"I've hated Christmas for a long time," she says.
"Your dad?"
"Yeah. The entire holiday season was an excuse to get trashed." Her voice drops to a whisper. "I always got caught up helping him hide it."
I rub her shoulder until she lets out a sigh of pleasure. "You don't have to take care of anybody this year."
"What about myself?"
"That's my job."
"Is it?"
I push the strap of her tank top off her shoulder. She lets out a low groan, her back arching as her ass presses against me. "Pete..."
Damn, this is going to get derailed fast. Blood rushes to my cock, but I keep my hand on her neck. We need to have this conversation.
"I thought you were worn out."
She sighs with a mix of pleasure and irritation. "You're an insufferable tease."
"You want me to stop?"
"No." She turns to face me. Her blue eyes fix on mine. "Never."
I brush her hair behind her ear. "I'll take care of everything with your family."
"Like telling them to stay in New York?"
"If that's what you want." It's not. As much as her dad and sister hurt her, Jess still loves them, still misses them.
She shakes her head. "Why are we staying in Vegas for all this? The wedding is over. We could go back to our place in Venice Beach and soak in the sun." She sticks her tongue out. "I hate Vegas."
"Of course you do."
"Everything smells like smoke and people drink on the streets." She raises a brow as she makes eye contact. "What about it is good?"
"Shows."
"Which shows?"
"The Thunder from Down Under? Don't you want to see hot Australian guys strip to nothing?"
She laughs. It lights up her bright blue eyes so they shine the way her hair does. It's nearly white-blond now. I was never into the platinum blond thing before, but with Jess's light features, the nearly white hair is angelic.
She is my angel. Last I checked, angels are naked. I should get her naked right away.
She shakes her head. "You're thinking about sex."
I grab her ass and bring her closer, so her crotch presses against my erection. "What gave it away?"
She groans then bites her lip, considering it. Finally, she shakes her head, clearing her throat. "I'll be too chafed for tomorrow."
I chuckle. When we met, she was shy about sex. Now, she's direct, blunt even. "If you're not into Australian guys, we can get tickets for Chippendale's."
"If you'll go with me."
"That a bluff?" She must know I'll do it.
She holds strong, shaking her head. "No..."
It is a bluff. She should know better.
I roll over to grab my cell off the bedside table. "You free tomorrow night?"
"Pete!"
Can't see too well without my glasses or contacts. I have to squint to make out my cell screen. Still, it only takes a minute to get tickets on my phone. "VIP tickets. Best in the house. We can meet the performers after the show."
Her cheeks turn red. She hides behind her palms. "You have no shame."
"True."
"I'd rather you do the striptease."
"Won't last very long. Only wearing these." I bring her hand to the edge of my boxers.
She slides her hand below my waist, cupping my cock over the fabric. Fuck, that feels good. I need her now.
Her voice is heavy, breathy. "I had a point, but it's slipping from my mind."
Me too. But what the fuck was it?
She slides her hand to my thigh. It only draws more blood to my cock. My skin burns from her touch.
I need her hands on my skin. Need my hands on her skin. That makes more sense than anything else. Even playing bass guitar.
She slides her other hand around my neck. Her forehead presses against mine. Her voice is low, sweet. "I wish we could fly to an island in the sun until the tour started. Just the two of us, swimming and sunbathing."
"Nude?"
"Of course." She pulls away enough to look me in the eyes. "We never got to explore Hawaii together."
"Say the word and I'll buy tickets for tomorrow."
She shakes her head. "We're stuck with my family."
"There's a whole week between Christmas and the start of the tour."
She bites her lip, considering it. "You always take care of me."
"Of course."
"What do you get out of that?"
My brow furrows. What kind of question is that?
Does she really doubt my feelings for her?
I try to shrug it off, but my shoulders stay tense. I can deal with a lot of shit, but her doubting my affection is not on the list.
Her blue eyes bore into me. There's no accusation in them. Her expression is earnest.
Okay. Words aren't my strong suit, but I'll answer the best I can. "Makes me feel good. Don't you like taking care of me?"
She nods. "You rarely let me." She drags her fingertips over my chest until they get to my tattoo. "You're stronger than I am."
"It's strength that you can admit things hurt you, that they're hard for you." I slide my hand around her neck, cupping the back of her head. "I was broken before I met you. You stitched my heart back together."
"Really?"
"Yeah."
It's hard to wrap my head around my high school sweetheart and my best friend fucking each other behind my back. Hard to feel like I'm not lacking in some way.
But Jess erases all that. She erases all the fame bullshit. She erases that sense I get on the road—that there's nowhere I belong.
When I'm with her, everything makes sense. I don't doubt myself. I don't give a fuck about our surroundings.
I belong with her, wherever she is.
"I can't remember the last time things felt this normal." I press my lips to hers. She tastes good. And the way she moans into my mouth and squirms against me—that's fucking normal.
When I'm with her, I don't have to put on airs, don't have to have my guard up.
I can finally breathe.
She pulls back with a deep, low sigh. "Having sex in the bathroom at a cactus holiday garden is normal?"
I nod.
She laughs.
I see her point. Maybe we're freaks, but in a great fucking way.
Before Jess, I had resigned myself to only feeling whole when I played. It wasn't the worst thing in the world. I spent half of my waking hours playing music. Spent enough of the rest working out or reading that I stayed busy.
Her eyes meet mine. "You know, for once, you look like you're thinking about something besides sex." She drags her fingertips over my chest. "This is a rare moment."
I laugh. "It is."
"Want to share?"
I run my fingers through her hair. "The last time I felt like this, like I belonged somewhere, was when I stepped on stage for the first time."
Her eyes brighten. "Yeah?"
I nod.
"You're too sweet."
"Should I say something dirty?"
She laughs. "I'll never say no to that."
I bring my mouth to her ear. "You want to come on my hand or my cock?"
She lets out a needy sigh. "Your cock."
Not gonna leave the woman wanting.
***
The weight on the bed shifts. The covers pull to one side. Then there's light streaming through the window.
Fuck, I can barely see anything without my glasses. I never get used to waking up nearly blind.
Jess is sitting on the other side of the bed. She stretches her arms over her head in an adorable yawn.
I move close enough to slide my hand under her tank-top.
She shudders with pleasure. Her voice is a low murmur. "My alarm is going."
There is the faint sound of some Amy Winehouse song. It's far away, not much of an alarm. Could swear she uses something else as her alarm tone, but it's too early for me to put those pieces together.
I try to check t
he clock on the bedside table, but the neon green numbers are a blur. Squinting does nothing to help matters.
"It's eight thirty," she says.
"That's early." I tug at her tank top. "Come back to bed. Want to get an early start on my goals today."
"I'm a goal?" Her voice is incredulous.
"I make you come every day."
"And that's an obligation?"
Not sure if she's teasing or serious. Either way, I need to set the record straight. I push myself up so I can press my lips to her shoulder. "Fuck no. It's a privilege."
She lets out a low moan. She's considering it. She only needs one more nudge to be convinced.
"It's my favorite part of the day." I suck on her skin as I trace the neckline of her tank top.
Her groan is low and deep. She arches her back, pressing her chest into my hands.
She wants me.
No, she needs me.
But the damn phone rings again.
She sighs as she breaks my touch. "I should get that. It might be Ophelia."
"We're not meeting her until ten."
"It might be Dad or Madison. Who else would call this close to Christmas?"
She's got a point. Still, I want her naked on top of me. Still, I want her coming on my hand.
It felt like a part of me was missing this last month. I need to remember what it feels like to be whole.
Jess answers the call with a nervous, "Hello."
I throw her an inquisitive look and grab my glasses so I can study the expression on her face. She's frowning, but when she catches me staring, she waves me away.
I don't like her frowning, but I know better than to pry when she wants space. I make use of the time doing my usual morning routine. When I go back to the main room, she's done with the call.
Her blue eyes are hazy with frustration.
Something is wrong.
Something bad.
She nods hello then her eyes go to the floor. "Excuse me. I should brush my teeth." She pushes past me to step into the bathroom.
What the hell?
She doesn't hide things from me. Not anymore. I'm sure as hell not going to let her deal with this, whatever it is, on her own.
It takes a few minutes for her to step out of the bathroom. She has that same miserable look on her face. I'm going to wipe it off, whatever it takes. The way her shorts hug her hips encourages one method, but I do have other tools in my arsenal.
I rub her shoulders. "What happened, baby?"
Her chest heaves as she takes a deep breath. Her gaze goes to the floor. "I can't believe it."
"What?"
"I lost my scholarship."
Her brows are knit with frustration. She looks like she's going to break. But why? There's an easy solution for this.
"I'll pay your tuition," I say.
She takes a step backward. "No."
What the fuck does she mean, no? We're partners. It's our money.
Jess crosses her arms over her chest. "Don't look at me like that."
"Like what?"
"Like I kicked a puppy. You're not paying my tuition."
"You're right. I'm not paying your tuition. We're paying your tuition."
She presses her lips together. Her blue eyes get intense. "I appreciate how generous you are—"
"This isn't fucking generosity. That money is ours. Everything we have is ours."
She looks down at her engagement ring. "I want to feel self-reliant." Her frustrated expression softens. "It's important to me to feel self-reliant. I know you understand that."
Yeah, I do. But it's important to me to get as much of Jess as I can. If she takes on a part-time job, I'll get less of her. If she's got loans weighing on her mind, I'll get less of her.
Whatever she decides, I'll get less of her.
It's our money.
This is ridiculous.
"If we were married, would you let me pay your tuition?" I ask.
She looks at me carefully, judging my intentions. She rolls her shoulders back. She shifts her weight between her legs. "I suppose I would."
"Then marry me in Vegas. This week. Fuck, we can do it today."
She looks at me like I'm crazy.
"Come on, baby. Marry me here. Marry me now."
Chapter Forty
Pete
Jess's brow furrows. She stares through me. "No."
No? Uh-uh. I'm not accepting that answer.
"I'm not marrying you so you can get your way."
"We're engaged."
"No, Pete." She folds her arms. "I still have my scholarship from the school. I only need to come up with a quarter of my tuition. And I'm coming up with it myself."
"Fuck the tuition. Marry me here."
She blinks. Her face screws with frustration. "What?"
All of a sudden, it's obvious. I don't want to wait any longer for us to start our lives together. Sure, she's mine now. I'm hers now.
But us being husband and wife...
Fuck, that would be amazing.
"Take the fucking money for the tuition. I'll still want to marry you now," I say. "You're what makes sense, Jess. I want to know this is forever."
Her brow softens. "I love you, Pete. But you need to stop pushing me about this."
"It's our money."
"That you earned."
"And when we get married and your law firm makes ten million a year, will that be all your money?"
"No. Of course not..." She looks at the ground. "I... I want to feel self-reliant. It's important to me."
I swallow hard. There's still a lot of frustration on her face. Pushing her won't help either of us.
My fingers curl. Not quite fists but halfway there. I respect that she wants to be self-reliant, I do, but she needs to understand that it's not about getting my way.
I need to help her.
She needs to understand that I want to marry her because I love her.
I plant on the bed and press my palms against my thighs. My hands are itching to play or to get her off—the two things they do well. "I hate seeing anything in the way of your success."
"I'll get a loan. Or a job."
"No."
She folds her arms. Her eyes flare with frustration. "What the fuck do you mean, no?"
Shit. She's pissed. Hard to blame her, but it's not like that.
I meet her gaze. "I can't stand seeing you any less than I do now."
Her expression softens. "That's a sweet reason for being controlling."
"I'm not controlling."
"Would you prefer pushy?"
"Fine." Can't exactly deny that. "But you're being stubborn."
She raises a brow. Her expression shifts so it's half-frustrated, half-playful. "I'm being stubborn?"
I nod.
"It happened two minutes ago. Give me some time to figure it out before you swoop in to save the day."
I pat my lap.
She presses her lips together. "Is that a good idea?"
"Want to hold you right now."
Her eyes light up. There's still a heaviness to her expression. She's still frustrated.
But she does come closer.
She does sit on my lap.
I wrap my arms around her as I look up at her. "If we get married today, we can go on our honeymoon tomorrow. We can have our week on the beach."
Her tongue slides over her lips. "You're very convincing when you want something."
I slide my hand behind her neck. "Baby, I'm not trying to manipulate you. There's a problem. I have a solution. Money isn't good for much beyond comfort and fixing problems."
I lean in to kiss her.
She groans, her lips parting for my tongue, her hands going to my shoulders. When she pulls back, she stares into my eyes.
Her fingertips skim my cheek. "I appreciate that you want to help, but I want to figure this out on my own."
"I still want to marry you, even if you refuse to use our money to pay your tuition."
&n
bsp; "We're engaged. What's the rush?"
She must feel it too. She must feel that ache for more. However much of her I have, I always want more. "I want the world to know you're mine."
Her expression softens. "You've gotten very possessive."
"You like it."
"I admit nothing."
"It's embarrassing begging my fiancée to marry me."
She smiles. Her voice lifts. "You can beg much better than this."
True. My hands go to her hips. One sides around her thigh, between her legs. "This how I should start?"
"Aren't we meeting your mom?"
"In an hour."
She looks down at me. "I don't want to rush our wedding. We're always squeezing things into breaks in our schedules. Not this."
I will convince her. Today. Tomorrow at the latest.
I want to respect her decisions, her independence, but I'm going to take care of her.
I press my palm against her. "You need to come on my hand."
She looks at me a little funny, unsure of my motives.
Uh-uh. Can't take any more uncertainty. Can't take any more space between us.
I slide my fingers into her shorts and rub her over her panties. My lips go to her neck. I kiss my way to her ear then I suck on her earlobe.
She groans. All that frustration on her face melts. The tension in her shoulders melts.
"Take off your clothes, baby. All of them."
"Pete, I..."
"I want to make you come. There's no ulterior motive. You want to come on my hand?"
She bites her lip. "Yes."
"Then take off your fucking clothes. Now."
She holds my gaze for a moment. She's not convinced yet.
I drag my fingertips over her thigh. I press my palm into her lower back and pull her into a deep kiss.
She kisses back. Softly at first. Then harder. Then her tongue is in my mouth. Her hands are digging into my shoulders.
She groans as she pulls her tank top over her head and pushes her shorts over her wide hips.
God damn, I love those hips. I love the way they feel against mine. I love the way they feel in my hands.
I help her push her shorts to her feet. Then they're gone.
She wraps her arms around my shoulders as she straddles me.
She's in my lap wearing nothing but her glasses.
This is exactly where we both need to be. Why can't she see how much I can help?
If we get married today, we can do nothing but this for the next week and a half.
Sinful Ever After (Sinful Serenade #5) Page 25
