. His hair had fallen forward to tease his eyes. It gave him a younger, softer appearance until I looked a little closer.

  There was nothing soft about the way he watched me. He stroked his cock with the same, slow sure way he touched me. As if he was figuring out a combination between the two of us.

  He clenched his jaw as he tightened his grip on his shaft. I tried to reach for him, but he shook his head. “I’m too close, Ivy. Give me just a moment.”

  “I don’t want you to wait a moment.”

  He groaned and pushed forward, replacing his fingers with the head of his cock.

  “Yes. Yes, inside me.” Just the tip slid past the lace and my own drenched slit.

  “Fuck.” He scrambled back.

  “Rory.”

  He vaulted off the bed to kick off his pants and pull out his wallet. “Sweet Blessed Jesus. I don’t even know if I have anything on me.”

  “Oh.” I pushed my hair out of my eyes. I was so far gone I didn’t even think about protection. God, that was beyond stupid.

  “Please, please.” He tucked his finger along the inside pocket of his wallet and held up a condom like it was a prize.

  Right about now, it was. The best prize ever.

  I crawled over to the edge of the bed. “Hurry.”

  With shaking fingers, he ripped open the packet and rolled it down his length. “Fucking orange.”

  I laughed and dragged him on top of me. “I don’t care what color it is, just that you have one.”

  “Fuck yeah.” He crawled between my thighs and took himself in hand. Our eyes locked as he settled against me and slowly, so slowly, filled me.

  The laughter drifted away. I winced at the fullness at first. It had been a few years since I’d done this. How many times had I just been a means to an end by the time this part came to pass?

  Rory slid his arm under me and tipped my hips up to take me deeper. I gasped at the angle and when he drew out, I gripped his ass to bring him back into me. “So deep.”

  “So good,” he said and covered my mouth.

  I curled around him as he built up the tempo until we were both gasping and driving toward a common goal. Each thrust was more perfect than the last until there was no space between us. Just his hips and mine moving in tandem.

  His fingers tangled into my hair as he twisted me onto my side and came at me from behind. He dragged my knee up and out until the cloying heat between us was now gone and my sweaty skin was shocked by the cool air. My nipples went tight and I bowed back as his mouth skimmed over that place on my neck that only he seemed to know how to find.

  He brought his hand down to where he was sliding in and out of me and gave me just what I needed. One arm was banded around me as the other played me like a song until my thighs were shaking and my throat was hoarse from my screams.

  The low, harsh groan in my ear was followed by my name in a twisted phrase I didn’t understand. It wasn’t English. Just a mumble of words with the sweetest lilt of something more.

  I was too destroyed to hold onto it though. I had to worry about sucking down oxygen as pure pleasure drowned me.

  Rory pulled out of me, then gently tucked me into the sheets before getting up to deal with the condom.

  “Is this what lust drunk is?” Even I could hear how dazed my voice sounded.

  He climbed back into bed behind me, this time with his boxers on. “No drunk I’ve ever been has felt that good.”

  I smiled into the firelight. I liked the sound of that. “Me neither,” I whispered into the quiet.

  He drew little circles on my belly with his fingertips until I was just about ready to drift off. But I had one more thing to say. “If I don’t see you before you leave in the morning, just know I loved every part of this.”

  It might’ve been my imagination, but I thought he murmured, “Me too.”

  Six

  Rolling away from Ivy near sunrise to go to Kellan seemed like cruel and unusual punishment.

  He’d texted me a bit ago, saying the kid seemed better. Loosely interpreted to mean: come now or don’t come at all.

  So, I showered and got dressed and left a note behind for Ivy to enjoy the room while I was working. It still seemed like a dick move, ducking out with a note on the bedside table. But I couldn’t miss this appointment. It was the very reason I’d come this far in the first place.

  Being with Ivy had been fun. More than I’d had in a lifetime. I still had no illusions that she’d be there when I returned.

  One-nighters weren’t meant to extend past daylight. That was best for her—and for me.

  She was a small town girl and I was a big city guy. By choice. By lifestyle. The walls of the town had been closing in on me since I arrived.

  Even if everything looked a lot different with the soft light of morning and a night spent so pleasurably behind me. My muscles were still loose from the hot shower.

  And from Ivy.

  I scraped the snow and icy shite off my windshield with a credit card and my jacket sleeve. I might be in a better mood for obvious reasons, but I was no more enamored of snow.

  Playing with Ivy in it had been entertaining. She was like a candle in the darkness. Snow itself, however, was vile.

  I got behind the wheel and started the engine and the heater. I still needed gas and would take care of that before I set off for Kellan’s.

  Pumping gas when it was nearly subzero bloody well sucked. At least the storm had finally mostly ended.

  Bright side? It was much easier to find Kellan’s cabin in the woods when the road wasn’t fully obscured by a curtain of white. Fancy that.

  I parked at the end of the driveway behind a hulking Jeep and a mini SUV and got out to more snow pelting me in the face, this time from the branches of the tree above me. A peeved-looking squirrel shook the branch again just for spite.

  I tipped my hand to him. “Try getting laid, mate. I’ve found it brightens the mood.”

  Something came flying at me and landed on my sneaker.

  A nut.

  I laughed out loud.

  “Don’t give up faith. I had to wait too. Gotta watch for opportunities.”

  “Who the hell are you talking to?” Kellan’s voice boomed from the little porch behind me. I turned and found him looming in the doorway, massive and broad-shouldered and blue faux-hawked as always. Only difference from his publicity snaps was the baby clad in a snuggly sweater, jeans, and boots in his arms.

  The kid was crying. Surprise.

  “Does that child ever stop squalling?” It was a better question than explaining I’d just been conversing with a squirrel about sex.

  At least the squirrel hadn’t conversed back. That would’ve been problematic.

  “He’s sick. He’s also two. Those things tend to cause babies to cry.” His son picked that moment to cluck Kellan in the chin, who barely flinched. Must be used to such abuse.

  I shook my head, glancing at the squirrel out of the corner of my eye. He had another nut between his paws, ready to launch.

  Next one he threw, I was lobbing it back. I was in a good mood—hell, a great one—but that didn’t mean I’d tolerate rudeness.

  “Are you coming inside, or would you rather debate
the behavior of children from the driveway?”

  Kellan’s even tone made me chuckle. He was such a father. How did that change happen? I had to imagine Kellan had been the typical rockstar, pre-wife and baby. Did a light just go on one day and the appeal of groupies lessened?

  I didn’t have such interactions with the fairer sex because let’s face it, I did not look like Kellan. The guy probably weighed close to two-hundred pounds, most of it muscle. He also had swagger and killer pipes. I was more on the intellectual side of things, which meant my appeal to women waxed and waned depending on my rep. When I had my name on a few hits, the offers came fast and furious. When I was in a dry period, my phone didn’t ring.

  The time or two I’d sat in with my mate Ian’s band, I’d nearly had to hire a goddamn bodyguard to keep the women away. But I didn’t do that often. And even when the access was there, I rarely took advantage.

  I had sex as stress relief. Relationships I barely had at all. The last time I’d been serious with a woman hadn’t ended well.

  Understatement of the century. So, I’d learned to steer clear.

  Mostly.

  God only knows how Ivy had viewed my unpracticed seduction routine. We’d been together, so I supposed I couldn’t have done too badly. She’d had enough grace to forgive me in any case. I was hardly the slick rockstar, even if I had occasion to pick up a guitar and sing now and then. Usually when I’d had a few too many with Ian in the pub.

  And Kellan was staring at me, probably hoping a Bluetooth headset would appear so he could feel more at ease that I had not been talking to the air.

  “Squirrel,” I said as I made my way up the neatly shoveled walk. “I was talking to the squirrel.”

  “Uh…”

  “Never mind.”

  We went inside and the kid stopped crying long enough to knuckle his big blue eyes and stare at me, much as his father had. Did I have a sign on my head or something?

  Noticing Kellan was in his socks, I removed my boots. The kid watched me the whole time, whimpering softly.

  “Why is he looking at me?”

  “Maybe he doesn’t like Irishmen.”

  “Is that so, Mr. McGuire?”

  Kellan grinned. “He’s a baby. Didn’t say he made sense.”

  “Uh-huh. How’s he doing today? Minus the sniffling.”

  Kellan glanced down at his son. “He’s still feverish and he’s doing…that.” He sighed as the baby rubbed his ear against Kellan’s chest. “We think he might have an ear infection. If he’s not better this morning, Maggie will bundle him off to—”

  “Where is my child?” A beautiful blue-eyed brunette woman wearing jeans and a thick pink sweater rushed into the foyer, stopping dead at the sight of me. “Oh, hello. You must be Rory. I’m sorry you got lost and weren’t able to make it last night.”

  I slid a look at Kellan, who was fussing with his suddenly quiet child. “Yes, it was a shame. Maggie, is it? Pleasure to meet you.” I stepped forward and shook her hand. “You have a lovely home.” Not that I’d seen much of it yet, other than the quaint porch with its pair of snow-covered rockers and the small foyer that opened up into a recessed, rustic living room with log walls, exposed beam ceilings, and a large fireplace.

  The fireplace made me think of Ivy. And hope she wasn’t dressed yet.

  So much for a one-nighter, hmm?

  “Thank you, but it’s Kellan’s place. Or it was. I just sort of stumbled upon it.” She smiled in a wide, affable way that made me wonder if she was also a Crescent Cove transplant. “We’ve added on, of course. And I’ve put in my own touches.”

  “Like that thing.” Kellan nodded at a colorful quilt that took up much of one wall near the door.

  Unrepentantly, Maggie flipped him the middle finger. I did a double take.

  Well, then, this was the kind of marriage I could get behind.

  “You bang on your little drum all day and I make quilts.” She tossed her hair and smiled at me again. “Can I get you anything before you get to work? Have you eaten?”

  I hadn’t, but surprisingly, I was more interested in seeing this dynamic at play than I was at filling my belly. I was a student of human interaction. Being a voyeur was helpful in my business, since knowing how people ticked was a cornerstone of writing songs. Not to mention figuring out how to deal with thorny personalities was an asset in my line of work.

  I’d also never seen a marriage work quite like this. In my own home, my parents had rarely argued. Or spoken, period. They didn’t have fire between them—at least not visibly, excepting the three children they’d made—and that was what I’d always sought. Or I had, until Darla.

  I frowned. Since when had I sought anything? I was happily single. Unfettered. Unconcerned.

  Horny as hell, even still.

  Clearly, sex was dangerous to a man’s way of life. Good sex was like mental gasoline. Great sex could burn down a psyche and rebuild it from the ground up.

  Hmm, I’d have to work that into a lyric.

  I smiled at Maggie. “I haven’t, no, but could I trouble you for coffee? Black, please.”

  She smiled back with a nod before deftly snagging her child from Kellan and toting him down the hall.

  Kellan watched her go, shaking his head. “Is it any wonder I knocked her up the night we met? She’s hot as fuck.”

  I lifted my brows. Looked as if I’d be getting an education.

  “You weren’t in baby town, were you? I’ve heard it’s easier there. Probably because there’s nothing to do out here but shovel or screw.”

  Kellan laughed so hard I worried he’d dislodged a vocal cord. “Nope. We were here. Though we get water from Crescent Cove.”

  “Hmm.” I wasn’t going to dwell on that overmuch, seeing as I’d just spent the night with a lovely resident of Crescent Cove myself.

  Next time, perhaps I should suit up in double-walled Latex. Did such a thing exist?

  Of course there wouldn’t be a next time. By the time I got back to town, Ivy would likely be long gone, her light minty scent all that remained on the sheets.

  I smiled. But the memories of my sweet ginger fairy in firelight would always be mine.

  “So, how about a tour? We’re still adding on, as you can see.” He gestured vaguely down the hall to where construction debris littered the doorway between the kitchen and dining room. “But we have another guest room now besides Wolf’s room and we have the studio. All new additions. I built this place just for me.”

  I eyed his muscled biceps, nearly bursting through his T-shirt. “You built it? I’m not surprised.”

  He grunted and led me through the living room to the dining room. The open concept of the place made it seem bigger than it actually was. “I had help.”

  On our way past the kitchen, Maggie offered me a cup of steaming black coffee, nicely offset with a couple of scones. I bit into one as we entered the small studio on the other side of the kitchen and let out a sound that I’d never heard myself make before.

  Unless I recalled last night with Ivy…

  “Bacon and egg scones,” Kellan said knowingly. “It’s basically a breakfast cookie.”

  I’d eaten half the thing before I came up for air to see the studio. It was a nice one, equipped with far more than the usual home setup. A capable mixing board lined one wall. In front of it sat a couple of cushy chairs, strategically placed rugs for acoustics, and a damn near plethora of instruments. The other walls held a few framed gold records.

  “Get those on eBay, did you now?”

  “Smart ass.”

  “Are you planning on returning to your band?” I gestured at the gold records with the second half of my scone, before I ate it as swiftly as I’d consumed the first half. Maggie was a magician.

  “I never left it. Those are my brothers. I’m just branching out while we’re on hiatus.”

  I ran my fingers over the scone. They were the perfect texture for dunking. “Uh-huh.”

  “Before you consid
er trying to steal my wife from me, be advised that’s one of the few things she makes well. Most of her meals come charbroiled—and not on purpose.”

  “I heard that,” Maggie called from the kitchen, making us both laugh. “Remember that when you tell me you want an early bedtime.”

  “Who needs a bed?”

  I would’ve responded in kind if I hadn’t already resumed eating—well, dunking now. Whether they counted as one of her few dishes or not, these scones were a gift from God.

  “Maggie, you’re a goddess behind a stove,” I called.

  Kellan snorted. “He wants more scones.”

  I did not confirm nor deny, but I was quite pleased when Maggie brought in another plate of them after we’d sat at the console.

  “Thank you, love. Much appreciated.”

  “Look at the manners on this one. You could learn a thing or seventeen, Kel.”

  “You adore me for my rough exterior.”

  “You mean despite it.” She flounced out.

  “It’s embarrassing how she fawns over me.” Kellan rummaged through a drawer for a pad and pencil, then set his latest model iPhone on a stand. Lyrics scrolled by on the screen. At least he’d come to play ball.

  Me? I’d come to eat. Obviously.

  “So, this is just a project to keep you busy while you’re away from the band.”

  “No.”

  “Then?”

  I expected sarcasm in return but he dipped back his head. “Guess I want to see who I am outside of the group. If I still have anything worthwhile to say.”

  Sadly, I took a bolstering sip of the rich brew and set aside the remaining scones. Then I took out my phone and found my recording app. “So, let’s see what we have.”

  We put in a couple of hours—with Kellan on his guitar and some lyrics he’d been working on, and me at the board experimenting with different sounds and elements to complement what he’d come up with. We’d finally started getting somewhere when Maggie appeared in the doorway in her coat and scarf with her surprisingly quiet son in her arms. His cheeks were bright red. Unnaturally so.

  “I have to take him to urgent care. He’s so hot, Kel.” The baby leaned his head on his mother’s shoulder. He looked so miserable that even my chest squeezed.

 

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