Immoral

by Nicole Dykes

  He smiles, his hand sliding over my cheek. “Yeah. I’m definitely ready for more of that.”

  Just as our mouths start to drift toward each other, there’s a loud bang downstairs followed by a shrill voice that makes my dick instantly deflate. “Ryan, get your ass down here.”

  “Why the fuck does your agent have a key?”

  He groans, resting his hands over his eyes. “Fuck. She pretty much controls my life. It seemed like a good idea at the time.”

  I shake my head, my body still on top of his. “It’s not.”

  He lays a quick kiss on my lips before sliding out from under me where he fucking belongs and tugs on a pair of sweats, sweeping his hand through his messy bedhead. “If I don’t go out there, she’s going to come in here.”

  I reluctantly climb out of bed and grab a pair of sweats myself, pulling them on as I grumble. He laughs as he watches me and then grabs a baseball cap, tugging it on over his head.

  I couldn’t give a fuck and follow him to the foyer to face his ballbusting agent. “There you are.” She looks behind Ryan and sees me. “And of course, he’s in tow.” I resist the urge to flip her off, but she’s actually smiling. “There are pictures of you two everywhere.”

  We all walk into Ry’s living room and take our seats—Jenny in a chair on her own and Ry and me on the couch. “Okay? Why are you smiling?” Ryan asks the question I was silently wondering.

  Her dark eyebrows pull together like we’re both stupid. “Because there are pictures of you two all over the place. People are eating this bromance up.”

  Bromance. Pretty sure my eyes just darted out of my head, but Ry just leans back against the couch. “So bromances are a good thing? Me taking a picture with a fan, not so good?”

  She rolls her eyes at him, crossing her thin little arms. “You’re still pissy about that? Come on, Ryan. You know the game by now.”

  I’m pretty sure he’s sick to death of said game, but I manage to keep my mouth shut.

  “Yeah, yeah,” he grumbles, back to being a grumpy motherfucker.

  “Anyway.” She waves her hand in our direction. “Keep this shit up, okay? It’s good. It’s very good. Fans are eating it up.

  Yeah, she’s happy now, but that’s because she has no idea where my tongue was just last night.

  Ry must sense my thoughts because he shoots me a warning look, and I can’t wait to get this bitch out of here so I can help him relax.

  “I booked a show for you two tomorrow.”

  That gets my attention. “A show?”

  She nods. “Yeah. You guys are going on The Tonight Show via video. It’s all set up. You’ll just answer questions about your childhood and how you reconnected. They’ll love it.”

  Ry looks pale, but I’m pissed. “What the fuck? You aren’t my agent.”

  She rolls her eyes at me, and it’s not cute when she does it like when Ry does it. “Oh, please. As if I didn’t contact Waylon. He’s completely on board with this.”

  My mouth pops open in shock, and she again rolls her eyes.

  She turns her attention solely to Ry. “Every appearance ups your popularity. Which, in turn, makes your price tag higher.”

  “You’re fucking lovely.”

  “Eat me.” She glares at me.

  “Not a fucking chance, princess.”

  She’s shooting daggers at me, but Ryan intervenes, sitting forward. “Guys, get along.” He eyes his agent. “We’ll do it.”

  She stands up, her heels clicking on the wooden floor as she walks over, zoning in on me. “Thank fuck you aren’t my problem, but you do increase his price. So, thank you.” She purses her lips, kissing at me condescendingly, and I keep my ass planted on the couch.

  She tells Ry she’ll be in touch before walking out the door, and I turn to him, curious about why the hell he would agree to this. “You really want to do an interview together? Perpetuating this whole ‘bromance’ bullshit?”

  “We’re friends.”

  “Who are fucking,” I deadpan.

  His expression switches from concern, straight to fucking lust as he moves his body closer to mine. “Not quite fucking. Not yet.”

  “Don’t try and distract me, asshole.”

  He grins, and damn if it doesn’t work because him smiling is every fucking thing. “What if people pick up on it?”

  “I’ve done several interviews. So far, so good.”

  “But with me right next to you?” My hand grazes his thigh, and he shudders, so fucking responsive to my touch.

  “Well, you can’t be doing that shit.”

  He straddles my legs, his weight heavy but nice as his hands come up and grasp my hair at the sides. “Ry . . .”

  “What?” he asks, but I’m lost in the sensation of his growing erection grinding against my own.

  “We should shower.” My hands clutch his ass. “Eat.” He grins and nods, resting his forehead against mine. “Maybe eventually talk.”

  His grip tightens in my hair, and I sense his nerves. “Talk about what?”

  I increase my hold on his ass, massaging the firm cheeks in my hand. “Everything.”

  Now he looks worried, and I can’t imagine why. I mean, his ass is literally in my hands at the moment. It’s not like I’m going anywhere or want to. “Everything?” He swallows tightly, and I watch the motion, bringing one hand up to drag a finger over his throat.

  “Yeah. The future. Our careers. All that shit.”

  He’s gone back to my grumpy Ry, climbing off my lap and nodding. “Okay. I guess we should go shower.”

  He doesn’t ask me to join him in his room, and I sit there, unsure about what the fuck just happened. He doesn’t want to talk about the future?

  Am I reading everything wrong?

  I’m fucking crippled by his words earlier. Talk about everything. Everything—as in, Hey this was fun and all, but I think I’m going back to chicks?

  Fuck.

  We’ve avoided each other most of the day, which was fairly easy with it being a big house. Grady spent most of the day out by the pool while I spent mine in the gym, trying to work out my frustration.

  It’s not working.

  I know I need to face him and just get it over with. I find him downstairs in the music room, the sound of the guitar leading me there.

  I freeze in the doorway, knowing the song instantly. It’s a newer one, released a few months ago.

  The words send a tremor through me, leaving me motionless as I listen to the acoustic live version in my basement.

  Are you out there?

  Are you free?

  Or are you trapped like me?

  Can you go about living your life?

  Or are you like I am?

  Stuck in this hellish wonderland . . .

  The lyrics repeat again, but then he looks up and sees me, his fingers and voice halting. “Hey.”

  “Hi,” I say dumbly, still boneless and unmoving. When I heard the song for the first time I was stunned stupid. I listened to it one more time and then never again. I couldn’t face it. I couldn’t let myself hope that it meant so much more than just a hit song.

  That he wrote it about me.

  Finally, I find my voice again. “Are you ready for that talk yet?”

  He puts the guitar down and nods as I approach him on the couch he’s sitting on. “Why the hell are you freaking out about talking?” He looks hurt, and I hate that I avoided him all day.

  “Look, just say it. Okay?” I sit next to him. “Say that this was fun, but you don’t want it to go any further.”

  “What?” His brow wrinkles in confusion. “That’s what you thought I meant by talking about everything?”

  “What else could it be?”

  “Our careers. How the fuck we can do this when we both travel a shitload. How we can make it work.”

  It. Work.

  As in a relationship. I’m fucking frozen yet again. “It?”

  He sighs, frustrated with me and maybe a little
hurt? “It. Us. Whatever the fuck you want to call it.”

  Holy shit, there’s an us.

  “You want there to be an us?”

  He turns to look straight at me and then places his hand on the side of my face, preventing me from looking away. “There was always an us.”

  Holy. Shit. “Grady . . .”

  “What? You don’t want that? If not, tell me now.”

  “Of course, I do. But you’re . . .” He moves his hand over my mouth and shakes his head firmly.

  “We’re way past me being straight, considering your tongue was in my ass last night, and I fucking loved it.”

  I gulp. Actually gulp. Shocked and turned the fuck on. Elated by his words. He removes his hand from my mouth, and I nod. “Okay.”

  “Okay. This isn’t a phase. I have no idea what sexuality I am. and I don’t fucking care. I’m in this. I like what we’ve done, and I want more. But we can’t deny it’ll have an impact on our careers.”

  “You sound more like me than you right now.”

  He grins, leaning back into the couch and relaxing. “Look, you know me. I jump into everything, usually without a thought, but things that matter . . .” His eyes meet mine with so much sincerity in them, I nearly choke on the emotion. “There has only ever been music and you . . . So, those things . . . I put effort into them. I make them work. And I want this to work.”

  “I do too, Grady.” God, I want that more than anything, but I’m terrified to admit just how much.

  If this crashes and burns, I’m pretty sure I’m done.

  “Good. Now, you have a contract negotiation coming up, right?”

  I nod. “Yeah. I’ve been ordered to be good.”

  He gives me a wicked smile and moves closer. “Oh, you’ve been very, very good.”

  I chuckle at that and start to relax. “Jenny will freak the fuck out if we out me.”

  “We won’t. We’re capable of keeping this a secret. The bromance that everyone thinks they want, we can do that. We’ve been friends forever.”

  I stand up, reaching out for his hand. “Let’s go discuss this in my room.”

  He doesn’t argue, just hops up as we head upstairs. When we’re in my bed with our shoes and socks off, he’s the one to start the discussion again. “I’ve watched you play the game. You may be tired as fuck of all the PR bullshit, but you still love playing baseball.”

  I nod, swallowing thickly and knowing he’s right. “I do. I really do.”

  He cups my face in his large hand, his fingers calloused from years of playing the guitar. “Then you can’t let anything else get in the way.”

  “I would for you.” And it’s true. Completely, 100 percent true. I would give up everything to be with him.

  “I won’t let you.” His lips graze mine. “We can be discreet. We can figure it out.”

  “You love the music too. Your career is important. I’ve watched you when you play. I’ve watched you work the crowd. No matter how large or small. You love it.”

  He smiles, and it’s all confidence. “You’ve been to my concerts?”

  I nod, not bothering to lie. “A few over the years. And you fucking love it.”

  He looks like he wants to say something, but quickly changes his mind. “I do. But I want this with you.”

  “What would your label say if you started fucking a guy?”

  He bristles, and I know he hates that part of fame as much as I do. “I doubt they would be okay with it. They pretend to care about all people, but it’s not the truth. My brand is the bad boy who some woman can someday change.”

  I nod, already knowing that. “Yeah. I think that’s really what the baseball world wants to believe about me.”

  “I know it is.” He faces me while we lay on my bed and holds me there. “Okay. No more talking. We do it the Grady Bell way.”

  I laugh, “And what way is that?”

  “We go for it. We do exactly what we want, jumping in headfirst, and we don’t fucking worry. It’ll work out. We’ll be careful in public.”

  “It’s all going to blow up.”

  “Maybe. But for right now, I just want this.” He leans forward and kisses me deeply, pulling a deep groan from me. I’ve missed him all day, and he was right here.

  “I do too. Just one more question,” I say against his lips, and he smiles.

  “What?”

  “Did you write “Hellish Wonderland” about me?”

  He grins smugly. “What do you think?”

  I bite his bottom lip and then suck on it before meeting his eyes. “I think I want you to fuck me.”

  Now it’s his turn to gulp loudly as he nods. “I’d like that.”

  “Good.” I kiss him again, letting my body drift over his.

  I decide taking the Grady Bell route sounds really fucking good right now.

  Holy fuck, I’m nervous. I’ve never been this nervous in my life. We undress, kissing and taking our time, which I’m fucking grateful for, considering the nerves firing in the pit of my stomach. He’s done this before. He’s been with other men and knows what he’s doing.

  Me? I’ve only been with women.

  What if I fuck it all up? What if I hurt him? Or I’m just plain lame?

  “Hey.” His lips brush over mine. “Breathe.”

  “I’m breathing.”

  He cocks an eyebrow, and it’s hard to think with his hard body pressed against mine. “Are you sure about that?”

  “Shut the fuck up.” He grins and reaches next to him, opening a drawer and depositing a bottle of lube and a condom onto the bed next to us.

  “Talk to me.”

  “I’ve never done anal.” He quirks a brow, and I think, for the first time in my life, I’m fucking blushing.

  “Never?”

  I shake my head. “No. And I don’t want to fucking hurt you. Although you’re making it a little easier now.”

  He grins, full of confidence and kisses my lips, spreading assurance through me. “It’s okay, rockstar. I’ve been down this road a couple of times before, and although it’s been a while, I’m fucking ready for you.” He kisses me again, his lips trailing down my neck, and I close my eyes, trying to gain control of my thundering heart and shaky hands.

  “How do we do it?” He laughs, and I growl, “I know how to fucking do it, I just mean like face-to-face or do you roll over?” Christ. I sound like a fucking virgin.

  I guess, in this sense, I am. He shakes his head at me, lying flat on his back. “Prep and lube. And then, however you want me.”

  I settle my naked body on his, relishing the feeling of his warm skin wrapping the hard muscle underneath. When I look down into his eyes, so fucking blue and full of lust and want, I shudder.

  The things he fucking does to me.

  His big hand slides over my heart, and his smile is kind. “You’re trembling for me.”

  I nod and lean down to kiss him. “I only remember shaking from nerves one time before. Right before my first live show. It was nerves, but it was also just plain excitement because I knew it was the start of something great, but this . . .” I kiss him again softly. “This is even better. This is everything.”

  “Jesus,” he breathes, grasping the back of my hair and pulling me to his mouth as he kisses me deeply. His other hand reaches for something, and then I hear a lid popping before his hand moves between us.

  I release his mouth to look down where he’s using one finger to move in and out of his hole, preparing himself for me. “Holy fuck, that’s hot.”

  “Join me?” He holds out the bottle of lube, and I take it, knowing I want to take my time with him. I sit up on my knees, grabbing the condom, opening the foil packet and then sliding it down over my cock before lubing it and my fingers up generously.

  I watch him fuck himself with his fingers before I grab his wrist and remove his hand, easily sliding my finger inside his tight heat.

  “You’re so fucking tight, Ry. I can’t wait to be inside you.”
/>   He throws his head back in the pillows, moving his hips along with my finger. “Another.”

  I oblige, adding another finger and stretching him, my cock screaming to be where my fingers are. But I wasn’t kidding—I don’t want to hurt him. I want to ruin him for all other men. I want him to think about me and me only.

  I crook my finger, seeking out that magical spot he’s found in me many times, and when I hit it, his hips jolt off the bed, and he groans loudly, “Fuck. Yes. Do that again, Grady.”

  I do, but only once because I don’t want him coming yet, not until I’m buried inside him. “Are you ready for me, Bailey?”

  “Jesus. Fuck.” His hips buck with my fingers as he says, “Yes. Yes. Fuck me.”

  I remove my fingers and move back up over his body, the nerves once again kicking in. “I want this more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life.”

  He grabs the back of my neck with one hand and my ass with the other, urging me forward. “Then fucking take it.”

  I move my cock to his entrance, prodding gently at first, making him growl again and kiss me with frustration and fury.

  “You aren’t going to hurt me. But if you do, I’ll fucking love it.”

  “You’re bossy in bed.”

  “Damn straight.” He smiles, biting my bottom lip. “Fuck me like you mean it.”

  I can’t take it anymore. Sliding the head of my cock past the first ring of muscle, I swear stars flash behind my eyes. I’m not even sure whose voice it is that makes a strangled unholy moan, but I think it might be both of us.

  “Yes.”

  “God, you feel fucking amazing.” I inch forward, my forehead resting against his as I push inside. “Fuck, Ry. You’re the tightest fucking thing I’ve ever been inside.”

  I can’t even make out his words as he lifts his legs up, allowing me to sink all the way inside him and even deeper.

  “Holy fuck.”

  He grins. “Fuck me, Bell. Don’t hold back.”

  And I don’t. I thrust inside his tight hole over and over again, savoring every time his ass clenches around me, strangling my cock. “Please tell me you’re close.”