by Gina Kincade
My chest tightened with emotion. How had I landed such an amazing guy?
“Are you saying you don’t want to make a video of us together? Or, do you want one of me using a vibrator? Should we experiment with some toys?”
He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat as though he struggled with his response. I didn’t miss his reaction to my questions, either. His dick was rock hard, and there was no denying it in the sweatpants he wore. Hendrix gently pulled up my navy-blue sweater and placed a light kiss above my belly button. “The mental visual of you with a vibrator obviously affected me, but nothing, and I mean nothing, is more important to me than your comfort level and happiness.”
I’m not sure if Mac had planted a seed in my head or not, but with Hendrix’s reaction, curiosity was beginning to tug at me a little bit. Would I be comfortable trying something new with him? Every fiber in my being knew I was safe with Hendrix. But there were still those moments of panic that unexpectedly bombarded me as a result of being raped when I was fourteen.
Chapter Two
“Come here.” Hendrix stood and held his hand out to me.
I tossed the blanket over the arm of the chair and joined him. He pulled me flush against his muscular body, and a soft moan slipped from my lips as his erection pressed against me.
“Talk to me, babe. What do you want? Not me or Mac, but what does Gemma want?” He guided me to the bed and brushed his mouth against mine. His hand slid under my sweater, his fingertips dancing across my skin. “Where have you wanted to make love to me?” His breath tickled my ear, sending delightful shivers down my spine.
“I … I’m not sure.” It wasn’t as though we hadn’t played around in different places such as his Dad’s indoor swimming pool or the weight room. We’d even had our share of fun on the kitchen counter and table at Hendrix’s house in Louisiana. I was pretty sure the only reason for the gas fireplace in our living room was for us to pull each other’s clothes off in a heated frenzy and make love on the floor in front of it. But I had a feeling that’s not what he was asking.
“I have a confession,” he added.
He stepped back and pulled my sweater over my head, tossing it on the chair.
“What’s that?” I asked, my interest piqued.
He released the clasp on my red lace bra and slowly slid the straps down my shoulders.
“I’ve always wanted to take you to a nice dinner, maybe to Anthony’s on the Spokane Falls. Maybe something more upscale.”
His hand caressed my right breast as he teased the other with his tongue, pulling my taut nipple gently between his teeth.
“Maybe get a few drinks in you,” he continued, smiling. “I’d buy you a form-fitting black dress with a slit up the thigh, and when we were tucked away in a hidden booth, I’d slide my hand slowly up your leg and to your pussy, my cock hardening immediately when I realized you weren’t wearing panties.”
“I could do that, not wear anything beneath my dress.” I pulled the hairband from his man bun, allowing the soft waves to fall free. “I could definitely do that.” I shuddered in anticipation at the thought of being in public while he secretly stroked my sex.
He gently pushed me on the bed and hovered over me. “That would be all right?”
“Yes.” My body tingled with the idea of what he would say next.
Hendrix stood and hooked his fingers over the waistband of my black and purple yoga pants. He eased them down along with my G-string, stopping mid-thigh. Raw desire flickered in his eyes as they darkened with need, then he joined me on the bed again. “You’d let me do this?” His attention never left my face as his hand moved down my stomach and dipped between my legs. I gasped when he spread my folds apart and massaged my sensitive nub.
“You can’t let anyone know, Gemma. The restaurant is full, and as I slip my fingers inside you…” He waited for a second then did as he described, causing my breath to hitch in my throat.
I clutched the covers as he continued, his fingers becoming slick with my desire.
“What else?” I asked, suddenly needing more.
“This.” He pinned me with a heavy-lidded gaze while he lifted his hand from between my legs, brought it to his mouth, and licked my juices from his fingers. “I want to taste you. Since the table has plenty of space, I drop beneath it, pull your dress above your waist, and spread your legs.” His deep voice was hypnotic as he slowly removed my pants, eliciting a whimper from my lips when his hot mouth brushed against my core.
A low groan escaped his throat as he ran his tongue up my slit. I fisted his hair in my hands and arched my back off the mattress, my chest heaving as my walls throbbed with pleasure. Excitement mounted inside me as I considered the scene Hendrix was describing…his muscular shoulders keeping my legs spread open while he sucked on my clit. There was something about the danger of getting caught that intrigued me.
I was seconds away from an orgasm when Hendrix stood, dropped his sweatpants, and his long, full erection bobbed free. “At this point, I ask you to go to the ladies’ room.” His hand moved to his cock, and he gave it a firm stroke.
“Okay.” My tongue darted across my lower lip. “And what happens when I’m there?”
“Make sure you’re alone, then signal me over. Once I’m inside, I lock the door behind me. I turn you toward the mirror, bend you slightly over the counter, and hike your dress up, exposing your sweet pussy. I knead your ass cheeks, and you spread your legs apart, tilting your butt in the air, giving me a full view. Show me what that looks like, Gemma.”
At this point, I was so fucking turned on, I would do almost anything he wanted.
My bare feet hit the carpet, and I turned and did as he requested.
He moved closer, his cock resting against the curve of my butt. His hand snaked up my stomach, between my breasts and over my throat. I struggled to breathe above the panic running riot inside me. What was he doing?
“It’s just me, babe. I’ll never hurt you.”
My pulse calmed a bit with the sound of his voice. Although his fingers were still wrapped around my neck, they weren’t tight. There was no threat, only desire. I leaned into his hold, silently giving him permission to continue.
He rubbed his dick up and down my folds, controlling every move. “You’re sexy as hell right now. Your dress is above your waist, and I’m about to sink my cock into you. I want to see your face in the mirror as I fuck you, realizing at any second someone could knock on the door. When no one answers, we’d only have a minute to get out. The time it takes to grab the manager will allow us to run.”
Hendrix pushed deep inside me, nearly knocking me off balance.
“Oh, God. That’s it.” For just a moment, I pretended we were in the restroom of the restaurant. “Fuck me, Hendrix.”
Hendrix grunted, his hand dropping from my throat to my breast. He thrust in and out, our bodies rocking together.
“Harder, babe.” I braced my arms, ready for him to plunge hard and deep.
He gripped my hips as he increased his rhythm. Stars exploded behind my closed eyes as my core tightened around him, and I experienced the most intense orgasm I’d ever had.
“That’s my girl.” Hendrix tensed and released a possessive growl. “I’m going to come.” His pace picked up, and I ground against him.
Hendrix stilled, his labored breath tickling my skin. My legs had turned to jelly, and the second Hendrix pulled out of me, I collapsed on the bed, then rolled over on my back. “Oh my God,” I said, panting and dabbing the sweat off my forehead with the palm of my hand.
Hendrix lay next to me and gently placed his hand on my arm. “Did you really enjoy that, or did you do it for me?”
I turned my head and stared at him. His features were clouded with concern.
“It was fucking mind-blowing.” A shy smile pulled at the corners of my mouth. This was something new for me, but I liked it.
He studied me, searching me for any signs that I’d regretted what we
’d just done. “You would have stopped me, right?”
I propped up on my elbow. “I know I’m safe with you. All I have to do is tell you to stop. If you recall, I did a few times when we were first together.”
“I remember. It’s so easy to get caught up in the moment because it feels so good…but under no circumstances would I ever want to pressure you.”
A messy lump of emotions lodged itself in my throat. This man had moved heaven and earth for me and kept me safe. There was no one I loved more.
I clasped his cheeks in my palms. “I love you, and there’s not a doubt in my mind that you love me, too. Please know that if I ever feel threatened, I’ll stop you.” I gave him a gentle kiss. “It was fun. Is this part of what Mac was referring to?”
“What we just did is a fantasy that could easily be acted on.”
“And…would you really do something like that? I mean in a restaurant and public restroom?”
“Yeah.” A playful grin spread across his face before he gave me a kiss on the forehead. He hopped off the bed and strolled into the bathroom, leaving me with my conflicting thoughts.
Chapter Three
My father haunted my dreams that night. Maybe it was the fantastic afternoon Hendrix and I’d had together, but somewhere inside me it was difficult to separate my past from the present. As I grew older, I’d seen my father for who he was. A sick man obsessed with perverted sex. He’d never touched me, but I’d suffered at the hands of one of his friends. Hendrix had been the first guy I’d even dated, and he’d been kind and protective while my heart healed. He taught me that sex wasn’t just an expression of our love, but it was acceptable to have some fun without thinking I was a disgusting slut. Most days I won that mental battle. But not today.
I rubbed my eyes and blinked the sleep away. It was after nine in the morning, and Hendrix was already out of bed. I stumbled to the bathroom and washed my face. Peering at my reflection in the mirror, I wondered if I would ever be able to participate with Hendrix in his restaurant or public restroom sex fantasy. The thought alone had shame washing over me, my Father’s religious rants rambling through my mind. Even though I knew his goal was manipulation and control, his words still stung.
I dried my cheeks off and grabbed my fluffy, dark green bathrobe. I’d bought it in Connecticut when we were touring. The east coast was some of the most beautiful country I’d seen next to Portland, Oregon. In a few weeks, August Clover would start another tour. Mac would join Cade again, which would be fun. Sometimes it was a bit lonely as the only female in the band.
I yawned and traipsed down the stairs, following the aroma of the freshly brewed dark roast coffee coming from the kitchen. Hendrix had done a beautiful job with this room. The walnut cabinets, light hardwood floor, and tan granite counters created a gorgeous contrast. I picked up my favorite Winnie the Pooh mug from the dish strainer and poured myself a steaming cup of liquid life then poked my head into the living room. “Babe?” I called out. No answer. Wrapping a hand around my warm mug, I proceeded down the hallway to see if he was in the studio. The green light glowed above the door. He was working on something. Normally, he’d let me in on his thoughts once he reached a certain point, but there were times it had thrown him off his creative flow. I completely understood and wanted to support him in the way he needed me most.
I eyed the office across from our studio. There were some bills and paperwork I needed to take care of before we left on tour again. My toes dug into the soft carpet, and I flipped on the light and raised the shades. Although I was on the opposite side of the house, I could still get a glimpse of the Spokane River.
I sank into the office chair, rolled up to the executive desk, and flipped open my MacBook Pro. While it booted up, I opened the top drawer and pulled out my notepad with my ongoing list of shit to do. I frowned as the corner of a manila envelope grabbed my attention. I gave it a little tug, but it wouldn’t give, and I didn’t want to tear it.
I leaned down, my hair grazing the floor as I identified the problem. Shutting the drawer, I attempted to open the one beneath it, but it was locked. That was super odd. Hendrix and I shared this desk and computer, and I’d never even been aware that he had a key. I guess he did.
More determined than ever, I wiggled the envelope again, but it was wedged too tight for me to pull it out. Dammit. What was so important that I wasn’t allowed to see it? My pulse thundered in my ears. It wasn’t like Hendrix to keep secrets. I chided myself for being overly sensitive. Somehow, Mac, in all her good-hearted encouragement concerning Valentine’s Day, had brought up harsh memories and left me feeling insecure about my relationship. The memory of discovering shocking information locked away in my father’s desk drawer washed over me. It was moments like these that I longed for Ada Lynn, the woman who had loved me more than my parents. Over time, she’d become my best friend. She passed away seven months ago, at the age of eighty-four. We'd only just moved her from her home in Louisiana to live with us here in Spokane. At that time, we were still living with Hendrix's dad, Franklin Harrington. I pursed my lips together and focused on the to-do list, attempting to shove the envelope out of my head until I had time to ask Hendrix about it.
***
The afternoon crept by at a slug’s pace while Hendrix remained in the studio. When we’d designed the space, we’d included a bathroom and added a microwave and mini fridge so we didn’t have to break our concentration. It was crazy how fast you could lose your thoughts just by leaving the safety of the studio. It was a creative cocoon, nurturing every word written and note sung. We pulled a lot of all-nighters. Every time we did, Hendrix and I grew closer, and I swear I fell in love with him all over again. We also had sessions with Cade and Asa, who was the newest member of the band and our drummer.
My mind returned to the locked drawer while I rinsed and loaded the dishes and contemplated a run. I’d picked up some super cute white Ugg earmuffs and was itching to try them out, but not as much as I wanted to ask my fiancée why there was a locked drawer in our desk.
I picked up a dish towel from the counter and dried my hands. The late afternoon sunshine filtered through the slider, and I wondered how chilly it was outside. Sometimes the sun looked deceptively warm. I walked over and pushed the door open. The cold wind whipped around my face, and I pulled back, shuddering.
Locking the door, I bounded up the stairs two at a time. Minutes later, I was dressed in my running gear, and my headphones were tucked into my ears. I adjusted my earmuffs then tied my tennis shoes. A run would help me shake off my nerves about the desk drawer. Logically, I knew it probably wasn’t a big deal, but I couldn’t rid myself of the uncertainty. I also knew myself well enough to know it was more than the manila envelope. Mac was right. Valentine’s Day was closing in rapidly and I had to figure out what to do for Hendrix.
Heat stirred between my legs as I remembered Hendrix’s fantasy of making love in public. Dammit. I needed some air to clear my head and organize my thoughts, staying locked up in the house was only driving me nuts.
I scribbled Hendrix a quick note in case he came out of the studio. Usually we’d just text, but if he was wearing headphones, he wouldn’t hear it anyway. We did have an app on our phones that flipped on a red light in the studio, but this was strictly for emergencies. Hendrix had insisted we have the option installed after I’d been hunted by a stalker last year. With the app, even if I was out with Mac at the mall, all I had to do was open it and hit the SOS button. It would send a message to his phone, and the room would automatically fill with the red light. It would also alert the police, so it wasn’t something to play around with.
I locked the front door behind me and stepped into the brisk February air. Bobbing my head to the beat of the music playing in my earbuds, I pulled on my gloves and stretched. I jogged down the driveway and took a right, heading toward my best friend’s home. It was a three-mile run, but I had a lot of thinking to do.
The breaks between a tour and recording an albu
m were often brutal. It was during those months I had way too much time on my hands, and my heart ached for Ada Lynn constantly. If I stayed busy, I wasn’t as lonely without her. During the years after my rape, when I’d refused to leave the safety of my parent’s house in Louisiana, it was Ada Lynn who had kept me sane. Every afternoon, I’d venture only as far as the curb to check our mail and Ada Lynn’s house next door. Then, I’d join her on her front porch, plunking down in the available rocking chair. Sometimes we never spoke a word, but she’d reach over and place her hand on mine as the steady creaking of the chairs eventually synchronized. Those were the darkest days of my life, and Ada Lynn had loaned me her strength. She never stopped believing in me.
A silent tear spilled down my cheek, and I swiped at it with my gloved hand.
“I miss you so much, old lady,” I mumbled, my feet smacking the asphalt of the two-lane road that wasn’t heavily travelled.
I inhaled deeply, consciously choosing to think about something that wouldn’t send my mood in the ditch. The gutter, on the other hand … my mind drifted back to the conversation I had with Mac in the car yesterday. And I wondered if I could get her to go with me to Adam and Eve. I barked out a laugh. Of course I could. Mac would be elated I was willing to push my comfort zone regarding sex toys. She’d probably buy out the store just for her and Cade. After some thought, I decided I wasn’t quite ready to make the leap to a vibrator yet. Hendrix’s physical response made me question myself, though. The moment I’d mentioned the idea, he had definitely responded. Heat spread through me, my core throbbing with need. I wasn’t sure if I’d be more comfortable with toys or nude photos. Maybe I’d put the toys on the back burner for now. My overactive brain analyzed every option I could think of for a Valentine’s Day surprise. Maybe a nice dinner and romp somewhere public would be fun. I chewed on my bottom lip and contemplated where that might be. The back of a limo was out. We’d done that before anyway. The fantasy Hendrix had shared took place in a very public setting, somewhere we could easily get caught.
