Untwisted

by Cari Quinn

  She undid her pigtails and let her hair hide her probably blotchy face. Whew. Talk about close.

  “What are you doing? You’ve been gone forever.” Once he finally reached her, he glanced down at the bakery section and chuckled. “Should’ve known you’d wander this—hey, look at me.” He brushed her hair back and tipped up her chin. “Are you sick again? Why are you crying?”

  One look into his concerned gray eyes and she was done for. The tears started, worse than before. “I just really, really want apple pie,” she whispered, hurling herself into his arms.

  “Hey, what’s the matter? You can have pie. Here. Have a whole bunch of pies.” Wrapping one arm around her waist, he guided her back to the display and pushed about six of them into her arms. “You probably shouldn’t have them all at once, but one a day should be okay.”

  Tears streamed down as she stared at the plastic-wrapped pies. “People thought I was nuts for loving you. That you were messed up and wouldn’t ever go back to being my Gray. But you always were. They didn’t understand.”

  “You gave me no choice but to get better. You wouldn’t allow me not to.” He chuckled and kissed the top of her head. “We better get back to the car. Molly might drive off if we don’t get moving.”

  “No one else but you would bring her with us.” She tipped up her face, needing to see him even through the blur of her tears. “She treated us like total crap when we got there and you just wanted to make sure I was happy. You always want that, no matter what.”

  “Yeah, I do.” He cleared his throat. “And sometimes I make choices that might not seem like they’re the best, but I’d do anything for you—”

  She leaned up to silence him with a kiss. “I know.”

  He probably thought she might be annoyed once she found out about the wedding, because most women wanted to have a say in planning their ceremony. Not her. This was perfect. She didn’t care one whit about the shindig itself. She just wanted that shiny band on her finger and for him to be hers. The rest was just details.

  “Come on. Let’s go pay.” He took half her apple pies and she started to tell him to put them back, that she really didn’t want them.

  Then again, who knew where they were spending the night? Maybe room service would suck. And she did like apple pie.

  Shrugging, she followed him up to the checkout. She was getting married tomorrow. She deserved extra freaking dessert.

  ***

  A roadtrip with his surprisingly cheerful fiancée and snarky sister-in-law hadn’t been in the cards two days ago, but it had turned out pretty well.

  At least until he learned that the hotel did not have any other open rooms, no matter how much he cajoled or offered money he did not want to spend on things other than oh, mortgage payments, food and child-related costs.

  “Sir, I’m very sorry. We’re at full occupancy due to several events in town this weekend.” The woman behind the desk consulted the ledger in front of her while Molly sighed loudly and Jazz looked around in dazed wonder.

  He didn’t blame her. The place was seriously lush. Chandeliers dripped glittering crystals and miles of gleaming marble floor stretched as far as the eye could see. Women glided past in pastel dresses that probably cost more than some people made in a year. Even the elevators were bronze, for God’s sake.

  “You don’t have any other options for me?” Taking advantage of Jazz’s distraction, he leaned across the desk and lowered his voice. “Look, I booked the penthouse suite so we could, you know, have privacy. Hard to do that with a sixteen-year-old two feet away, snapping her gum.”

  “Seventeen in two days,” Molly informed the hotel employee. “Thank you very much.”

  “I do have one option for you. We can bring in a cot for the living area. There is a door that locks between the two areas.” The woman glanced up and smiled brightly as if she’d just offered him a million dollars. “That should help, no?”

  He nearly said “no” but thought better of it. What other alternatives were there? He couldn’t let her sleep in the car. Well, he could, though he doubted Jazz would go for it.

  “Fine.”

  “Oh yay. I get to listen to you two screw like minxes all night.” Molly rolled her eyes and stalked off to the nearest elevator.

  “It’s screw like bunnies,” Jazz called after her, to which Molly lifted the middle finger, drawing more than a few surprised looks.

  Jazz laughed. “She definitely has my temper.”

  Gray shook his head. While Jazz was in awe over the hotel, he lived in a perpetual state of amazement that Jazz could view Molly’s insolence with such good humor. “We’ll take the cot,” he told the woman behind the desk. “And possibly a gag, if you have it.”

  “Ooh, kinky.” Jazz hipchecked him into a smile in spite of himself.

  The concierge didn’t blink. “We can supply you with any number of marital aids. If you’d like our list of—”

  “No. We’re fine. Thanks.”

  “Says who? Gimme.” Jazz leaned forward, her loose hair dangling. “I mean, yes, please, we would love to see this list of available marital aids.”

  The woman handed over a laminated menu and the room keys. “Enjoy your stay at the Palatial Suites. Please ring the desk if we can assist you in any way.”

  Jazz snatched the laminated menu—and yeah, he didn’t want to imagine why it was laminated—and bit her lower lip. “So how do we get a hold of this stuff? Is there room service like with food?”

  “Yes, ma’am. Simply request what you would like from the desk.”

  “Huh. Okay. Thank you.” Jazz headed off to the elevator while he made arrangements with the bellhop to carry up their stuff. Not that he and Jazz had a ton of things, but Molly had packed her entire life into four bags. She might’ve just emptied her closet.

  When he joined the ladies in the elevator, he shouldn’t have been surprised to see their heads bent together over the menu of sex toys. He shouldn’t have been, but he was.

  “I shouldn’t let you look at this,” Jazz said, tugging it away.

  “Hell yes, you should. I’m no virgin.” Molly dragged it back and cocked her head. “Some of this stuff sounds intriguing.”

  “Yes, and feel free to learn more about it when you’re eighteen.” Jazz snatched back the sheet and stuffed it in the back of her jean shorts like a weapon.

  “Uh, you don’t know where that’s been.” Gray took it from her and hit the button for the penthouse suite.

  He didn’t mean to look at the menu. Really he didn’t. Why did they need sex toys when her breasts and the sweet heat between her legs were more than enough to entertain him for a lifetime? But as he took in the array of items offered, from ticklers to fur-lined handcuffs to dildos, his mind went wild. It wasn’t as if they ever got much time alone, living in the house with the rest of the band. Sex was mostly impromptu and quick. They never got a chance to…play.

  He cast a dark look at Molly. She would not stop them tonight. If he had to turn the music up to scream and bar the door between the rooms, he would.

  “I think he’s decided he’s interested,” Molly said with a smirk, watching the numbers climb above the door.

  The door snicked open and he ushered them out of the elevator and into the suite, registering the “oohs” and “aahs” with a distracted smile. He had a call to make to Lila to finalize a few more arrangements and then he was calling down to the concierge to order about sixteen things off that menu. The bill for this place with the add-ons would probably empty out his bank account but he didn’t give a shit.

  He’d be responsible again next week.

  “Gray, come look at this,” Jazz called as he pried out his cell phone and headed into the bedroom. “French doors to the balcony. Oh my God, you can see the Golden Gate.”

  “Think he’s got something else on his mind at the moment,” Molly replied.

  “Dinner? Yeah, me too. I saw a Chinese place a few blocks over.”

  “He wants a pu
ssy platter, not Pu Pu, but nice try.”

  Jazz snorted out a laugh but Gray ignored them both as he sat on the ginormous, silk-sheeted bed. He banked on Jazz staying distracted long enough for him to ascertain everything was on track on Lila’s end for tomorrow.

  As far as Pu Pu platters and Jazz’s stomach, she would have to wait. His schedule for the evening included taking advantage of some of the hotel’s amenities. They had a ton of sightseeing to do, and he intended to start with the highlights of her body.

  “Eat an apple pie,” he advised before he called Lila.

  A few minutes later, they ended their abbreviated, hushed phone call and he called down to the front desk. He ordered a few of the things that had caught his eye—and snagged the attention of other parts of his anatomy—and got off the phone just as Jazz bounced onto the mattress.

  “Did you just order something called a two-headed monster?” She cocked her head. “I’m guessing that isn’t from the Chinese place.”

  “Two-headed massager, and no, it wasn’t.” He kicked back on the bed and extended a hand to her. “C’mere.”

  She crawled up the bed and curled up against him, but he could tell she was more concerned with where Molly was than with a quickie before dinner. Or better yet, a long, slow one. They’d been driving for hours, and he wanted nothing more than to sink into her and savor their last night together before they became official. And then tomorrow night, he’d savor her even more.

  Assuming she actually agreed to marry him after she found out the stunt he’d pulled. Both stunts, that is—the secret wedding, and the plan to pay off Molly, in spite of the fact that he was determined that no money would change hands. If Jazz found out what he’d done before Molly came to her senses regarding the importance of having her sister in her life, he might be divorced before he got married.

  “I’m going out to explore,” Molly called.

  Jazz propped her elbow on his chest and leaned half off the bed. “Wait. Where are you going?”

  The door to the suite slammed shut.

  Jazz shut her eyes and heaved out a breath. “Is this what parenting is going to be like?”

  “I doubt it. Our kid won’t be perusing menus of sex toys until they’re at least fifty.”

  She giggled. “I shouldn’t have let her look at it, but I forgot for a minute she’s only seventeen. Hell, not even quite seventeen yet. She acts so much older. Her boyfriend—lover—ick, whatever he was had to be our age.” She shuddered.

  “She’s been on our own for a while. That changes you.” He brushed his fingers over her cheek. “I don’t know how it didn’t change you more. Shows how strong a will you have.”

  “I’m naïve. Even with everything, I still want to pretend that people aren’t always out to con you. That sometimes someone might just want to be your friend or get to know you just because. No ulterior motive.” She gazed off in the distance over his shoulder. “This business fucks with your head. Everyone wants their pound of flesh. I guess it’s hard for me to understand that now I’m the one someone might want a piece of. I’m used to being the girl with nothing.”

  “You were never the girl with nothing.” He rubbed her lower lip with his thumb. “You have more than anyone I’ve ever known. Right here.” He slid his hand up over the slight swell of her belly to cover her heart.

  “You’re biased,” she said, smiling.

  “Damn right. Don’t forget stupidly in love too. I’m sure I’m imagining all your countless attributes.” Laughing, he pulled her more fully on top of him and cupped her cheeks in his hands, drawing her mouth onto his. “Like the fact that you make the most of every pocket of time you’re presented with. Such as right this very instant…”

  “Hmm, yeah, alone time isn’t something we get a lot of.” She glanced down between them. “And with him coming, that won’t be improving soon.”

  “You’re absolutely right. So we should take advantage of every opportunity.” He flicked her nose. “Get naked.”

  She grinned and sat back to tug her shirt over her head. The blush pink bra she wore beneath nearly made him weep. “You’re bossy.”

  “You know it.”

  A knock sounded at the door and he groaned, dipping his head back.

  “Is that your special delivery?” she asked, waggling her brows.

  “Oh yeah.” He nearly toppled her on her side in his haste to get off the bed. “Be right back.”

  At the door, he met the hotel employee and tipped him in exchange for the plain brown handled bag that was about an inconspicuous as a heart attack. The grin and wink the guy sent him was about the same.

  Gray shut the door. So much for discretion. This would probably end up in a tabloid next week. Rockstars engage in night of debauchery. Maybe they should break a lamp or two and throw a couch out the window to squeeze maximum juice from the story.

  He headed into the bedroom, stopping dead at the sight of Jazz wearing only her unclasped bra and standing in front of the window with the glitzy landscape of San Francisco stretched out behind her. “Beautiful,” he murmured, dropping the bag at his feet and striding forward to grip her arms.

  “The view? Yeah. I know—”

  His mouth crushed down on hers, cutting off her words. He fisted his hands in her hair and stroked his tongue between her lips, snatching her breath and the moan that escaped. He wanted everything. Every sound she could make, every involuntary movement. He wanted to taste her sighs, revel in her complete loss of control. Knowing damn well she couldn’t—wouldn’t—lose control that way with anyone else.

  He backed her up and worked to undo his jeans and boxers, not thinking about anything except maintaining the contact of their mouths and getting inside her. Nothing else existed. Molly could’ve walked into the room and he wouldn’t have been able to stop from lifting her up and pressing her shoulder blades into the window. She gasped from the temperature difference between her body and the glass, fueling his urgency as he spread her thighs. It didn’t require thought to aim. He just surged upward and she was there, a velvet fist, closing around him, trapping him in the oblivion of her slick pussy. One thrust and the frustrating day disappeared. It was all about them now. The way it had always been meant to be.

  She clutched his shoulder and his hair, pulling, twisting. Rocking against him in the rhythm that belonged only to them, one they’d never had to try to find. It was as if it had always been there, waiting. This heartbeat between them, pounding faster, faster. Her breath caught and turned into a whimper. She squeezed him inside her, so tight he swore he’d never want to leave. Surrounding him, making him groan at the pressure of her bare breasts against his chest and her candy-flavored lips streaking over his. Moving like a blur, dragging him with her to the place he craved more than air.

  Their place. Theirs.

  Clamping a hand on her hip, he levered her higher on the glass, powering into her until he hit that spot that made her eyes go wide and blind. She cried out, the sound as sharp as the nails she sliced down his back. The flash of pain spurred him on, pushing him to go harder, deeper. Her head dropped back and he pulled his mouth from hers to nuzzle her neck, warming the area with soft, wet kisses until a tremor went through her again and he bit down, wresting another whimper from her throat.

  Without mercy, he pummeled her against the glass, knowing he should hold back, trying to at least cushion the blows from his hips with his hands between her ass and the unforgiving window. But he couldn’t stop. She ripped something from him, an emotion he couldn’t tame if he tried. She was his life, and he’d die chasing this bliss with her. Into the sunset and beyond where only her fingers fumbling for his could reach him in the madness where he’d descended.

  The madness of her and him, together. Finally.

  He drew back and launched forward once more, his hands shaking while he tried to hold on while she struggled to lift her dark, sooty lashes. The moment their gazes connected, locked, he gave in to the unrelenting heat building inside him,
letting go with a rush that drove his lips back down to hers. She offered him her breath and he took it, filling his taxed lungs with the oxygen she panted into his mouth.

  Sweaty, victorious, somehow laughing like loons, they slid down the glass until they puddled on the floor. Her in his arms, still. Always. She dropped her damp forehead to his and wound her arms around his shoulders, trembling around him. With him. He clutched her tightly, wondering her if he’d ever be able to release her again.

  Eventually she brushed a lazy kiss over his chin. “What’s in the bag?”

  He chuckled as he tugged her bra down her shoulders. He’d been so wild for her he hadn’t even taken the time to push it all the way off. “Horny little thing.”

  “Duh.” She swiveled her hips and embedded him even deeper inside her, causing him to grunt.

  Christ, she was going to have him hard and ready to go again in no time if she kept flexing around him like that. She was soaked and hot, and knowing he’d gotten her that way in record time urged his still-simmering desire back to life.

  “Go see for yourself.” He patted her ass and she got to her feet, wavering just enough to make him laugh. He didn’t need drugs to feel high around her. She was the sweetest fix he’d ever known.

  She crossed the room and grabbed the bag then climbed on the bed to dump out his purchases. Kneeling in the center of the mattress, she laughed and gasped and muttered to herself about each item she discovered. Watching her obvious fascination made him harder and harder until he had to move or risk being permanently stuck on the floor. With an erection like he was sporting, he couldn’t waste a moment.

  “So what’s first?” he asked, running his tongue along the inside of his lower lip as he steeped himself in how she looked. Tumbled dark hair, flowing everywhere. Ruby red nipples, winter pale skin except where his lips and hands had marked her. That heart-shaped butt wiggling while she ripped open packages.

  She sat back and placed her hands on her thighs. “Um, everything?” She tugged out a thin flat item that had gotten lost beneath the rest and lifted an eyebrow. “A blindfold?”