With Me in Seattle Bundle One

by Kristen Proby

  “I’ll never get tired of the way you look at me,” I growl.

  “I think I’m warming up,” she replies and raises her gaze to mine.

  “You’re overdressed.” I cross to her and pull her to her feet than begin to slowly strip her, kissing her cool skin as I uncover it. “You have such beautiful skin,” I whisper, dragging my nose from her shoulder to the underside of her ear, in that spot I know makes her insane.

  “Thank you,” she whispers.

  When she’s naked, except for the diamond on her finger, I lift her and lower her into the water, then step in behind her and pull her back to lean against my chest.

  “Is it too hot?” I ask in her ear, loving the way her body shivers at the feel of my lips against her skin.

  “It feels good,” she replies with a sigh. “This whole day has been spectacular.”

  “I’m glad, sweetheart.”

  “What did you promise my boss for giving me the time off?”

  I still my hands, which were gliding up and down her arms. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Ha! Right. No one gets holiday time off, Will. What did you promise her?”

  “They know you work your ass off, Megan, and when I told her what I had planned she happily rearranged your schedule.”

  “You’re good to me,” she whispers.

  “You deserve everything,” I reply honestly. There is nothing I wouldn’t do for her. “You are everything,” I whisper and kiss her temple. I pick up the soap and a washrag and when it’s good and lathered, I run it up and down her lean body, washing every inch of her.

  “You always have enjoyed water sports,” she remarks with a grin, wiggling against my hard cock.

  “You turn me on, sweetheart. No matter what you’re doing or where we are.”

  I quickly wash myself and when we’re both rinsed, I rise and quickly dry myself, then reach for the towel on the warming rack and pull Meg to her feet and out of the water, then set to work drying her.

  “I can do this,” she reminds me softly.

  “No need to,” I reply absently, loving the sight of the water beaded on her soft skin. “You are stunning.”

  She reaches out and pulls her hands down my chest, over my abs and down to my cock and I narrow my eyes on her face. “Keep touching me like that, and we won’t make it to the bed.”

  She just grins, slides her tongue along her bottom lip, and grips my cock in her fist, stroking it until I feel like I’m going to explode.

  “Enough,” I grown and scoop her into my arms, my mouth claiming hers. I lay her on her back and kneel on floor, her bare pussy splayed out in front of me. The silver ring just above her clit winks at me and I can’t help but lean in and press my lips to it, sending her hips into a frantic dance.

  “Will!”

  “Yes, love.” I lick her, from her anus to her clit and back down again, glorying in her body’s reaction to me.

  It’s the same thing, every fucking time, and it’s like a fist gripping my heart.

  God, I love her so fucking much.

  “Will, I can’t.”

  Her head thrashes back and forth on the bed, her hands fisted in the linens and I grin.

  She always says that.

  “Yes, you can sweetheart.”

  “Will,” she chokes out again as she comes against my face, pushing her pussy against me rhythmically.

  Finally, I climb up her body and slip inside her, seating myself balls-deep, my elbows planted on either side of her head. My cock twitches, but I don’t move. Not yet.

  “This is the best Christmas present ever,” she whispers.

  “Oh sweetheart, you haven’t even seen your present yet,” I whisper back, kissing and nibbling on her neck, her ear.

  “I don’t have your present with me,” she protests. “I didn’t know that I should bring it.”

  “Megan, don’t you realize?” I pull back to look down into her beautiful hazel eyes, my fingers buried in her amazing auburn hair. “You already gave me the best present anyone ever has. You said yes.”

  Tears fill her eyes as I begin to move, slowly, in long measured strokes. She bites her lip and squeezes her eyes shut, the tears falling out of her eyes and down into her temples.

  She clenches her hot pussy around me and I know I’m not going to last long. I rub my pubic bone against her clit, and that sexy as hell piercing, and send her over into another orgasm.

  As she bears down on me, clenching and milking my cock with her muscles, I curse, feeling the heat pool in my low back, my cock stretched so fucking tight my teeth are numb, and cry out her name as I come, pushing into her and finding her hand with mine and twining our fingers.

  Finally, after our breath returns, I pull away and walk into the bathroom to wet a washcloth and clean my girl up.

  “You like taking care of me,” she murmurs with a sigh.

  “I’ll spend the rest of my life making sure you’re taken care of, sweetheart.”

  Her eyes go wide as she watches me. “You always say the sweetest things.”

  “I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it,” I reply. When she’s clean, I toss the washrag in the bathtub and then cross to the tree in the corner of the bedroom, pulling a package wrapped in gold paper with a big red bow out from under it.

  “How did that get there?” she asks with a gleeful smile.

  “I’m a good friend of Santa’s,” I reply with a laugh and set the box on the bed as she sits up, pulling her legs under her, eyeing the box and then me.

  “What is it?”

  “Well, how it works is, you unwrap it to find out.”

  “You’re a smart ass. You know that, right?” She laughs and swats me on the arm, but then leans in and plants a lingering kiss on me, nuzzles my nose and then pulls away, leaving me sporting a semi and a wide grin.

  “You’d better open that before I tackle you to the bed and have my way with you again.”

  “Promises, promises,” she replies and then giggles when I grab her face in my hands and kiss her senseless.

  “Okay, no more playing around.” I clear my throat and pin her in a serious gaze. “This is serious business.”

  “Okay,” she agrees with a nod, but can’t keep the smirk off her lips. She begins to carefully pull the tape, not wanting to tear the actual paper.

  “You’re killing me,” I groan.

  Finally, she tosses the paper aside, lifts the lid off the little blue box nestled inside and then gapes at me, her mouth dropped open and eyes wide.

  Holy fuck, I’ve finally stunned her speechless!

  “So, it’s obviously a bracelet,” I begin and pull it out of the box, unclasp it and place it around her small wrist. The silver shines in the glow of the lit tree, and each small hand-picked charm dangles from the chain. “Each charm means something special to you. This,” I brush my finger over a treble cleft, “is of course because of your love of music.” My heart stills as she smiles softly and tears gather in her eyes again. I can’t stand it when she cries. My strong girl hardly ever cries.

  “This one,” I continue, holding a medical symbol on my fingertip, “is for your nursing. And this one,” I smirk, “is for the mustang.” She laughs, brushing her finger over the running horse. “It seemed appropriate.”

  “Totally appropriate,” she agrees. “What is the angel for?”

  “For Nick,” I reply softly. Her head snaps up in surprise at the mention of the young boy’s name. He was her patient, and losing him was horrible on her. “He’s stayed with you, sweetheart, and now you have something to remind you of him too.”

  She wipes at the tears on her face and watches me with all the love in the world.

  “What about this?” she asks.

  “It’s the Chinese symbol for strength. Because you’re the strongest person I’ve ever met in my life.” I rub her bare back soothingly, from the nape of her neck to the two dimples above her ass. “And I know you don’t love football,” I chuckl
e as I point out the silver football, and last charm, on the bracelet. “But I didn’t know what else to put on there for me.”

  “I love football because you love it,” she murmurs and then turns her big, wet eyes up to mine. “I love you so much. I didn’t know I could love anyone the way I love you.”

  “Sweetheart,” I whisper and wrap my arms around her slender shoulders, pulling her against me for a big hug. I bury my lips in her hair and breathe her in. “Merry Christmas my love.”

  Rock With Me

  Book Four in the With Me In Seattle Series

  By

  Kristen Proby

  ROCK WITH ME

  Book Four in the With Me In Seattle Series

  Kristen Proby

  Copyright © 2013 by Kristen Proby

  All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

  The following story contains mature themes, strong language, and sexual situations. It is intended for adult readers.

  Cover Art:

  Photographer: Linus Pettersson of Photo by Linus

  Models: Sulan Von Zoomlander and Katerina Lotus

  Graphic Artist: Renae Porter of Social Butterfly Creative

  Sunshine © 2013 by Kristen Proby and Nicole Brightman, co-writers.

  Dedication:

  This book is for the readers. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart.

  Prologue

  “You know,” Meg announces to the room at large, “you didn’t all need to come help. I don’t have that much stuff. Leo and Will could have handled the big stuff.”

  We are gathered at Will Montgomery’s house, helping him move his girlfriend, Megan, in with him. I’ve grown to love these people. My brother marrying into the Montgomery family might have been the best thing he ever did.

  Damn Luke, for always getting it right. I glance across Will’s impressive living room, trying to decide where one of Meg’s brightly colored paintings should be hung, and eye my brother as he kisses his pretty brunette wife on the cheek. Natalie is the best, and I’m so happy that she’s forgiven me for being a bitch to her when we first met. Not that I’m all that sorry for it. I had my reasons. But Nat is fantastic.

  She’s my best friend.

  “Thanks so much for volunteering me,” Leo, Meg’s brother, mutters. “Why didn’t we hire a company again?”

  I grin to myself and turn my back on the room, focusing on the wall and the artwork in my hands. I’m in a room with Leo Nash. The Leo Nash. He’s only the hottest rock star in the country. And he’s sexy as hell.

  And he’s been watching me all day.

  Will and Leo continue to grumble about doing all the heavy lifting, earning glares from Meg. God, she’s funny.

  And I guarantee not one of us girls is going to complain about watching Leo, Nate and the Montgomery brothers lift heavy objects. Holy hot men.

  “So, Sam…” Leo saunters over to me. I can feel him move up behind me, just a few feet away, and damn, if I can’t smell his musky sweat and the soap from his shower. “What are you doing later?”

  I take a deep breath and keep my face blank. I learned a long time ago to keep my emotions in check.

  “I won’t be doing you,” I mutter and hammer a nail into the wall. As attracted as I am to him, and really, who wouldn’t be, Leo is off-limits. He’s Meg’s brother.

  He’s famous.

  He’s cocky as hell.

  “Uh, I wasn’t offering, honey.”

  I turn to see Leo smiling smugly. “I was wondering if you’d like me to take you to have that stick pulled out of your ass.”

  The girls gasp, and Luke’s eyes go hard as stone.

  Okay, that hurt.

  Don’t touch the stick in my ass, you jerk.

  Before my brother can rip Leo to shreds, and despite his usual sweet demeanor, I have no doubt that he would in a heartbeat, I paste a smile on my face and laugh.

  “Nope, I like the stick right where it is.”

  “Let me know if you change your mind.” Leo grins and shoves his hands in the pockets of the worn jeans that sit low on his hips.

  “You’ll be the first to know.” I turn back to the wall and hang the painting. “But, just so you know”—I turn back to him—“I don’t date famous people.”

  “Neither do I.” He winks and saunters into the kitchen, pulls a beer out of the fridge and takes a sip. His biceps flex under amazing tattoos as he lifts the bottle to his lips. He swallows and smiles over at me, his eyes shining with interest, and for the first time in five years, I regret my no-celebrity rule.

  Damn him.

  Chapter One

  “You okay?” Luke murmurs in my ear as he hugs me before we leave Will’s house.

  “Of course, why wouldn’t I be?” I smirk as I look defiantly into Luke’s happy blue eyes.

  “Leo’s not really an asshole.” He frowns and glances back at the house.

  “He was being funny, Luke. I can take a joke.” I wave him off and sink into my little white Mercedes. “I’ll see you at Mom and Dad’s on Sunday?”

  “Yeah, we’ll see you there.” He waves and joins Nat in their car and drives away. Everyone has left except Leo, who hung back to help Will lift a few more boxes, and I’m relieved to get away from him.

  He’s too good-looking for my comfort level.

  Okay, that’s not it. I pull out of the driveway and toward my downtown condo.

  I see something in Leo that disturbs me. Not in a creepy, what-the-hell-is-he-thinking way, but because he’s so…virile. He pulls me in in a way no one ever has before. It has nothing to do with his band or his money, and everything to do with those gray eyes and that sweet smile.

  He’s got baggage, and he’s probably a bit of a rock-star jerk. I don’t have time to deal with an arrogant attitude.

  I have my own to deal with.

  Suddenly, a couple of miles from Will and Meg’s house, my car jerks and drops in the front.

  Fuck, I have a flat.

  I pull to the side of the road and jump out of the car. It’s started to rain, that thick, cold, biting rain that Seattle is famous for in the winter. Thank God I’m dressed for unpacking, in my jeans and sneakers and a hoodie.

  Not my everyday attire.

  I stand in the rain, my red hoodie over my hair, and stare at the tire. This is the perfect end to the week from hell. I sigh and look up and down the street and then give the tire a quick kick, managing to stub my toe in the process.

  Shit! I hop around in a circle and then scowl at the tire again.

  Fucking tire.

  Well, I could call roadside assistance, but it’s just a flat tire, and I can have it changed before the guy gets here to help.

  I open the tiny trunk of the car and remove the small doughnut spare, jack and lug-nut-removal thingie. I don’t know what the tools are called, but I’m sure as hell thankful that my dad made me learn how to use them.

  Just as I lean the spare against the car and set the jack under the axle, a familiar car pulls up behind me, and I sigh deeply.

  Leo.

  Son of a bitch.

  He unfolds his lean body from his black muscle car and walks to me, black Converse crunching over the gravel, seemingly unfazed by the rain. He’s wearing a leather jacket, open in the front, over his white T-shirt and loose jeans.
He’s covered his head with a black knit beanie.

  “Problem?” he asks with a half smile, that lip piercing catching my eye.

  Why am I attracted to a lip piercing?

  I don’t know, but I am.

  “Just a flat. I’m gonna change it. You don’t have to stay.” I start working on the lug nuts.

  Leo hasn’t moved.

  “You don’t have to stay,” I repeat more firmly and look up into his handsome face.

  “Do you honestly think I’m going to leave you at the side of the road to change out a flat by yourself?” he asks. His eyes have gone colder, and I frown.

  “I have this handled.”

  Instead of stalking back to his car and driving off, he leans his ass on my car, crosses his arms over his chest, and watches me with those stormy eyes the same color as the clouds currently dumping cold water on us.

  “Suit yourself.” I shrug and return to the task at hand. God, the rain is cold, and the wind has picked up now, making my hands throb, and I wish for gloves but refuse to let Leo see my discomfort. The nuts come off smoothly until I get to the last one, which is on too tight.

  I struggle with it, grunting, and fall on my ass with the effort.

  The nut didn’t move.

  “Damn,” I mutter and glare at the tire.

  Strong hands wrap around my upper arms and lift me to my feet. “God, you’re a tiny thing,” he mutters and moves me aside. He squats beside the tire and easily loosens the stubborn nut.

  “I loosened it for you,” I tell him with a stubborn set to my chin.

  “Of course.” He chuckles and pulls the flat tire off the axel. “Are you always this stubborn?”

  I cross my arms over my chest, burying my hands against my ribs to warm them up. “Pretty much.”

  He laughs and shakes his head, his tattooed fingers mounting the new tire and tightening the lug nuts. I can’t look away from his hands, the vivid colors of the ink.

  His body art is gorgeous.