Clash

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Clash Page 16

by Aurora, Belle


  It seemed Connor had one of those too.

  “C’mere,” he instructed, pulling me up to kneel on the comforter. His eyes were on me, watching my discomfort, my unfamiliarity in this situation, and he smiled. “Kiss me.”

  My nipples hardened at the need in his voice.

  I wanted him so badly. My insides were alight. And as I shuffled forward, Connor gently tugged at the hem of my plain white tee. A moment’s pause and then I lifted my arms in silent permission. He raised it up, over my head, leaving me in my white cotton bra. When I went to remove my glasses, he pulled my hand away. His fingertips trailed my jaw and he looked me deep in the eye. “Leave ‘em on.”

  Face flushed with desire, I ran my hands up his chest to grasp his shoulders. I leaned up, reaching for him, and he lowered his lips to mine, giving me the connection I so badly craved. His lips were soft and he took his time, making love to my mouth. When his tongue brushed mine, a soft whine escaped me, and his arms wrapped around me, holding me close.

  The mood intensified until he punished me with his mouth and bruising kisses.

  And I took it all.

  Carefully, Connor guided me down onto my back. His fingers worked quickly and then my jeans were being torn down my legs. Grinning, he flipped me onto my stomach and climbed onto the bed, his harsh gaze landing on my bottom. “Look at this little bubble butt.” He smacked one cheek, causing me to jump. He growled low in his throat. “So fucking hot.”

  His fingers played at the clasp of my bra. “Can I?”

  At my shy nod, he undid the hook and I felt it loosen. Reflexively, I drew my arms tighter into my body.

  This was as naked as I’d ever been in front of a guy.

  Connor hooked his thumbs into the sides of my underwear, slowly pulling my panties down my legs. He gave me ample time to protest.

  I didn’t.

  No. This was as naked as I’d ever been in front of another person. As in, completely nude.

  My heart raced. What if he didn’t like what he saw?

  His hands splayed across my thighs, he slid them higher to gently caress the curve of my cheeks. “I wanna look at you,” he spoke quietly so as to not spook me, which was fair, because at the moment, I felt like a wild animal, skittish and unsure, but wanting to be tamed by Connor and Connor alone.

  The second I turned over, I covered my eyes with my forearm, hiding in plain sight, and my heart began to beat erratically.

  I was too exposed. I didn’t like it.

  Connor didn’t speak for a long while but when he did, it was breathy. “No one’s seen this?”

  I shook my head but refused to uncover my eyes. I was embarrassed because…

  “Baby, you shaved.” His smile could be heard in his tone. His fingertips glanced my bare cleft. “You do that for me?”

  My blush was brutal but I nodded gently.

  His touch never left me. “And no one’s ever touched this?”

  Only me.

  Another shake of the head.

  He sighed deeply, letting out the long exhale slowly, shakily, and his voice seemed closer somehow. “Don’t freak out, okay?” When he touched my knees and moved to separate my legs, I lifted my knees locking my legs together with a snap, and Connor laughed softly. “I can’t make you feel good if you don’t let me in, baby. So—” He tried again, gently parting my knees. “—let me in. Please?”

  He was tempting me. And I knew what he had to offer. The first and last time we did this, I experienced something so raw and pleasurable that I’d scarcely thought of anything else since.

  Gradually, I parted my legs for him and when I lay there, exposed as I’d ever been in my entire life, I heard his sudden intake of breath. It was slight, but in the silence of my room, the sound came out louder than expected. And I squeezed my eyes shut behind my forearm and swallowed past the heavy lump in my throat.

  The moment he touched me, my hips bucked involuntarily.

  “Easy, baby.” He gently ran his thumbs up my folds. “We’ll go slow. Anything doesn’t feel good, you tell me, okay?”

  I couldn’t respond. I was too lost in his touch.

  If I thought I felt exposed before, nothing could prepare me for the utter anxiety of having my flesh parted and being examined by a rock star.

  Connor groaned then his voice came out husky. “Holy shit, baby. I can see it.”

  From under my arm, my brows knitted.

  See what?

  A light fingertip brushed the inside of me and Connor breathed, “You really are a virgin.”

  That short statement rocked me, and not in a good way.

  “Wait.” I removed my arm and craned my head up, frowning at him. “You thought I lied?”

  For a moment, Connor having his hands on me didn’t seem so scary. “I can see you didn’t.”

  My voice was soft. “I wouldn’t lie.”

  At my injured tone, his expression turned earnest. “No, you wouldn’t. Would you?”

  I shook my head.

  I wouldn’t. Not to Connor.

  His grin returned, he looked down at my bared self and chuckled low, looking like he’d won first prize at the fair for his award-winning pig. “Fuck. I am going to enjoy this.”

  Before I could ask what he was going to enjoy, he lowered his face and then sensations I never knew existed struck me. Connor used his mouth in a way I didn’t know was possible and although he was focused on one place, I felt those lips everywhere, all over my body. My skin tingled and sizzled with every stroke of his tongue and playful pull of his lips.

  One long swipe of my folds then his mouth settled over the bundle of nerves that had craved his attention all along. Panting hard, I let out a low moan and twisted my hands in the covers.

  Connor’s lips never left me, not even when one hand came up to my breast and plucked at one taut nipple. The move had me overwhelmed by sensation. A low growl built up in my throat and when my hips jerked, his other hand held me down. His long fingers splayed on my belly, pressing me down into the bed.

  He lifted his head. “How you doing up there?”

  I didn’t bother responding. I simply lifted my head to glare at him and placed my foot to his shoulder in an attempt to push him back down where I needed him most.

  His chuckle filled the room. “Ooh, baby. You’re greedy today.” He lightly nipped my inner thigh. He was thoroughly amused. “I like you greedy.”

  The moment he connected with my clit, my back bowed.

  My stomach clenched. I moaned loudly then panted harshly, “Oh no, no, no.” My first instinct was to shut my legs around Connor’s head.

  “Yes,” was all Connor laughed as he held my thighs open, pressing deeper into me. His gentle suckling intensified just the right amount and, for some unknown reason, I fought against my orgasm.

  I guess I just didn’t want it to end.

  I mean, really, who could blame me?

  After all, Connor Clash was doing obscene things to me. Obscene but hot.

  Suddenly, my core tightened and the creeping sensation began. It started from my knees, climbing its way up my thighs, and then it was there. The waves took me away. The base of my stomach tightened and then I was falling.

  My hands tightened around the covers and I choked through a moan.

  Oh, God.

  Wave after wave of ecstasy crashed down on me, again and again, until I was spent. My body finally relaxed and I let out a happy little sigh.

  A long while passed before I found my voice and when I did, it was husky. “I didn’t think it could get better from last time.”

  Connor came to lie by my side and he chuckled at my sleep-glazed expression. “Emmy, there are so many levels of orgasms. You have no idea.”

  I blinked at that, unconsciously rubbing my lower stomach. I peered over at him, my glasses sitting on the tip of my nose. “And where would that orgasm rank?”

  He looked down at where my hands play
ed and, feather-soft, his fingertips joined mine, stroking the area just below my bellybutton. “I don’t know.” He seemed to think about it. “Maybe a level two?”

  My eyes widened. Oh, wow. I paused. “Does that mean…?”

  I didn’t want to assume but Connor set me at ease. “Baby,” he started, then sighed contentedly. “We’ve barely scratched the surface.”

  In my uber-relaxed state, I peeked up at him. “So, we’re doing this again?”

  “I want to.” His eyes met mine and held them fast. “Do you want to?”

  I nodded instantly and his soft laughter filled the room. I couldn’t help but smile. And then he stood, tucking his thick erection back into his jeans.

  Where was he going?

  “But you…” My frown was as small as my voice. “You didn’t finish.”

  “You have no idea what I got out of that.” He shrugged into his tee then breathed deeply, letting it out slowly, grinning like the cat that got the cream. “And it was so much better than jizzing into the sheets.”

  Okay.

  I didn’t really understand what he meant but he looked pleased, so there was that.

  Without bending down, he slipped into his shoes. As he did, his eyes roamed my naked, sated body. A slow smile spread at his lips. “God, I want to fuck you, teeny thing.”

  The bold words made my nipples bead.

  Connor noticed. His smile widened. “But not today.” He put a knee to the bed and towered over me. “Kiss me before I go.”

  My stomach clenched but I did as I was told.

  When he pulled away from me, I licked my lips and made an odd face.

  “That’s what you taste like.” Connor’s eyes smiled as mine widened in surprise. He smirked. “Fucking delicious.”

  His constant praise was making me uncomfortable. I covered my eyes and peeked up at him through the small gap in between my fingers. Unfortunately, he’d seen my smile and pinched my toe, making me squeak.

  This, all of this, was driving me crazy! Why didn’t this feel awkward?

  When he lifted his hand, we high-fived, and I laughed as he moved to leave my room.

  “See you tomorrow?” I asked, pulling the covers up over my body as he moved to open the door.

  He paused. “Baby.” He shook his head slowly, a tiny smile pulling at his lips. “Dumb question.”

  When the door closed behind him, I threw off my glasses and sighed into my pillow, smiling like a loon.

  That sounded promising to me.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Somebody To Love.

  Connor

  We were halfway to Magdalena, New Mexico, when all at once, every single phone in the car chimed.

  I pulled out my cell and clicked on the message. It was a group chat from Emmy that included each band member. An instant smile took me by surprise. Goddamn it. She was something else.

  The moment the message opened, the file she attached started to play, and when I heard it, I chuckled to myself. In every seat of the car, at different times, the same file played as each other guys opened the message and when they heard it, they all snickered.

  “Can anybody find me,” Queen sang, “somebody to love.”

  The message underneath had me tipping my head back and laughing out loud.

  Emmy: One assistant looking for a band to love.

  Emmy: Pros: Quiet.

  Emmy: Cons: Abandonment issues.

  The entire car broke out in raucous laughter.

  Noah spoke through a chuckle. “You think we should’ve just brought her along?” His laughter faded. “I feel bad.”

  Hell made a sound in his throat. “I love Emmy, but—” He sounded hesitant about what he was about to say. “—she needs to learn to live without us.”

  A moment of silence.

  Then Lee asked a solemn, “Has anyone spoken to her about what’s happening after the tour?”

  My own smile faded. “No. We’ll tell her when we get home.” Suddenly, I didn’t feel right. “Don’t ruin it for her. She’s having fun, man.” Probably for the first time in her life.

  “Somebody to Love” continued to play in the background.

  Noah looked at me before turning back to the road. I narrowed my eyes at him. “What?”

  He shrugged a moment before saying, “Don’t tell me you’re actually going to miss her.” He peered at me once again. “I thought she was a pain in your ass.”

  “She is,” I admitted freely. I also reluctantly added, “But I like her.”

  Nobody knew about our late-night visits. As far as the guys were concerned, every time I disappeared, I was out hooking up, fucking fans. And I was okay with that assumption.

  Emmy was my friend. She put up with me when nobody else wanted to. I had issues. I knew I was too intense for some people. This was one of the reasons I avoided her in the beginning. She looked frail and frightened of the big, bad world, and I had no business hanging around her, bringing her down. But she grew on me, like a fungus. And after six weeks on tour, I came to realize that Emmy wasn’t as weak as I assumed she was. In fact, she was stronger than I gave her credit for.

  Every time she took a punch, she got back on her feet.

  She was honest to a fault and that was so rare a find it made her special.

  Emmy was brave and selfless, and I now knew that no matter what I first thought of her, she didn’t need us.

  We needed her. Desperately.

  Some of us more than others. This was also why I needed to be careful with her.

  When women who were once sweet turn bitter, a man like me was usually the cause. See, most females were gullible, naïve, and I liked to help them understand that trusting a guy like me was always a bad idea.

  I was a lesson, an example. I couldn’t change who I was.

  But Emmy… she made me want to change. And that scared the fucking shit out of me.

  My mood turned sour. I didn’t want to think about what would happen when we got home. It was pointless to stress about it.

  So, I would live in the now, in a good place. A place where I got to hang out with my friends on the daily and watch a frightened little girl grow into an independent woman.

  My smile returned but only mildly.

  Helping Emmy grow was definitely something I could help with. And something told me I’d get more out of it than she.

  It was soundcheck time in Seattle and while I fucked around with my guitar, I subtly watched Emmy sit at the gigantic drum kit while Hell handed her his sticks.

  I wasn’t allowed to touch his sticks.

  No one was allowed to touch his sticks.

  But there he was, the massive Viking, handing her his most prized possessions, because it was Emmy. And I got that. She gave so much of herself to us that it was hard to not return the notion.

  Believe me, I wanted to be unaffected. And I tried. But I failed.

  Emmy sat on the drum throne and her toes barely touched the ground. Dressed in skinny blue jeans ripped at the knees, and navy-blue low-rider Chucks, she also wore a black Left Turn tee. Her dark hair was pulled up into a high but messy ponytail and, as always, her thick-framed glasses sat low on her nose. Those big blue eyes beamed in on Hell, she held the too-large sticks in her hands and listened intently to his instruction.

  “Okay, so,” Hell stated, “all you’re gonna do is hold the sticks like this.” He moved to stand behind her and showed her where to place them. “And give the drums a light tap.”

  Emmy’s nose bunched. She pushed her glasses up and said, “That’s it?”

  Hell nodded. “That’s it.” He went to stand in front of his kit. “Go for it.”

  Emmy threw both sticks down at the same time. While one hit its mark, the other hit the rim and bounced out of her hand. Her face bunched, and as she bent down to pick up the fallen stick, she knocked her temple on the side of the drum. “Ow,” she groaned, rubbing her head. She squinted through th
e pain, and muttered, “I didn’t realize playing the drums was so dangerous.”

  And Hell just stood there, looking down at her with a solemn face. “How…?” Placing his hands to his lips, he waited a moment before he spoke. “How did you fuck that up?”

  Emmy’s lips pouted and she sounded just as confused as he was. “I don’t know.”

  While I pretended to tune my guitar, I laughed through my nose.

  Jesus Christ, she was the cutest thing I’d ever seen.

  An uneasy feeling went through me.

  I just wish I had more time with her.

  “So, what are we thinking for dinner tonight?” asked Emmy as she plodded barefoot around the kitchen. “I hear Caribbean cuisine is a specialty up here.”

  It was our last day in Seattle and, unfortunately, we didn’t have a show. This meant promo and I fucking hated doing promo. I understood it was necessary but it was tedious and boring, and when you put the two of those together, for me, it was hell on earth.

  Noah bit into an apple. “I don’t know. Do we want to be eating spicy food tonight? We’re on the bus tomorrow.”

  Emmy made a face. “Good point.” When nobody answered her, she sighed. “C’mon, guys. Give me something. Anything.”

  “Hey, Emmy.” I grinned, strumming my guitar on the sofa. When her eyes met mine and she blinked at me, all innocence, I uttered my daily query, “Wanna fuck?”

  Her lips thinned. “No, I don’t.” She sounded ready to lose her shit. “I want to know what you want for dinner!”

  I puffed out a breath through my lips. “You’re looking like a snack today, baby.” I threw her a slow wink. “What if I just eat you?”

  When her face crumpled and she mock cried then let out a pained, “Connor,” I inwardly chuckled.

  Making Emmy mad was fast becoming my favorite pastime. I loved to torment her. And I know she secretly loved it too.

  The way her sweet face flushed with anger, those permanently puckered lips pouting furiously… holy hell. She was a walking boner magnet and the thing I loved most about it was, she didn’t even know it.

  Lee walked past Emmy, reaching out to pinch her hip. “Why don’t you choose for once, kid?”

 

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