Lie to Me (Rising Star Book 1)

by Lee Piper

  Wow.

  My tongue traces the length of my bottom lip.

  He growls.

  Clothes are shed, sighs are drawn, and soon enough, his hard body is pressed against the soft contours of mine.

  “Fuck, you feel good.”

  I moan. It’s all I can manage.

  Callused fingers trail across my skin, teasing, tempting, sending endless shivers shimmying down my spine. Ducking his head, Reid captures one of my nipples in his mouth. His tongue laps and circles the pebbled peak while he palms the swollen flesh of the other. My back arches off the bed, fingers delving into his tousled hair. His teeth clamp down.

  “Reid.”

  “I’m here, darlin’. I’m right here.”

  His voice is a tonic, so I relax against the mattress. However, Reid swaps his attention to my other breast, making yet another round of tremors run rampant across my flesh. It’s official—I’m one bite away from an orgasm.

  As though sensing how close I am, he shifts his focus elsewhere. Tortuous bastard. Reid slowly makes the sensuous trek south, his lips worshipping every contour on the way.

  When he settles between my parted legs, he inhales. “A man would kill for a taste of this pussy.” The tip of his tongue darts out, savoring me. He groans. “Fuck.”

  “Is this your attempt at sweet talk?”

  His teeth nip the sensitive skin of my inner thigh. I arch off the bed, calling his name.

  “Ain’t nothing sweet about me, darlin’.”

  When I’m lucid enough to register what he said, I tug on his hair. It’s soft, a direct contrast to the front he puts on in public. Forcing his eyes to meet mine, I refuse to break his gaze. “There is everything sweet about you. Very few people are privileged enough to see it, that’s all.”

  Emotions flash across his features like a montage in fast forward. Shaking his head, he returns his attention to my pussy. After spreading my lips wide, Reid flattens his tongue and licks the length of it.

  I throw my head back, relishing the sensation and drowning in the bliss crafted by this man. “Yes. Fuck yes.”

  “You’re so wet.” A finger teases my entrance.

  “For you. Only you.”

  “Damn right.” Another finger joins the first. Then another. They thrust inside.

  “Reid.” If it weren’t for his arm draped across my hips, I would catapult off the bed.

  His tongue teases my clit while his fingers curl, massaging my G-spot. When another finger slips down to my ass, I gasp.

  “Like I said,” he hums, his finger circling the puckered bud, “I’m going to own all of you.”

  His touch is freaking amazing. I push into him, wanting—no, needing—more.

  “So tight. I’m gonna love claiming this ass.”

  I can’t deal. It’s all too much. Is death from arousal a real thing?

  The vibration of his voice against my clit, the way he owns my inner walls, the fact his finger breaches my ass to the first knuckle—

  Detonation.

  White noise fills my ears, my vision darkens, and a wave of sensation peaks.

  “Fuckin’ beautiful.”

  An orgasm rips through me. My body shudders, shakes, and convulses around him. Throughout it all, Reid murmurs against my skin, his sweet words juxtaposing his oh-so-dirty actions.

  I’m almost certain I black out. The fact that I somehow find myself sprawled on top of Reid when I come-to cements this idea.

  Attempting to rise, I look about me. “What the—”

  He smirks. Something in the quirk of his lips and the warmth of his gaze ruins me. A love so acute, so overpowering I’m momentarily winded takes hold of me. There is nothing else for it. I kiss him.

  Deeply.

  He tastes like me. His tongue, his lips, his chin. Reid might think he’s the one claiming ownership here, but what he doesn’t realize is it’s me claiming him. Every last molecule.

  Reckon it’s time to assert my ownership.

  Sitting upright, I straddle his hips and grasp his cock. It’s long, thick, and pulses against my palm. I pump the hard length once, twice, until drops of precum bead on the crown.

  Keeping my gaze fixed on Reid, I draw wet fingers to my mouth, sucking them dry. His cock jumps. Flavor bursts on my tongue, and as I moan, my eyes roll back in my head. There is every chance I could get drunk on this man.

  “Put my cock inside you.”

  Dazed, I stare at him.

  His expression is intense. “I want your pussy to milk every last drop of my cum.”

  Well. That’s one way to get my attention. Grappling for his cock, I place it at my entrance.

  “Now.”

  Slowly, I sink onto his shaft. Christ, he’s big. He fills every possible space inside me, literally and figuratively.

  When I bottom out, we groan. My hands instinctively clutch his shoulders, my virgin skin stark against his colorful tattoos. Reid grips my hips, his fingers firm to the point of bruising. For some reason, that idea makes me obscenely happy.

  “Fuck, darlin’.”

  Leaning forward, I brush my lips against his. “I know. God, I know.”

  His gaze searches mine.

  Cupping his face, I whisper, “You’re mine, Reid Tate. Never forget it.” My kiss is a brand.

  A deep rumble echoes within his chest.

  After sucking his lower lip, I murmur, “I need to move. Hold on.”

  “Ain’t ever letting go.”

  This man.

  Rocking my hips, I set a slow pace. My hair drapes around us, blocking out the rest of the world. I’d be willing to stay in this cocoon forever.

  Time passes, only we’re oblivious. Lips touch, hands caress, and ragged breaths combine.

  Only when our skin is coated in a sheen of sweat and my body is fevered, aflame, desperate for release, do I admit the inevitable. “Reid, I—”

  “Come for me.”

  “No, not without you. I don’t want to fall alone.”

  “Come with me then.” His mouth fuses with mine.

  His demand sends me crashing over the edge. A powerful orgasm rips through me, and with a tortured growl, Reid follows suit. His cock pulses, throbs, shoots his seed deep inside me.

  Silence.

  Breaths.

  Silence.

  Shock.

  Silence.

  Stretching, I wake. My body aches in the most delicious way possible as memories from last night tease my subconscious. Reid’s hands, his words, making love… an indulgent smile tugs on the corner of my mouth.

  Then it hits me.

  “Fuck.” I bolt upright, my movement so sudden, the blanket pools to my waist. I’m not in the mood to care.

  A low, gravelly voice infiltrates my inner freak-out. “What is it?”

  My thighs clench together, my pussy positively trembling with excitement. Man, even in the middle of an internal meltdown, Reid affects me.

  “Darlin’?”

  Glancing over my shoulder, it takes everything I have not to launch myself at the guy. Thanks to my movement, the sheet is low on his hips and exposes his sculptured upper body to ovulation-inducing perfection. One arm is propped behind his head, the other reaching out to clasp my hip. A shiver runs through me at the contact.

  “What’s going on?” His brow is furrowed, genuine concern etched on his features.

  It’s enough to make me want to nestle back in his arms and allow his strong embrace to protect me from the world. But it can’t. Not this time.

  I’m on my own.

  “Finals,” is all I manage to choke out. Pretty sure my vocal chords are trying to kill me. To be fair, lying naked in bed with Reid would be a great way to go.

  I swallow.

  Reid shrugs. “It’ll come together.”

  Pretty sure my eyebrows shimmy off my forehead. “That’s it? That’s all you’ve got to say? What if it doesn’t come together? What if my band doesn’t get the song finished in time? What if we’re forced to go o
n stage with nothing but a half-formed riff?”

  He pulls me down until I’m nestled against his chest. The rhythmic thump of his heartbeat somehow manages to ease the tension from my body. Warm lips kiss my head. “If the song doesn’t come together in time, improvise.”

  I prop my chin on his pec, incredulous. “Improvise?”

  “Yeah.”

  “In front of two and a half thousand people? Not to mention the millions of viewers watching on TV?” Damn it, my body is ramrod-straight again.

  Talented fingers tease the anxiety from my shoulders and back. I sigh.

  “No one knows the song you’re gonna play but you guys. The audience won’t have a clue if it’s improvised or not. Just own it.” His hand skims the length of my spine, coming to rest on the curve of my ass. He squeezes, and I bite back a moan. “You sing best when you don’t overthink shit. When your mind is clear, the words will come.”

  I snuggle closer, wishing his confidence in me was tangible so I could rub it into my skin like a balm.

  We’re quiet for a moment. I check the small clock on my bedside table, figuring we’ve got another forty minutes before Jasper hammers on my door. He’s never been a morning person. Doesn’t matter if there’s an impending apocalypse or the Rising Star finals, there’s no way to separate him from the bed until he’s damn well ready to leave it.

  “Remember when we were at the beach? I played our song on the Djembe and you sang?”

  I nod.

  “We’d never put words to the beat before. You made the whole thing up on the spot, and it was fuckin’ magic. You blew everyone away because you gave us a piece of yourself, your real self. It was so fuckin’ brave. One of the most beautiful sights I’ve ever seen.”

  “One of them?” Hell yeah I’m fishing.

  “Nothing compares to watching you come. Especially when it’s on my face.”

  And now I’m wet again.

  He cups my cheek. “I ain’t gonna lie to you and say everything’s gonna be fine. I ain’t gonna give you empty words that don’t mean shit. I’m gonna give it to you straight.” His eyes pierce my soul. “You can win Rising Star on raw talent alone. Your voice…” He shakes his head, wonderment in his gaze. “It’s like nothing I’ve ever heard before, like no one’s ever heard before. But it’ll only resonate with the audience if you’re in the right headspace.” An index finger taps my temple. “Don’t let the voices in your head get the better of you.”

  I nod, considering his words.

  Reid plays with the ends of my hair. “Why did you enter Rising Star?”

  His question takes me by surprise. I nibble my bottom lip, thinking.

  A thumb brushes the worried skin, pulling it from beneath my teeth. “Well?”

  “Because I had to.”

  He doesn’t look impressed.

  Before he can rip into me about my piss-weak reasoning, I continue. “I don’t mean out of a sense of obligation or anything. I mean, I literally have to sing.”

  Reid’s eyes soften.

  “Ever since I was a kid, I heard the world in melody. There was music in everything, you know?”

  He’s silent, letting me speak.

  “And the only way I could make sense of it was to put lyrics to the sound. Words would swirl in my head to the point where it became so full, I felt like I’d go crazy if I didn’t turn them into a song. Only then could I sit back and understand my thoughts, understand what was happening in my life.” I shrug. “It’s not about the fame, the potential fortune—that’s Jasper’s thing. Between you and me, it’s not even about winning the contract. It’s about having to sing.”

  Reid nods pensively. “I get it.”

  “What about you? Why did you enter the competition?”

  Releasing a loud sigh, he stares at the ceiling. Fuck, he’s gorgeous. The long line of his neck, the chiseled jawline, those full lips. I shake my head.

  “Thought I had my whole life figured out. I’d skate, get selected for the extreme circuit, travel the world with my woman by my side.” My heart tightens as he speaks. “But shit fell apart. I tore my ACL, then tore it again. Was dumped from the national squad.” His voice goes quiet. “Lost my girl.”

  I wrap my arms around him, refusing to let go.

  He clears his throat. “I was so fuckin’ angry. Didn’t matter how much rehab I did on my knee, it was never the same. Didn’t matter how many times I tried to contact you, you never answered.”

  I bury my head against his chest. Reid doesn’t comfort me; he lets me sit with the pain.

  “So when I started drumming, I realized it was one part of my life I could control. I’d spend hours watching online tutorials. I’d experiment with new fills. I’d drum until the blisters on my hands bled and I couldn’t pick up my sticks. It didn’t replace what I lost, but when I played, the beat, the intensity, the rhythm…” He shrugs. “I owned them.”

  “I hope your band wins.”

  His eyes dart to mine at my strange proclamation.

  “Don’t get me wrong, I hope my band wins too. But you deserve this.”

  “So do you.”

  Shaking my head, I look away.

  Reid gathers my hair into a clenched fist, forcing my eyes to him. “I’m serious, darlin’. You fuckin’ deserve to win.”

  I blink. Over and over.

  “Every time you step foot on stage, you face your fear. Every time you look out at the crowd, you stare terror in the eyes. It’s fuckin’ brave.” His lips quirk. “And hot as fuck.”

  My smile is wry. “Nah. You without a shirt on while drumming is hot. Or you without a shirt on in general.”

  His eyes heat up. “Give me your mouth.”

  “No way. Morning breath.”

  “Don’t care. Come here.” Pressure is placed on the back of my neck, pushing me toward him.

  “Your funeral,” I murmur right before our lips touch.

  We lose ourselves in the kiss. It feels like hours, days, but in reality, it’s only moments. It’s not until my stomach rumbles, sounding uncannily similar to the mating call of a grizzly bear, that we break away.

  “Let’s get you fed.”

  I nip his upper lip. “Not hungry.”

  My stomach produces another growl.

  Reid smirks. “Get your sexy body off me so I can feed you, woman.”

  “But—”

  He spanks my ass. I love it. “Now.”

  Grumbling about impossible men, I clamber off the bed and throw on a clean T-shirt and some cut-off denim shorts. I refuse to put on any underwear. Serves him right if he’s hard through breakfast.

  But Reid has an agenda of his own. With a quirked brow, he slides into his jeans commando, leaving the top button undone. Oh, and he doesn’t put on his shirt.

  Yep, he wants me dead.

  “How can I eat with you looking like that?” Yes, my voice is three octaves higher than usual and my arms flap like a penguin desperate to fly. But in my defense, it’s a legitimate question.

  “If I can eat knowing you’re naked beneath that skin-tight T-shirt and those ass-hugging shorts, you can eat with me looking like this.”

  “Sadist.”

  “Temptress.”

  We glare at each other before I roll my eyes and brush past him. My tits skim his bare chest. It’s not an accident.

  The door to Jasper’s room is closed. No noise comes from inside, meaning one of two things: he’s still asleep or he didn’t come home last night. A pang of guilt twists my stomach. Not over answering Reid’s phone call and triggering the chain of events leading to Jasper storming out of the house, but because I haven’t checked with him to see if he’s okay. He may be an ass, but he’s still my brother. I make a mental note to track him down as soon as possible.

  Tobias is where I left him on the couch. Only now he’s pale, doubled over, and cradling his head in his hands.

  “Hey,” I murmur.

  He groans, not looking up.

  “Want me to fix
you something to eat?”

  Another groan, followed by the most pitiful shooing motion I’ve ever seen.

  I glance at Reid. His body is tense and his jaw ticks. Giving him a rueful smile, I take his hand and lead him to the kitchen. Then stop.

  It’s a mess.

  Glass still covers most of the floor, one of the chairs is in pieces, the back door is open, and I’m pretty sure a bird shat on the table. How did I not notice this last night? Oh, that’s right. Reid.

  I shake my head. “Gross.”

  A broad chest presses against my back, the strength from Reid’s body seeping into my tired bones. “You clean up. I’ll make breakfast.”

  Nodding, I retrieve the dustpan and broom and get to work. Concentrating on tidying the mess is difficult on account of the half-naked sex god wielding a spatula, but somehow I manage. By the time I’m done sanitizing the table and turning the broken chair into a nifty Jenga pile in the corner, the most amazing smell wafts through the room.

  Reid puts my plate on the table. “Here.”

  I sit on one of the few remaining pieces of furniture, my eyes glued to the plate. “We had bacon?”

  “Yep.” He sits next to me.

  “Is that French toast? With maple syrup?”

  “Yep.”

  “Holy shit.” I gaze at him in wonder. “Who are you?”

  He smirks, biting off a piece of bacon.

  Just as I’m about dive into salty-sweet deliciousness, Tobias stumbles into the kitchen. His clothes are crinkled, his hair sticks every which way, and there are epic bags under his bloodshot eyes.

  “Shiloh.” His voice is rough. “I’m sorry about…” His gaze fixes on what remains of the chair. “What happened?” Groggily, he searches the room, his expression hardening when he sees Reid. “What are you doing here?”

  The legs of Reid’s chair scrape against the linoleum. “Have we got a problem?”

  Sensing shit is about to get real, I stand and place a soothing hand on Reid’s bicep.

  Tobias stares, first at my fingers then at Reid’s stoic expression. “Why are you here?”