Rock With Me

by Kristen Proby

  “I didn’t want the money!” She yells back at him and glares at him from across the table. “I just wanted you and you left and I was pissed!”

  “So you gave away millions of dollars? Money that you needed?”

  “I didn’t need it.” She shakes her head stubbornly.

  “Babe,” Will drops his arm around her shoulders. “Why didn’t you tell me this before?”

  She just shrugs again, and Will’s face twists in pain.

  “Okay, stop guys.” I interrupt and three pairs of eyes, eyes filled with hurt and love, turn to me. “It’s done. You can’t change it.” I take Leo’s hand in mine and stare up at him. “She loves you, and she missed you,” I whisper.

  He clenches his eyes shut and then looks back down at me, his gray eyes full of worry. He releases my hand and wraps that arm around my shoulders and pulls me close to plant that magical mouth on mine, devouring me, and I forget that we’re not alone.

  “That looks like a good idea,” I hear Will whisper, and assume he’s kissing the shit out of Meg.

  Leo pulls back and grazes my bottom lip with his thumb. “Thank you.”

  When we turn back to the table, Will plants a kiss on Meg’s forehead, and her lips are full and swollen from being kissed, her eyes glassy from desire and unshed tears.

  Her gaze finds mine, and she gets a goofy grin on her face.

  “What?” I ask.

  “I’ve never seen Leo kiss anyone before.” Her voice is full of wonder, and her gaze travels between Leo and myself.

  “Never?” I frown up at the man sitting next to me. He glowers at Meg.

  “Nope, he’s always had a strict no-kissing policy.” Her grin widens as he continues to fidget.

  “Shut up,” he whispers.

  “Interesting.”

  “Very,” she agrees. “He always said, no kissing and no oral sex. Used to piss the girls off.”

  “Shut the fuck up, Megan.” Leo’s pissed all over again, and I’m struck dumb as I remember the night on my couch when he kissed me for hours, and held me and kissed me most of the night in my bed.

  The times that he’s gone down on me, like he can’t get enough of me.

  Megan laughs and I swallow hard as Will catches my gaze. He smiles reassuringly and winks, and for a moment, I want to run. This is too much. I’m coming to depend on the affections of a man who never used to kiss women.

  Why me?

  What am I going to do when it’s over?

  And then I feel Leo’s hand on my shoulder, his grip firm and warm and I look up into his soft, sweet eyes and I calm. I lean in and kiss him, pull on his piercing with my teeth and grin.

  “He kisses me all the time,” I tell Meg smugly.

  “Good. It’s about time.”

  “You know, I have secrets I can tell too, brat,” Leo reminds her and Will comes to attention.

  “Spill it.”

  “No!” Meg shakes her head and giggles. “Story time is over.”

  “It’s okay.” Will and Leo share a look. “I’ll get it out of him eventually.”

  “I think that you guys can never spend time together again,” Meg decides. “Say goodbye now, and we’ll go our separate ways.”

  “I don’t think that’s how it works.” I chuckle.

  “Damn.”

  “Come on.” Will stands and pulls Meg out of her chair. “Let’s go in the living room and have dessert.”

  Leo pulls me out of my chair too, but leans in to whisper, “You’re dessert.”

  ***

  I wake with a start, sit upright in bed, and frown when I see that I’m alone. My eyes adjust to the darkness in Leo’s bedroom, but I don’t see him. He brought me here after our dinner at Will and Meg’s, and I was excited to see what he’s done with Meg’s place.

  It’s small, messy and a total bachelor pad, but it suits him.

  Where is he?

  I climb out of bed and pull on his black button-down, buttoning just the middle two buttons, and on a whim, tuck a condom in the breast pocket.

  The house is still. No music.

  Something is wrong.

  I find him in the dark of the living room, rocking quietly in a big recliner. It’s too dark to see his face, but I know he’s awake because the chair is moving rhythmically.

  “Babe?” I ask quietly.

  “Come here,” he whispers.

  I climb into his lap, and his arms close around me tightly, pulling me against him, and he buries his nose in my hair and takes a deep, deep breath.

  “What is it?” I ask.

  “Couldn’t sleep.”

  “I thought I wore you out,” I respond with a smile. When he said earlier that I was dessert and he was going to fuck the hell out of me, he hadn’t been kidding.

  I feel him grin against my hair. “I love making love to you.”

  “Hey,” the wistful tone in his voice worries me. I lean back and take his face in my hands, making him look me in the eye. “Talk to me.”

  He tangles his fingers in my hair and watches them comb through it. His knuckles brush down my cheeks. He’s softly touching me, and he’s quiet for so long I don’t think he’s going to talk at all, when finally he starts to speak, so quietly that if I weren’t just a few inches from his mouth, I wouldn’t be able to hear him.

  “When I met Meg, she was tiny. Underweight. She was all red hair and long limbs. And she was so scared.” He closes his eyes and leans his forehead against mine, remembering the little girl he loved. “I was headed for bad things. Bad people. But then she came to the foster home I was in, and she became mine.”

  He takes a breath, swallows hard, and keeps talking. “She followed me everywhere, and I didn’t mind. If my friends didn’t want her around, they weren’t my friends anymore.”

  “You’re kindred spirits,” I whisper to him and he nods.

  “Yeah, and I knew what it was like to be thrust into foster care at her age. So I claimed her. I taught her how to play guitar. And when I got placed elsewhere, I made sure I always had a job so I could pay for her to have a cell phone.”

  He brushes my hair back from my face as he speaks, his eyes distant, lost in another time.

  “We’ve always looked out for each other. Even when things were really shitty; and they did get really shitty, we had each other.”

  He swallows hard again and swears under his breath, and I feel his muscles tense even further under my hands.

  “And now I learn tonight that she’s been struggling for years and I wasn’t here to take care of her.”

  “Leo, she’s a grown woman. She made her choices for a reason.”

  “Yeah, because I hurt her.” He shakes his head and growls in frustration. “I knew it would hurt her to leave her here, but damn it, she’d just started her career, and chasing this music thing can be unpredictable and brutal. I didn’t want that for her.” He kisses my forehead, as though he just needs the contact, and runs his hands up and down my back. “I made sure she was set to receive that royalty money so that I wouldn’t have to worry about her financial situation.”

  “Meg doesn’t care about the money. She’s all about the people she loves,” I remind him.

  “I know.” He sighs. “I love that girl more than just about anything. It kills me that she was driving an unsafe car.”

  “Sweetie,” I whisper and kiss him softly, needing to comfort him. “She’s okay.”

  His arms tighten around me again and he pulls me into a hug, tucking my face against his neck.

  “And now I have you.” His hands continue to run up and down my back. “Another stubborn woman.”

  He grips my shoulders and pulls me up so he can look me in the eye again. “I know you’re strong and independent and I respect that, but this is who I am, Sam. I take care of what is mine. You’re mine.”

  He waits for me to argue, but I can’t. I feel tears prick my eyes, and I bite my lip.

  “Don’t cry,” he whispers. “Just let me do what I do be

st, baby. Let me take care of you.”

  “It’s hard for me to let people in, Leo.”

  “I’m already in,” he reminds me. “And I’m not going anywhere.”

  Yet.

  His hands wander under the shirt, making my body come alive. He lifts me so I’m straddling his naked lap and unbuttons the shirt, peeling it down my arms to throw it on the floor, but I rescue the condom from the pocket and grin at his raised eyebrow.

  “I’m a planner.”

  “I see.” He pulls the sleeves over my hands and throws it to the floor.

  “That’s better,” he whispers and leans forward to capture a nipple in his lips.

  “God.” I grip his soft brown hair in my fingers and hold on as he wrecks havoc on my body. His hands cup my ass; his lips are all over my breasts and neck.

  Finally, he lifts me, takes care of the condom, and slowly fills me, kissing me gently.

  “You. Are. So. Amazing.” His soft lips brush over mine, back and forth, over and over again as he begins to move inside me. “Rock with me, baby.”

  And we begin to rock in the chair, so the chair is doing all the work, pushing his cock in and out of me, our arms wrap around the other and cling, our faces touching from forehead to nose, and we just lose ourselves in each other until I don’t know where I end and he begins.

  “So close,” he whispers and bites his lower lip, and I feel my own climax approaching, my body tightening, thighs beginning to shake.

  “Me too.”

  “Go over with me,” he demands softly and catches my lips with his as I cry out, my orgasm consuming me. He growls low in his throat and follows me over, panting and clenching his hands on my ass.

  “Not going anywhere,” he whispers.

  Chapter Ten

  ~Leo~

  “You made breakfast?” I ask as I stumble bleary-eyed into my kitchen. Sam is wearing my black shirt again, and damn if she doesn’t look edible in it. Her light blonde hair is pulled into a messy pile on the top of her head, and her face is clean of makeup.

  My dick twitches at the sight of her, and I agree. She’s beautiful.

  “Yeah, I didn’t want to wake you,” she grins happily and piles hash browns and eggs on a plate.

  “I know I didn’t have that stuff in the kitchen,” I mutter and kiss her cheek before I fill a mug with hot coffee. “God, you even made coffee.”

  “I went to the grocery store this morning. You didn’t have much of anything except beer and pizza boxes.”

  “You went to the store looking like that?” I’ll have to kill every man she came across today, on principle alone.

  She rolls her eyes and smirks. “No, jackass, I wore pants.”

  “Gee, that’s reassuring.” I take a sip of my life-affirming coffee and watch her set the table.

  She looks good in my kitchen.

  She looks good anywhere.

  “I hope you like your eggs scrambled,” she mutters and pulls bacon out of the oven. “I don’t know how to make an omelet.”

  “You don’t?”

  “No, I always mess them up.” She shrugs and motions for me to sit.

  “This looks great, thank you.” I lean over and kiss her softly, thoroughly, and then dig in.

  “You’re welcome.” She smiles softly. God, I’d do anything to get her to smile at me like that.

  “What’s up for today?” I ask and shovel potatoes into my mouth. Damn, she’s a good cook.

  “I have to go to yoga. I haven’t worked out much since I got sick.”

  “Okay.”

  “How about you?” She asks and sips some orange juice.

  “I have to make some calls, do a little work.” She fidgets in her chair and she frowns for just a second, but I catch it. “What’s wrong?”

  She looks up, startled. “Nothing.”

  “You frowned.”

  “I did?”

  “You did.”

  She shakes her head and shrugs. “I didn’t do it consciously.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Yeah.” She eats her bacon and licks her lips, and damn if I don’t want to scoop her up and take her back to bed.

  We clean our plates, and I clear the table and load the dishwasher. My eyes constantly move back to the beautiful woman sitting at my table, sipping orange juice.

  “I noticed when I went through your t-shirt drawer that you don’t have the shirt from our last tour,” I mention casually.

  “I don’t. I couldn’t go to the show. We were in Tahiti for Luke and Nat’s wedding.” She scowls then, and sticks her lower lip out in a pout and I can’t help but laugh.

  “It’s just a concert, sunshine.”

  “I literally had a moment when I thought about telling them I couldn’t go to Tahiti so I could go to the show.” She shrugs, her cheeks going pink with embarrassment. I pull her to her feet and lead her to the stairs.

  “Well, that’s just crazy.”

  “I wanted to go.” I look back at her, following me up the stairs, and her eyes are on my ass. “Besides, your drummer is hot.”

  I round on her when we get to the landing. “Excuse me?”

  “The drummer. You know, the guy who sits behind the big round things that make noise?”

  “Yes, I’m aware of what a drummer is.”

  “Well, yours is hot.”

  “You like Eric, do you?”

  “Oh, is that his name?” she asks innocently. Little brat.

  “You know it is,” I respond and pin her against the wall. Her breathing increases, eyes go wide, and fall to my lips, to my piercing.

  It’s funny to me that the lip is what turns her on.

  I drop my lips to hers and kiss her long and slow, thoroughly, press my cock against her belly as I lift her off the floor. She moans and wraps her arms around my neck, sinks her hands in my hair and pulls on my metal with her teeth.

  I lower her back to her feet and turn away toward the bedroom.

  “Hey!” she exclaims.

  “What?” I glance back with a raised brow.

  “What was that for?”

  “For teasing me about my band. You can never meet Eric now. I’ll have to kill him, and he’s too good to replace.”

  She laughs her raspy, throaty laugh, and follows me into the bedroom.

  “So, back to the original subject.”

  “Yeah, back to the kissing.”

  “No, sweetheart, the subject before that.” I laugh. God, she’s funny. I pull a gift bag out of my closet and hand it to her nervously.

  Maybe this is a stupid idea.

  Her eyes light up like it’s Christmas morning at the sight of the red gift bag.

  “For me?” She asks and bounces on the balls of her feet.

  Note to self: she likes presents.

  “I don’t see anyone else here, baby.”

  “Gimme.” She extends her arms, wiggling her fingers, her sweet face all happy and glowing and she looks like a kid.

  I hand her the bag and stuff my hands in the pockets of the jeans I threw on before heading downstairs.

  “Why are you nervous?” She tilts her head to the side, watching me.

  “I’m not.”

  Her eyes narrow as she studies me. “Uh huh. Sure.”

  She knows me too well already.

  “Open it.”

  She tosses the white tissue paper on the floor and pulls the soft white t-shirt out of the bag, snaps it open and stares at the front, her mouth gaping open.

  “It’s a Nash t-shirt,” she whispers, her eyes traveling over the photo of me and the guys on the front.

  “Yeah, you were in Tahiti.” I shrug.

  She immediately strips out of my shirt and pulls the tee over her head, looks down at it and back up at me with a wide smile. “I love it.”

  “Good. I love seeing my name on you,” I whisper.

  She launches herself into my arms and kisses me soundly. “It’s really soft,” she murmurs. “Do you have a sharpie?”
<br />   “Probably, why?”

  “Will you sign it?” She’s bouncing again, like a fan, and it makes me still for just a moment.

  I don’t need a crazy fan-girl as my girlfriend.

  And then I remember; this is Sam. She’s no one’s fan-girl.

  “Why?” I ask again.

  “In case I want to sell it on eBay.” She bats her lashes at me and my stomach loosens. I dig around in my computer bag and pull out a black marker.

  “Where do you want me to sign it, smart ass?”

  “Duh.” She rolls her eyes. She’s so getting spanked. “On my boob!”

  “On your boob!” I pinch the bridge of my nose and laugh.

  “Like you’ve never signed boobs before,” she smirks.

  “Oh, I’ve signed my share.”

  “I figured. So mine shouldn’t shock you.”

  “I love your boobs.” I lean down and kiss her cheek. She has great tits.

  “So sign them.” She steps back and thrusts her breast toward me and my cock immediately strains against my jeans.

  I slowly sign her shirt, right over her breast, my eyes on hers. She bites that plump bottom lip of hers and sucks in a breath, her eyes dilate.

  God, she’ll be the death of me.

  “All done,” I whisper.

  “Thanks,” she whispers back, and then blinks, pulling herself out of the sexy trance. She pulls the shirt over her head, folds it carefully and places it back in the bag and walks over to her clothes.

  “Stop,” I order her.

  She glances at me with surprise. “What?”

  “Come here.”

  She frowns and stands in front of me again.

  “I’m not done.”

  “You signed the shirt.”

  “Yeah,” my eyes follow her curves, her lines, and her nipples pucker under my gaze. “But I’d like to play.”

  “With the Sharpie?”

  I shrug.

  “You want to draw on me?”

  “You are a beautiful blank canvas, sunshine.”

  She blinks at me, mulling the idea over, and then smiles slowly. “Okay but then I want something too.”

  “What would that be?”

  “I want to lick your stars.”

  “You don’t need my permission to do that, you know.” My stomach clenches at the thought. When her little lips and tongue touch my hips I about go out of my mind.

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