I see a flash of fear cross her face.
“I can’t have a relationship, not with you or anyone.” She turns her head from me.
“Hey.” I catch her chin, bringing her back. “I’m not saying we should have a relationship, Ly. Come on, this is me you’re talking to. You know that I’ve never had a relationship in my life, and I’m not about to start now.”
Her face relaxes, and she nods lightly. “Okay, so what are you saying?”
“That we should keep fucking. Outside of that, we’ll continue to be friends.”
She screws up that gorgeous face of hers. “You want us to be fuck buddies?”
“Yeah.”
“I don’t know,” she says, unconvinced.
“Well, what do you suggest?” I run my fingers down her side, enjoying the feel of her squirming under my touch. Stopping at her hip, I grip it. “I sure as hell can’t come up with anything else. Trust me, if I could, I would have by now. Plus, everyone already thinks we’re fucking, so—”
“That’s not a reason for us to continue doing so.” She frowns.
I’m starting to get pissed off. She’s seriously hard work, and it’s fucking exhausting.
“I never said it was. But like you pointed out, we have a hard time staying away from one another. After what happened tonight, it’s pretty damn clear that you don’t want me to be with anyone else, and I sure as hell don’t want you fucking anyone but me. You’re also seriously down on orgasms due to that stupid-ass sex ban you put on yourself, and I can more than make up for them. I’m a machine when it comes to sex. I literally never tire, and as you’ve just discovered, I’m awesome at it. Also, I haven’t fucked anyone but you in a really long time, so I’m down on blowing my load inside a woman.”
Okay, where the hell did all that just come from?
I’m starting to think that this woman will be my undoing.
She gives me a look of distaste. “Jesus, Tom, blowing your load? You think using words like that will bring me over to the dark side?”
Rubbing my head, I let out a frustrated laugh. “Okay, I could have said that last part differently. How about, I haven’t had an expulsion of semen while inside a woman in a very long time?”
That breaks her angry resolve. A small smile quickly works its way onto her lips. “A little better.” She laughs. “If not a bit creepy sounding.”
Relaxing, I smile and tuck her hair behind her ear.
I like to see Lyla happy. I like it even more when she’s happy because of me.
“How long?” She traces a finger over my eyebrow.
“How long, what?”
“Since you last had sex?”
I check my watch. “Um…about sixty seconds.”
“Knock it off!” She gives me a playful shove.
I laugh at her daintiness.
“I meant, before me,” she clarifies.
I close my eyes in thought.
Who was the last woman I fucked before Lyla?
Oh yeah, the blonde waitress from that bar. Can’t remember the name—or hers. She took me back to her apartment after she finished her shift. We started fucking on the sofa. Then, her roommate came home mid-fuck and joined us. So, my last fuck was actually a threesome. I ended up doing the roommate up the ass. She was a bit weird. Insisted on sucking my cock with the condom still on after it had been up her ass. But, hey, whatever floats her boat. I got off, and that was all I cared about.
And it was all I cared about for a really long time—until Lyla.
“Ages,” I answer. “About five weeks ago.”
She starts to laugh. “Five weeks isn’t long!”
“Hey!” I poke her waist.
She lets out a squeal and wiggles, slapping my hand away.
Hmm…she’s ticklish. I might just have to use that to my advantage and soon.
“Five weeks is a really long time, Firecracker.” Especially when I’m used to fucking daily, usually multiple times with multiple women.
Not that I’m going to say that to her.
I’m not stupid. I want to keep fucking Lyla, and reminding her of how I used to be is not the way to make that happen.
“And it felt even longer while living under the same roof as you. Teasing me with your hot body and your amazing tits hidden under those tight little cartoon T-shirts while you strut your sexy ass around the bus.”
“I do not strut, and I definitely don’t tease.” She sticks her tongue out.
I go to pinch it, but I miss. Instead, I tug on her lower lip. “You tease me, and you know it. I had a serious hard-on for days after the dry-hump against the bus. I couldn’t get him to stay down.”
“Sorry.” She giggles.
The sound is like wet lips sliding down my cock.
“Living on that tour bus with you has been pure torture. I haven’t dated my hand so much since I was a teenager. I’ve had the worst case of blue balls ever.”
I pout, going for full effect. I’m trying to win on guilt here.
Hey, I never claimed to be a good guy.
She wraps her fingers around the one I have on her lip, and she kisses the tip. “Poor baby. Have I been driving you crazy?”
“That’s putting it mildly,” I grumble.
“So, I guess then you’re owed…” She closes her eyes in thought. Opening them, she says, “Seventy expulsions of semen.” She finishes that with a sexy smile.
Seventy?
I do quick math in my head.
She’s averaging me having two fucks a day. Not like I’ll be telling her the truth and reminding her of the man I was, so I just go with it. “Well, it’s sixty-nine now, thanks to you, gorgeous. Sixty-nine—my favorite number.” I give her a cheeky smile.
She shakes her head, laughing.
“But to keep the average up, we’ll have to fuck twice a day, every day.” I rest my elbow next to her head, putting my head in my hand. I stare down at her.
She blows out a breath. Pushing a hand into her hair, she stares past me at the ceiling. “No one could know we’re sleeping together.”
And she’s mine.
I climb on top of her, positioning myself back between her thighs. “No one will know.”
Her eyes meet mine. “I don’t want people to think I’m trying to screw my way to success.”
“People wouldn’t think that.” I brush her bangs off her forehead.
“No, they’d probably think I lost my mind.”
I ignore the sting her words cause. Brushing over them, I say, “Yeah, well, I like it when you lose your mind over me.” I press a kiss to her neck.
“How are we going to do this—have sex without anyone finding out while we’re living together on the tour bus? I don’t know if it’s possible.”
I bring my face back to her, putting the tip of my nose against hers. “It’s more than possible. I can be very inventive when necessary.” I nudge my hard cock against her thigh.
“Oh, I’m sure you can be.” She lifts an eyebrow. “And you don’t think it’ll be awkward—us living and sleeping together?”
I cup her cheek with my hand. “Things are only as complicated as you make them, darlin’.”
I watch, rapt, as she processes my words.
“No complications. No ties. Just sex.”
“Just sex,” I murmur before pressing a kiss to her lips.
I can feel her body softening beneath me, giving in to me.
She puts her hands in my hair, running her fingers through the strands. “And when the tour ends, so does our arrangement.”
Will I be done with her by then?
Yeah, I think I will be.
And I’m still keeping my promise. Only sleeping with one woman. No screwing around.
Perfect.
“When the tour ends, so do we.” I tilt my head back, enjoying the feel of her gentle fingers running across my scalp.
“Okay…I’m in,” her breathy voice whispers.
Then, her hands leave my hair. I open m
y eyes, missing the feel of her, only to find her hand stuck in front of my face. She’s holding it out to me like she wants me to shake it.
“Er…what the fuck do you want me to do with that?”
She gives me a sardonic look. “Er…shake it.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Do we need to spit on them first, you know, to seal the deal properly?”
“Just shake my hand, assface.”
“Firecracker, when I shake on something with a woman, it always involves tongues.” I take hold of her hand and run the tip of my tongue very slowly up her palm. Reaching her middle finger, I lick my way up and then suck it into my mouth.
She shudders.
Smiling, I make my way down her sexy little body. I hook her leg over my shoulder and press my tongue straight onto her pussy.
She gasps, her hands going for my hair.
I suck her clit into my mouth and push a finger inside her. Then, I go to work until she’s writhing beneath me, unashamedly fucking my mouth.
She couldn’t be any hotter if she tried.
Then, she’s coming off the bed, crying out a bunch of expletives, as she orgasms into my mouth.
And I lap up everything she gives me.
I wipe my mouth on the back of my hand and climb up her trembling body. I press a kiss to her lips. “There—it’s a deal.”
I push myself up, jumping to my feet. “I’m just gonna grab a bottle of water and fuel up. You need anything?”
She gives a small shake of her head a stunned look on her face.
Chuckling, I say, “Two secs, darlin’, and I’ll be right back to give you that fucking we both need.”
I grab a water from the fridge and quickly down it before getting another to take back with me.
When I get back to the bedroom, she’s still lying where I left her, blonde hair splayed across the pillow, looking liking a goddess.
“Hey,” she says, resting up on her elbows, pushing those gorgeous tits of hers up into my view. “In the elevator, you said you had something for me. Did you actually have something for me? Or was I right, and it was actually just a euphemism for sex?”
“No, pessimist.” I lean against the doorjamb. “I actually have something for you.”
Her face lights up. I like the way it makes me feel.
Putting the bottle of water down on the dresser, I head to my overnight bag and pull out the plastic carrier containing what I bought for her earlier.
This is a first for me. I’ve never got something for a woman I want to fuck or am actively fucking.
I feel a quick stab of nerves that she won’t like what I bought her. Then, I slap that pussy thought right out of my head.
“It’s not much,” I say, handing the bag to her. “But I saw it at the gas station when we stopped this morning, and it had you written all over it.”
I watch her face as she reaches into the bag and pulls out the yellow Angry Birds T-shirt.
“Angry Birds,” she reads. “A is for angry.” She lets out a giggle.
Then, without warning, a broken-sounding sob follows.
She slaps a hand over her mouth, surprise and tears filling her eyes.
The breath is knocked out of me.
Shit.
“Christ, Lyla, I didn’t mean to upset you.” I reach for her, pulling her to me.
“You haven’t. I love the shirt…I do. It’s just…the cartoon T-shirt thing was something my mom and I shared. She’d always buy me a new shirt while she was on the road. I carried on the tradition after she died, and no one else has ever bought one for me but her.” She rubs away a tear that has fallen.
The sight of her crying makes me feel like I’ve been sucker-punched. I’ve never been affected by a woman’s tears before. But seeing Lyla cry bothers me—a lot.
“I meant to buy a shirt from each city we visited, but there hasn’t been time to get to the store since we’re always so busy when we stop. Then, before I know it, we’re back on the road. We’re nearly two weeks into the tour, and I haven’t bought single T-shirt.”
I cup her face. “We’ll start now.” I rub my thumb over her damp cheek. “I’ll make sure we carve out time in each city to get to a store and buy you a new shirt.”
Hopeful, beautiful blue eyes blink back at me.
I have this sudden feeling of falling.
“You think we could? It wouldn’t cause any time issues?”
I brush my sudden vertigo aside. “I schedule this tour. People work to my timing. They do what I say. And I say, we’re getting you a T-shirt in every town we stop in.”
“Thank you.” She takes hold of my hand, turning her face into it, and presses a kiss to my palm.
It’s warm and caring. And loving.
No.
I feel like my balls have just been put into a vise. My heart starts to hammer out of its cage.
I move away from her touch and climb off the bed, using the excuse of getting my water bottle from the dresser. I keep my back to her while drinking from the bottle until I feel my heart rate return to normal.
When I turn, her arms are up in the air, and the Angry Birds tee is descending, almost about to cover up those perfect tits of hers.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
She stops, the shirt teetering way too close to coverage for my liking. She gives me a look of confusion. “Putting on the cute shirt you bought me.”
Shaking my head, I stride over and pull the shirt back off. I toss it to the nearby chair. “New rule—no clothes when you and I are together.”
“That could get a little awkward on the bus, and you know, in public.”
“All right, smart-ass. You and I in a bedroom, clothes stay at the door.”
“I don’t like to sleep naked.”
Leaning over her, my hand quickly moves up her inner thigh, and without stopping, I push two fingers inside her. “Well, get used to it.”
She tightens around my fingers, her head falling back onto the pillow.
“I need you inside me,” she breathes.
“Say please.”
Her eyes bore into mine. “Please,” she growls, her jaw clenched.
In seconds, I’m sheathed and fucking her again.
She’s sleeping now. Worn out from the four orgasms I gave her.
And she’s wearing the damn T-shirt.
I caved after she got all cute on me. I’m not happy about it. I don’t see the reason for covering up her gorgeous body. But she wanted to wear it, and I gave in.
Definitely something I need to work on. Giving in is not something I’m used to doing.
She pulled that shirt on, lay down in my arms, her head on my chest, and was out in minutes.
She’s not used to all the sex. Well, she’ll have to learn and fast, because my sex drive is really high. We’re going to be screwing like this the whole time we’re on tour.
I stare down at her. She looks even more beautiful in sleep.
Then, I look at the T-shirt and smile. I don’t why, but I get a ridiculously happy feeling from knowing she’s wearing the shirt I bought her.
But, that smile disappears quickly when my mind reminds me that shit is still here, sitting out there in the goddamn minibar.
I specifically requested no Segal in the minibar, like I do at every hotel I stay in. Stupid fuckers here obviously don’t give a shit about their guests’ requests. Yeah, well, tomorrow, they’re going to get a taste of pissed off Tom Carter.
Knowing I won’t sleep with that shit in here, I ease my arm out from underneath Lyla, and quietly slip out of bed and go through to the living room.
I open the door to the minibar and grab all the bottles of Segal. I can’t even stand to have that shit in my hands, so I quickly dump them in the wastebasket. Walking over to the door, I open it and leave the wastebasket out in the hall for the cleaners to take away.
The minute I shut the door, all the tension I was feeling leaves my body.
I go back to the bedroom and climb in
to bed. Lyla has turned over in her sleep, so I move up behind her and wrap my arm over her waist, feeling strangely soothed by the warmth of her body.
I’ve never slept with a chick like this before. Usually, we fuck, and then I go home.
I thought it would be weird, sleeping here with her, but it’s not. I really like it.
“Where did you go?” she asks in a sleepy voice.
She’s awake. I press a kiss to her neck. “Just to get a drink,” I lie.
“Are you going back to sleep?” She yawns.
I smile against her skin. Then, I lift her shirt and smooth my hand down her side and over her ass.
“No, I was thinking I might give you another orgasm, if you’re not too tired that is.”
I slip my hand between her legs. She parts them for me. I run my finger between her lips, finding her wet and so very ready for me.
God, she’s so fucking hot.
She shrugs, trying to feign nonchalance. “I’m not tired anymore. Sure, I guess I could go for another orgasm. I mean, you do give them so very well.”
Grinning, I reach over and grab a condom from the bedside table. Only two left. Looks like I’ll have to stock up on these babies. Not that I’m complaining.
I have that condom on in seconds. Gripping her thigh with my hand, I lift her leg higher and push inside her.
“Christ, Lyla. You’re so tight, so fucking hot.”
“Oh God,” she moans.
I start fucking her, sliding my cock in and out of her slick hole.
Having sex with Lyla is like finding my nirvana.
And I suddenly realize that this is all I want. To keep doing this with her. I can’t imagine ever stopping.
No.
I will stop. The tour will end, and so will this thing I have with her.
Instantly, I’m hit with a barrage of feelings.
A part of me—the part that is with her right now, inside her, feeling her all around me—is exhilarated and light in a way that I never have before.
But the other part of me, the part that knows I have to let this go—let her go—well, that part feels very fucking dark indeed.
The Next Morning—Tom’s Suite, Fairmont Hotel, Pittsburgh
Taming the Storm Page 18
