“I want your hands on me, Rush,” she said, tracing her tits and hips with her fingertips. “And your cock inside me.” She passed a palm over her pussy and fluttered her lashes. “Please.”
“Done.”
Stepping forward, I swept her hands above her head and walked her backward into the mirrored wall. Lowering my head, I captured her lips, feasting on her mouth, devouring her sigh, and slashing her tongue with mine. She arched her hips against me, wiggling impatiently.
“Patience,” I murmured, breaking the seal between our lips. My hands flexed tighter over hers. “You’ve been teasing me for an hour. It’s all I can do not to loosen those strings and sink my cock right inside you.”
“Do it.” Daring me, she went up on her toes, peppered my stubbled jaw with kisses, and nipped my chin. “Why wait?”
“Because I need to do this first.”
Releasing her hands so I could get mine on her, I ran them through her silky hair, along the smooth skin on her jaw, down the graceful column of her neck until I reached those glorious tits of hers. She arched them fully into my hands as I framed them.
“So pretty,” I said, my voice husky as I stared down at my bounty. The flowery pattern on the thin fabric was tantalizing, revealing just a hint of her dusky nipples beneath. I swept my thumbs across them.
“So good,” she said on a moan.
My cock jumped, in tune to her need.
“Are you wet, baby?” I slid a hand down to her pussy.
“Yes.” She rocked beneath my possessive hold.
“You can be wetter.”
I propped a hand on the mirror for balance as I lowered my head and fastened my lips around her nipples through the lace. The dampened mesh drew tight over peaks that scored my tongue as I lifted them one by one and lapped them.
“Beautiful, babe,” I said, praising her as she writhed in my hold.
“You’re beautiful.” She stared at me, her lids lowered, her mouth parted. Her broken breaths made my cock impossibly harder.
“Guys aren’t.”
“But you are.”
I didn’t argue. I was busy, lapping at her and swirling my tongue. I bit down on her nipple, knowing it would make her breath catch, and it did.
“There’s a condom in my bag.” Moving her hands through my hair, she tangled her fingers in it and tugged impatiently.
“The one in my pocket is closer.”
I pushed off the mirror and released her breast to take it out. She was already unbuckling my belt, but she was too slow. I pushed her hands aside, flicked open the button, and yanked the denim and my boxers down.
“Fine.” Jutting her bottom lip out in a pout, she reached for the strings at her hips.
“Oh no. I’m doing that.”
“Then give me the condom.” She took it, and I worked on the strings while she rolled the rubber on.
Then things got crazy frantic. The sight of her loosened thong sliding down her shapely legs and the feel of her delicate fingers gliding along my length seemed to unleash a beast inside me.
Hooking my foot around her calf, I tripped her. She toppled. I cushioned her fall to the carpet, and then I was on her.
Kicking the scrap of insignificant lace aside, I covered her body with mine. Grabbing her hands, I pinned them above her head with one hand and spread her thighs open to position myself between them with the other.
She was so wet, her thighs were slick with her essence. I wanted to lick my way to the fountain, but there wasn’t time. Not for me. I had to be inside her.
“Please, please, Rush.” She thrashed back and forth in my hold.
“I got you, babe.”
When I entered her, she bucked. Knowing she was going to scream, I covered her lips with mine and swallowed her passionate cries.
My spine burned. My cock stiffened. Driving deep, I roared her name in her mouth, coming just as explosively as she did.
Impossible to stop it. No way to control the fall. I only knew that if I went over the edge, she had to come with me.
Chapter 26
* * *
Jewel
“I’m starved, darlin’,” Rush said when we returned to the condo. “What’s for dinner?”
“Are you serious?” I raised a brow as he spun me in his arms. He made me feel like we were dancing, emotionally and literally.
He swayed me rhythmically by my hips to a tune only he seemed to hear. The two bags of lingerie slid from my fingers to the entryway floor, and my hands landed on his solid chest.
“Well, yeah. Practicality calls.” He leaned back and raked a hooded gaze over me. “You’re sexy.” His grip on my hips tightened as if he was remembering how I’d looked in the lingerie made him lose control. “You’re hot. And you’re the only woman I’ve ever wanted to spend time with after I got off. But do you really not know how to cook?”
“My gran tried to teach me, but she gave up after I nearly set her kitchen on fire.”
“Good to know.” His eyes widened. “Well, practicality’s overrated.”
“Lucky for me.”
“I’m the lucky one.” The teasing lilt disappeared. “Lucky not to have driven past your corner and missed meeting you.”
“Stop.” My eyes burning, I swallowed hard. I’d already contemplated the good fortune of that encounter.
“Stop what? Telling the truth? Stop finding more things to like about you? Stop the timer you’ve insisted on setting from winding down?”
I sniffed, blinking hard. “Stop saying stuff that makes me want to cry.”
“Okay, no more things that make my girl cry.”
“I’m not yours.”
“You are when you’re with me. And my opinion is the one that counts. Shush.” He pressed a finger to my lips. “You have places you insist on drawing lines—well, this one is mine. You are mine while I have you.” His lips lifted. “Nod if you agree.”
I nodded, and he removed his finger. “Do I have your permission to order dinner to be delivered?”
His lips twitched. “Any chance of spontaneous fires with you holding a handful of takeout menus and my cell?”
“Not if you separate me from the matches.”
“Follow me then.” He started for the kitchen. “I’ll show you where the drawer is that’ll keep us both from starving.”
He moved to the fridge, pulling out a beer for himself and a soda for me while I glanced through the menus.
“Pizza okay?” I asked after sorting through our choices.
“Pizza’s great.”
He took a seat at the dining table and pulled a chair out for me. I sat beside him, and he slid me his cell. After I called and ordered a large pizza with the works, he seemed dubious about it being enough for the two of us.
“I really don’t eat that much,” I said.
“Barely eat at all, you mean. That’s not cool, babe. We walked a lot today, and we fucked a lot. Burned a lot of calories.” He hooked my chair leg and turned me to more fully face him. “I dig your curves. Don’t want you to lose ’em because you’re not taking care of yourself.”
“I eat when I’m hungry.”
“You eat when you have food.” He frowned.
“How about you? There’s a lot of liquor in the kitchen, but not a lot of actual food.” I slid my gaze over him. “I like the way you look too, you know. Takes calories, the right type, to have muscles like you do.”
“I hear you.” His eyes narrowed.
“Don’t dish it out if you can’t take it.”
“Message received.”
Changing the subject, I said, “Your boss said something about public intoxication.”
Rush pulled in a deep breath and released it. “Her points were valid. Been spiraling for a while, Jewel. Because of my dad, mainly. But also with Brenda marrying my brother. And one other thing I didn’t see until you pointed it out.”
“And that is?”
“Music’s my place to process. I’ve just been going through
the motions, cranking out songs that don’t mean shit to me. I’m not gonna do that anymore. Not planning to tune out the emotional stuff. I’m gonna try to make sense of it.”
“That’s wise.”
“That’s because of you.”
I shook my head. “But I didn’t do anything.”
“You really listen to the things I say, and are a great sounding board for my thoughts. You might not approve, but you don’t act judgy with me either.”
“I’ve had enough judgment pointed at me to last a lifetime.”
“I bet you have.” He picked up a strand of my hair, wrapping it around his finger with the gothic cross. “I think you’re too hard on yourself. Maybe we both lost our way. I think I wasn’t the only one spiraling. You might’ve forgotten some important things too.”
“Such as?”
“That you matter. That you should just be yourself. That you’re uniquely beautiful.” His expression tightened. “Perfect is an unattainable standard. In fact, it’s fucking boring.”
• • •
“So, is Jack going to be okay?” I asked from within the circle of Rush’s arms.
He stopped strumming his guitar. We were on the lounger together, me between his legs, and the instrument balanced on my lap. I immediately missed the vibrations.
“I’m sorry. Maybe I shouldn’t have asked.” I should have remembered that the band had triggered the tension between us earlier.
“It’s okay, darlin’. You can ask me about the guys. You can ask me anything. All right?”
I swiveled to peer up at him. Sincerity blazed from his eyes. The breeze lifted his hair off his brow, which was a pity, really, because I would have preferred to have sifted through the thick layers myself.
“I hope that might be a reciprocal thing between us.”
I nodded, and he gave me a soft smile that did amazing things for his eyes.
“Jack’s a good guy, but he often overcompensates. He made excuses for his wife that she didn’t deserve. It was only a matter of time before their marriage fell apart.” Rush blew out a breath. “I was waiting her out, letting her dig her own grave. But Ben, well, that’s not his way.”
I had seen that. Ben was shockingly direct. “Are you guys going to be okay? Were you able to work things out?”
“We’re solid. We get mad, and then we get over it. Until the next blowup. But there’s usually a long break before the pattern repeats itself.”
Rush set his guitar to the side on a stand, just like the one he had in every room in the condo. He picked up a pencil and scribbled down several phrases, then flipped the page when he was through and placed the steno pad back on the side table.
“You’re filling that up fast,” I said.
“I’m feeling inspired.”
He picked up the guitar, set his cell to record the chords, and once again I was safe, his warm body behind me and his instrument on my lap. But I felt even warmer than before because of what he’d implied.
“Are you saying that I inspire you to write songs?”
“Haven’t written anything in a long while, baby. Well, besides the shit my boss rejected. I put a damn good tune to paper the first night we were together, and another couple of contenders tonight that I’d like to run by the guys soon.”
When he started strumming, I turned to face the ocean again. It was a perfect end to a practically perfect day.
Listening to him play, I sighed with contentment and watched the large waves. They lifted, turned over, and crashed as they hit the sand, then gurgled as they flattened and withdrew from the shore.
The sunset’s oranges and pinks tinted the water. Far way, the waves appeared tranquil, but near the beach they were agitated. Like me underneath my calm, it seemed as though the waves sensed their impending demise. Reaching up to a sky that was beautiful and bold but that couldn’t catch them, they tumbled back to earth and broke apart as they hit the packed sand. A foamy last breath exhaled at the shore.
My fingers twitched. I needed my brush in my hand, wanting so badly to capture the beauty stretched out in front of us before it dissolved.
With Rush and me too. All of it.
His arms around me. His guitar. Even the sound of his music had color, shape, and texture in my mind.
Guess I’m feeling inspired too.
I snuggled closer, deciding to savor the moment rather than focus on my fears. And then he made the moment even better, sensing my need and offering to fill it.
“We’re going for some paints and canvases for you tomorrow. There’s a shop up the road that has brushes and everything. If I’m going to be creating for pleasure, you should be too.”
Tears welled in my eyes at his intuition and thoughtfulness.
“I can try.” That was all I could manage to choke out with my throat suddenly so tight. “It’s very nice of you to think of it.”
“Nice is you, not me, Jewel. I want you to be happy while you’re here, and comfortable. To have pretty things to wear. Food you like. We should go to the grocery store after the art store. You made a good point about the lack of food in the house.”
“All right.” A warm tear spilled down my cheek and onto his arm before I could swipe it away.
“Are you crying?” He set down his guitar, hooked his finger under my chin, and lifted it, turning my head so he could see my face. “You are. I’m sorry. What did I do?”
“Nothing. Everything.” Wanting to be honest, I gave it to him straight. “It’s been a long time since anyone’s worried about me. I mean, Cam is wonderful. She’s a great friend. But she and I are in survival mode most of the time. It takes two of us to make ends meet.” My lips trembled. “Necessities are prioritized, not comforts. Not paints, and certainly not being happy.”
Rush was quiet so long, I thought maybe he hadn’t heard me.
“You’re very brave, Jewel. Resilient. Tough.” His voice was gravelly, as if his throat was tight too. “But I hope you know you don’t have to be while you’re with me.”
• • •
Rush
The hand-to-mouth life Jewel described so matter-of-factly made me both sad and proud at the same time. That she remained who she was despite all she’d been through was amazing. Her situation made my problems seem minor.
“Let’s go to bed,” I said.
“It’s early.”
“I wasn’t planning on sleeping.”
“Oh yes. Okay.”
“Up, darlin’.” I released her. “As soon as you move, I’ll follow.”
And wasn’t that the story for me with her. We were so in sync already.
I thanked whatever lucky star had steered my car to her curb that night, and wished upon it to show me the way to keep her beyond the week she’d granted me.
Jewel set her feet on the concrete and turned to offer me her hand. I took it readily, not that I needed it to stand, but I wanted her and everything she had to offer. That was what I wanted to show her. Not in a hotel. Not against the wall. Not in a dressing room. In my home. In my bed.
I closed and latched the doors once we were inside. Returning my guitar to the open case on the couch, I closed it, but didn’t bother latching it. Not tonight. I had better things to do with my time.
My hand on the curve of her back, I led her down the hall and turned us into my bedroom. The sheets remained rumpled from the night before. Every visible reminder of her in my space brought me satisfaction.
“Would you like to have the bathroom first?” I asked.
Earlier today, I’d insisted on buying toiletries for her. While we waited for the pizza to arrive, she’d set them out on the bathroom counter. I liked seeing her things next to mine.
“Sure. But why don’t we get ready for bed together?”
“I want to go slow with you tonight, Jewel. Once you start undressing, I don’t seem to have much control.”
“Control’s overrated,” she said, giving me a teasing glance through her lowered lashes.
“Not this time. Wash your face. Shower. Put lotion on, brush your teeth, whatever you normally do to get ready for bed. Then put on that robe from the shop. All right?”
She nodded, padded to the dresser, and withdrew the black silk from the drawer I’d cleared out for her to use. It had seemed to mean something significant to her, just like seeing her things around the condo did for me. She’d certainly gone misty-eyed about it.
Ignoring the burning in my own eyes, I watched her leave the bedroom, cross the hall, and disappear inside the bathroom. When the water came on, I stood in the center of my room, my hands fisted at my sides, trying not to think about her being naked in the shower.
I scanned the room, looking for something to distract me. Her purse on the dresser reminded me of the task I’d given Brad. Quickly, before she returned or I could change my mind, I found her wallet and snapped a quick pic of her driver’s license.
I was seated on the bed, texting the photo to Brad, when she reappeared.
My mind blanked as I took her in—her skin freshly scrubbed and dewy from the shower, her coppery-brown hair wet, the silky robe clinging to her damp curves.
“My turn. I’ll be right back.” I tossed my cell on the bed. Her okay followed me as I left the room.
The humidity from her shower hit me as I unbuttoned my jeans, and the peach scent from her body scrub made my cock hard. I stepped into the stall, took the fastest shower in human history, wrapped a towel around my waist, brushed my teeth, and returned to the bedroom.
“Hey.” She tilted her head, her eyes searching mine for a long moment. Something intense seemed to be working behind hers. “You didn’t shave.”
“No. I was in a hurry.”
“It’s okay. I like the roughness of your stubble against my skin.”
Those softly spoken words were all it took. In a heartbeat, I joined her on the bed. It wouldn’t be until later that I would realize she’d moved my cell to the nightstand.
She twined her arms around my neck, and I wrapped mine around her waist. Staring down at her, I clutched the silk at her hips, drew her closer, and lowered my head.
Kissing her was the dream it always was. Her lips were plush, her tongue as eager as mine, her taste sweet and seductive. I locked down the lust as she whimpered into my mouth and pressed her curves against me.
The Right Man Page 17