Rockstars, Babies & Happily Ever Afters

by Quinn, Cari

  She wasn’t. She couldn’t.

  “I like you too.”

  Nick’s statement barely intruded into her thoughts. “When we’re together, I don’t have to wonder what’s wrong with Gray. Between us, it’s just sexy and fun,” she continued, wrapping that version of the truth around herself like she’d once had Gray’s arms.

  She wanted to add, right? You think I’m sexy and fun, don’t you? But she didn’t go there. Desperation was never sexy or fun, and she so urgently wanted to be that carefree girl she’d do whatever it took to breathe her into life.

  Who she vehemently did not want to be was the foster child. The person who tore up families right and left. The woman who loved the one person who knew all the sides of her she ached to forget.

  “Gray won’t talk to me anymore. Every time I try to figure things out, he shuts me down. Something’s not right with him, and I don’t know how to fix it.” She rubbed her eye, hard. Trying to erase Gray as she’d seen him that morning, up after another sleepless night, his eyes bloodshot and his skin seeming too small to contain his bones. “He walked away from his life for me. His family. And I’ll never be enough to—” She stopped.

  Foster children weren’t ever enough. That’s why they got passed around more than a year-old fruitcake. Gray was a good person, but even he had to see the light eventually.

  “He’s in love with you. That’s why he’s not right.” Nick brought her hand to his mouth, kissed the tips of her fingers. “You offer a man something he’s always wanted, hold it two inches from his nose, then deny him from having it, he’s gonna get a little crazy, baby.”

  “I haven’t denied him anything,” she whispered. There wasn’t any part of her she would keep from Gray and that scared her more than all the rest. With a word, a look, she would be his. Then he would change his mind once he saw what he’d gotten with her, and she’d be utterly broken. “He’s never asked. He hasn’t ever said one word.”

  Nick didn’t answer. He had to be disgusted with this conversation. She was too.

  A sigh escaped her. She just couldn’t let the subject go. Dogs with their favorite bone were less tenacious than she was when presented with the slim, unbelievable hope that Gray might…want her. “Let’s say you’re right, that he thinks his feelings for me have gone beyond friendship. With everything that’s gone on in our history, with how he’s protected me, how could he ever be sure that it’s real?”

  “I’m sure.”

  Her heart stumbled to a stop. Her fingers went boneless in Nick’s. That wasn’t Gray’s voice coming through the door. It couldn’t be. He had no reason to be there.

  Unless he followed you…

  He’d met her at the salad shop a couple of times. She’d invited him tonight too, but he’d put her off. As usual. What if Gray had taken his work car to the salad shop and discovered she wasn’t there? He would figure she’d go to Nick’s next, especially after that show they’d put on in the isolation booth that afternoon.

  God.

  Then the doorknob turned and Gray walked in, his eyes solely on her. Nick’s fingers tightened around hers before flexing and relaxing. He was going to let her go.

  “I followed you,” Gray said, answering the question she didn’t have balls or breath to ask. “You borrowed my car to come here?”

  Gray shut the door and placed a hand on the wood above his head, standing there so long that her heart leaped into her throat. What would he do? Start a fight with Nick? With her? She wanted to jump up and go to him, just rest her cheek against his back and tell him everything was okay, that she was sorry, even if she wasn’t sure why. They weren’t a couple. He’d never said anything to make her think he wanted more.

  Gray turned and strode to the couch, his gaze colliding with hers. Holding it as he knelt in front of her, his Adam’s apple rising and falling with every breath. So much was shared between them in that single glance that she feared she’d start to hyperventilate. She clenched Nick’s hand, unable to move a muscle. Waiting. Always waiting.

  When Gray finally leaned toward her, her spine locked up in abject panic. She couldn’t do this. She had to.

  His mouth clashed with hers, the softness of his lips in complete opposition to how wildly he kissed her. He didn’t give her a chance to open for him, just forged his way in and seized her tongue, sucking ferociously. The pulse in her throat bolted between her thighs, throbbing there. Making her so hot and wet.

  Her brain whirled, her thoughts colliding and tumbling over themselves. She didn’t understand this. She and Gray were alone every day. If he’d wanted to kiss her before, why wait until now? Why do it in front of Nick, who he hated?

  Understanding whispered through her mind as Gray’s hands dropped to the bottom of her shirt. The reason he was doing this now, this way, obviously wasn’t about her. Or them. He was using her as leverage in his war with Nick. They’d fought over the band, now they were going to each take one of her arms and pull.

  If she had any self-respect, she’d push Gray’s hands away from her shirt and get up and leave. She didn’t. Maybe it made her weak, but if this was the only way she’d get a crack at him, she’d take it. At least part of him would be open to her again, instead of closed as he’d been for so very long.

  And if Nick wasn’t crazy, if Gray really did have feelings for her…perhaps this could even be some kind of beginning for them. Somehow. She’d had to take the chance.

  Gray tugged up her shirt and over her head, breaking her link with Nick. Before she could come to terms with the fact that she sat naked from the waist up in front of two guys—two guys she cared about a lot, in very different ways—Gray was on the move again, his fast fingers flicking over the clasp of her bra. Springing it open, pushing it down her arms.

  Goose bumps rose over her skin despite the heat of the day. She felt so exposed, so uncertain. Did he like what he saw? Did Nick? Being with one guy was nerve-racking enough. Two was almost more than she could bear.

  Gray’s eyes fired, the gray warming from that arctic chill she’d seen way too long. Then he gripped her cheek and yanked her mouth to his, plunging his tongue between her lips with the same speed he did everything else. They kissed until her breath ran out and her limbs shook from her excitement and need. Easing her back, he looked into her eyes, deeply enough to see everything she hid from the world. The desire she saw made her move back from him, toward the other man who’d shifted away.

  Since this twisted, territorial scenario was fueling Gray’s longing, she’d do her part to make him remember it.

  Without letting herself think, she crawled into Nick’s lap and rubbed her hands over his chest, feeling the muscles bunch and ripple under her palms. Testingly, she brushed her breasts against his skin. Looking back at Gray, aching for that reassurance that she wasn’t reading this all wrong, she released a breath at his minute nod.

  Yes, this was what he wanted.

  She wanted it too. After so long of having no one touch her, she craved this. Two pairs of hands on her flesh might finally warm up the solid block of cold deep inside.

  Jazz slipped her hand under the waistband of Nick’s pajama pants and gripped his cock, grateful that he was hard. Really hard. She’d been afraid she’d find him barely aroused. She was no pinup model. Yeah, she had curves, but they were as small as the rest of her. Compared with all the long-legged, summer-tanned-all-year-round blondes in her midst, her pale skin and petite features seemed horribly out of place.

  But judging from Nick’s erection, he didn’t find her lacking. At all. Unless he was turned on by watching her and Gray make out…

  A near-hysterical giggle tried to bubble out of her throat so she shimmied down Nick’s body to distract herself. She pulled out his length, startled a little to see the pearl of wetness at the tip. He really liked what was happening.

  So did Gray.

  Obviously she was the slow one. She took her mind off her worries and focused on how much she wanted to be touched. She was
as tactile as a kitten, and she longed for those strokes even more than she wanted to come. Orgasms were easy. Feeling loved, cherished, wanted—even for an instant—that was precious.

  Gray shifted behind her and she stiffened until his warm, rough palms covered her breasts. She couldn’t suppress a moan. God, this was what she needed. His hands on her. All over her. He licked her shoulder and she pressed back against him, pleading for more. Please touch me. Don’t stop. Ever again.

  Nick ran his thumb between her breasts, sliding upward and easing his finger between her lips. Gray made some noise behind her, approval or disapproval, she didn’t know. She sucked on Nick’s thumb, closing her eyes to try to lose herself in the moment. Gray massaged her breasts harder, increasing the pulsing waves of heat through her core. He switched to stimulating her nipples, plucking them between his long fingers, causing her to arch and moan.

  Nick undid her jeans and shoved them down. “Up,” he growled, the husky urgency in his tone prodding her to her feet.

  She swayed and fought to get off her panties, jeans, socks and boots, her jerky movements faltering as Nick pulled open the drawer of a side table and took out some condoms.

  A lot of condoms.

  Enough to have more sex than she’d had in the whole of her life up to that point.

  Behind her, Gray was getting naked too. Knowing he would be as vulnerable as she was helped steady her hands. It wasn’t the same for guys, of course, but it still helped. She was used to having him at her side, and he would be with her tonight as well.

  Nick kicked off his pajama bottoms, pushing them down his long, athletic legs, and grabbed his cell phone to make a call. To Simon, maybe. They were best friends, she’d gathered. Like she and Gray had been once, though he’d never once called her his. She’d been the one to label everything, to try to make it more real. More hers.

  Foster-kid syndrome reared its head in weird ways.

  She didn’t look at Gray as they waited for Nick to return. When his hands encircled her waist, she leaned back into him, hoping he’d take the hint and bundle her up in his strong, safe arms. He drew her back toward the sofa, pulling her onto his lap with his typical gentleness in her direction. This time, though, his viciously hard cock dug into her butt and back as he parted her slick—God, so slick—thighs and put her on display for Nick while he chatted on the phone. Gray ran his thumbs up the sensitive insides of her legs, lightly skimming her skin, taunting her with what he might do next.

  Gray’s long fingers met up with the piercing that caged her clit and his hand stilled. She sucked in a breath, too scared to move. Oh, God. Would he freak? Would he love it?

  He grabbed her chin with his other hand, making her look at him. “What the hell is that?” he growled against her lips.

  “I just—it’s only—” she began.

  And then he was kissing her, so hungrily that she could only be grateful she hadn’t researched infections until after she’d gone through with the whole piercing deal. He groaned and she groaned back, reduced to that level of communication with him. They’d sunk to their most basic level, and she’d never felt more alive.

  Nick tossed aside his cell and stalked forward, kneeling between her knees and staring up at her with a damn near worshipful expression on his face. Gray’s fingers finally climbed high enough to brush between her legs, his thumb slipping into her with a hesitancy that increased her need. She twisted in his hold, already feeling so hot and flushed. Shivery heat crept over her skin, dampening her with sweat that coaxed out more goose bumps. She couldn’t figure out if she were warm or cold, scared or exhilarated.

  Turning her head, she closed her mouth over Gray’s, desperate to have more of him inside her than just that single invading thumb. He groaned again and pushed his fingers inside her. Using both hands, using two fingers, maybe three. She wasn’t sure. All she knew was they filled her up, almost too much. The stretch and burn increased her inability to sit still and she writhed, trapped by his hand, his mouth, and then, finally, Nick’s lips seizing one of her sore nipples. He gripped the other one, pinching it, and she grabbed Gray’s hard, tensed thighs to center herself in the center of madness.

  Nick joined in the action between her legs, holding his thumb to her clit. Rubbing hard. The unexpected surge of friction overwhelmed her system and she fell, fast and deep. The sharp pinch of Nick’s teeth on her breast only prolonged the bliss.

  She wasn’t fully aware of Gray lifting her, spreading her legs even farther apart. When she realized her ass was in the air, she glanced down and met Nick’s liquid golden brown eyes a second before his tongue pierced her. Still shuddering from her orgasm, she reached back and embedded her fingers in Gray’s short, spiky hair, needing that link with him even as Nick licked into her and fanned the flames once more.

  As soon as Nick slipped his fingers into her, sliding them over oversensitive flesh, she broke again, lurching forward from the force of the aftershocks. In the midst, Gray’s fingers encircled hers, drawing her boneless hand to his erection, helping her pump him up and down with violent strokes. Her shudders increased at his groans, because she knew he wanted to come. On her back.

  Not inside her.

  Nick was already grabbing a condom, his anticipation over fucking her clear. But Gray chose not to. As hot as he’d gotten from all this, he wouldn’t go that far.

  Warm, wet moisture erupted over her side, ending in Gray’s long, unsteady grunt. It didn’t sound like pleasure, but frenzied pain. So sharp and poignant it brought a sting to her eyes.

  She glanced over her shoulder at the boy she’d known, now closer to a man with dark scruff roughening his jaw. His mouth soft and abused, his heavy storm cloud eyes barely slits. Before they could make eye contact, he closed them, leaving her to lift her fingers until they hovered above his beautiful lips, still reddened from their kisses.

  No. He’d made his choice. He hadn’t wanted to be inside her, when she’d never wanted anything more. Even knowing the danger, she hadn’t cared. She was long past the point of sense.

  Unlike him.

  She settled for swiping her fingers through the heated wetness on her skin, bringing it to her mouth. Tasting him that way as a substitute for everything they wouldn’t share.

  Her gaze caught Nick’s. Her contacts were burning her eyes. She wasn’t crying. And when Nick pulled her off Gray’s lap and into his arms, she didn’t wrap herself around him just to keep from falling apart. He was so strong and hot, his body firm under hers. Then he was inside her, and she couldn’t think about all she would never have because she had this.

  Nick. He wanted her, and she wanted him right back.

  He thrust into her again and again, the pumps of his hips deep and powerful, blurring the lines between wrong and right and love and loss. Pleasure claimed her once more, taking over her thoughts. Scattering them. She clung to Nick, riding him for all she was worth. Determined to return even half of what he’d offered her just by plainly revealing his desire.

  Arching up, she gave herself over to the clamoring sensations inside her, throwing aside her torment in favor of the ecstasy she chased. She moaned, lost in the blinding heat. Sounds flew from her lips and with them came the name she’d never meant to say.

  “Gray.”

  If you’d like to know more about this story, check out SEDUCED, Lost in Oblivion #0.5 or visit RockerReads.com for more details!

  Deacon and Harper: Prepped

  A Lost in Oblivion Extra

  This bonus story comes after Rock, Rattle and Roll, Lost in Oblivion #1.5

  Harper McCoy reached up for a storage container from the second shelf. The tips of her fingers slipped across the edge, but she couldn’t quite get her nail under the lip. She boosted herself up, kneeled on the counter and stretched and felt a faint pop. She slapped the front of her shirt, but it was too late, the girls were loose. “Okay, baby. This is not funny. Mommy doesn’t have time for this crap.”

  A wide, warm hand came around he
r waist. “I do love when you talk to our baby in that half exasperated, half loving voice.” He pressed a kiss at the back of her neck and pulled her off the counter.

  She blew a curl out of her face. Freaking prenatal vitamins. Her hair was growing like a weed. Kinda like her boobs. “I’m running out of bras, big guy.”

  He lowered her to the floor and slid his hands up to cup her freed breasts. She hissed out a breath as he plucked at her way too sensitive nipples.

  “I don’t mind going shopping.”

  Harper lifted her shoulder to alleviate the buzz in her ear and the quick reaction of the goose bumps exploding down her neck and shoulder. Damn her husband’s deep bass of a voice. She so didn’t have time for him either. Even as her body vibrated like a tuning fork for his touch.

  Too bad her body hadn’t gotten the message. She had one hundred and fifty dark chocolate tortes to make.

  By tomorrow afternoon.

  And in her current pregnant state, she hated the smell of chocolate. The unfairness of it was epic. Making chocolate anything used to be her favorite thing in the world.

  She tried to wiggle away. “I don’t have time to go shopping. I barely have time to shower these days.”

  “You’re definitely rocking the lemon smell today. Which tells me that you’ve been working way too hard.”

  “Someone lured me away from my ridiculous schedule with a beach and now I have to play catch up.”

  “That was so worth it.” He crowded her into the counter, still teasing her. Always freaking teasing her. He brushed his lips over her ear. “Well, maybe Santa will take care of some of your new wardrobe needs.” His deliciously hot breath fanned across the nape of her neck just before his lips trailed down to her shoulder.

  “Really? Are you going to measure me?”

  He cupped his fingers over the heaviest part of her breasts. His palms slid over the tight tips, then he trailed feather-light fingertips up to her collarbone. On the return trip he teased along the downward slope to her nipples again. Skin tingling and heart racing, she tried to tamp down the urge to push herself into his hand. But, as always, he knew just what she needed. He molded his hands around the aching weight and drew them together. “From my years of anatomy lessons.”