by Cari Quinn
She turned in his arms. “I haven’t found this to be the case.”
“We figured out how to get you off last night, didn’t we?”
She nodded. “That’s true and I liked it very much.” Her blue-gray eyes filled with awareness. He recognized the heavy-lidded response and wanted to get back to that. “Will you teach me?”
He groaned. “You’re going to kill me.”
She gnawed on her lower lip. “Is that a no?” His cock hardened against her belly. A smile spread across her face. “I believe that might be my answer.”
He stripped out of his sleep pants. They were half off already, but if he was teaching, he was going to be comfortable, goddammit. Especially since he was pretty sure it was going to be a long time before she got him off.
She inched down his body again. “Do you like a firm touch? I read that some men require an almost uncomfortably firm grip on their shaft.”
He dropped his back onto the pillows. Oh, yeah. He was a dead man. “Let’s not turn it blue or anything.”
She lowered her mouth to the tip. “Soft.” She looked up at him, her eyes so earnest.
He groaned. “Put it in your mouth. Teeth away,” he said on a hiss.
“Right. Sensitive.” She bobbed her head down his dick and the slight slurping noise was like a timer ding. His balls tightened and drew up against his body. “It’s much easier from wetting you with my mouth.”
Easier and so much fucking hotter.
He nodded. “We prefer no chafing.” His hips lifted off the mattress as she shuttled her hand down his erection and licked along the underside of the head. She followed the vein down to the base of his cock and her generous lips curved around his shaft.
“You taste salty. Not sweat, but something else.”
He growled out a groan as she stroked up to the little bead of pre-cum that ran down the flared head. Even untutored, she was a revelation. There was nothing tentative about her, just sure strokes that pushed him far too close to the edge. Between touching her last night and snuggling up against her this morning, he was closer to the wire than he preferred to admit.
She followed the underside of his shaft again and paused when she got to the base. She looked up at him before pulling one side of his ball sac into her mouth. She watched him carefully as she fluttered her tongue over one, then the other.
His muscles locked.
Easing back, she swallowed. “Was that bad?”
“No,” he said on a half breath.
She lifted his shaft up and did it again. Each time, her nose brushed along his cock.
“Stroke it when… God, yes. Like that.” She stroked him and sucked his balls until his eyeballs rolled to the back of his damn head. His hips lifted in reaction and he curled his fingers into his palm so he didn’t grab her hair.
He blew out a slow breath and pushed a loose curl out of her face. She chose that moment to switch it up and take his cock into her mouth. He didn’t mean to twist his fingers into her hair, but her eyes went huge and round and she sucked stronger.
Her tongue massaged along the underside of the head and he tightened his hold on her. “Lauren.”
Did his voice sound that pained?
Because, sweet fuck, he was going to go off in her mouth in a second if she kept that up. She dragged her hand down his shaft and cupped his balls. Again, her eyes went wider. Her lips were raspberry-red from working him over, and they were wrapped around him just like he’d imagined.
“Lauren,” he whispered. “Fuck.” His voice got stronger and she let him free with a pop. He was so damp from her mouth that she had to catch a mixture of their wetness with her hand.
She stroked him faster and leaned forward as more pre-cum came to the surface.
“I’m going to come, sweetheart. You can—oh, God.” He sat up and tangled his fingers in her hair.
She didn’t lean back, in fact she shoved him in her mouth and sucked harder until he had no choice but to let go. She made a little choking sound, but didn’t pull away. She licked around her lips where some of his cum had escaped and down his shaft.
By the time she was done, he was clean and semi-hard again.
“That was amazing.” She crawled up to him as she dragged the back of her hand over her mouth. “It didn’t taste as bad as I’d read about. You must have a decent diet.”
He collapsed against his pillows again and draped his arm across his face with a laugh.
“I feel weird though. I can’t explain it.”
“Can I get my breath back for a sec before—”
“Oh, it’s not a question. I understand it. Enough stimulation and any man can ejaculate.” She wiggled up against the back of the bunk and shifted against him restlessly.
He dropped his arm down. “If you were any more stimulating, we’d be in trouble.”
“Why?”
“Because I’d never let you leave my bed.”
“Oh.” She blinked. “I think I like the sound of that.”
He shifted her under him. “Now, let’s see if we can do a little of the same for you.”
“Oh, but you did last night.”
He waggled his eyebrows. “Handily, a woman can have so many more orgasms than a man.” He slipped his fingers under the waistband of her panties. His favorite David Bowie shirt was stretched across her breasts. He was tempted to go up, but figured there wasn’t much time before someone came back to the bus.
He was on borrowed time as it was. Sundays were hit or miss with people coming and going. Sometimes his bandmates went to hotels with hookups, sometimes they didn’t go to sleep at all, and sometimes they even moved on to the next city with some new friend and sent a check-in text.
Warning Sign didn’t quite make sense yet. They were getting closer, but there were still a lot of speed-bumps.
Lauren looked up at him with those big stormy eyes and he groaned at the slickness he found between her thighs. She didn’t even know her own body yet. Such a huge learning curve for both of them.
Instead of a frightened virgin, she was a fascinated one. She wanted to know everything, and he wanted to show her every last thing he knew—as well as learn a few new ones along the way.
The little bit of fluff over her swollen slit was soaked.
He inched his way down her body and kissed his way down her ribs to her belly and snapped the top of her underwear with his teeth. He glanced at her face and she was watching him with those huge eyes that missed nothing.
He opened his mouth over her lower belly and swirled his tongue along her skin.
The curtain of his bunk was torn away. “Handle your shit,” Malachi bellowed.
West jerked and slammed his head into the top of his bunk. “What the fuck?” He quickly shielded Lauren.
She scrabbled up the bunk, but instead of cowering behind him, she grabbed Mal’s shirt. “Excuse you? Have you not heard of a thing called privacy?” She couldn’t exactly drag him back because Mal was as immovable as a mountain when he wanted to be.
He did duck his head back into West’s bunk. “What did you say?”
“Is this your bunk? I think not. And he was handling his shit, thank you very much. And now we’ve been interrupted, which has definitely put a damper on the mood. How would you like that?”
Mal tipped his head then glanced at West. “Handle your woman.” He stepped back and thundered to the front of the bus.
Lauren turned to West. “What just happened?”
“Welcome to life on a bus.” He snaked his hand out his curtain to the little cabinet outside his bunk where he’d stashed her clothes before handing them to her.
“It’s worse than a dorm. Or an all girls’ school.”
“Never did the dorm thing. I didn’t last in college as long as my buddies.”
“Really?” She frowned at him. “But you’re so…”
His lips quirked. “I like to read.”
“Oh. Well, being self-taught is very admirable.”
“Seriously, dude. I wasn’t just breaking up your fuckfest.” Mal’s voice rocked the bus.
West righted his clothes and hopped off the second level bunk he called home. “I don’t know what’s going on, Lo, but maybe you better get dressed.”
“I’m going to call the cops if you don’t show me Lauren Bryant.” A voice came from the front of the bus.
West turned to her. “Who is that?”
“Crap.” Lauren pushed her hands under the pillows and sheets. “Where’s my phone?”
West reached into the cubby at the head of the bunk and unearthed her cell. The front of the screen was full of texts from Ethan.
Ethan who she’d mentioned a few times last night without explaining their relationship beyond a few cryptic comments that half the time seemed to contradict each other. He hadn’t even been sure he could believe her, though his gut had told him he could trust her not to dick him over.
Now the guy was here on his bus, and West didn’t know what to think anymore.
“Why does this dude have such a hard-on for where you are?”
“Well, I didn’t exactly come back home, you know? Then I stopped answering his texts because someone swiped my phone.” Lauren bowed up off the mattress as she sucked in her already pretty flat stomach to zip her pants.
“Wait. Home?”
“Yeah.” She hopped off the bunk. “We live together.”
Eight
So she hadn’t exactly meant to blurt that out first thing. Lauren wasn’t sure what she should have led with, but not that.
Probably “he’s just my overprotective best friend” rather than something that made West’s nostrils flare and his eyes narrow.
“You live with him? As in share a bed with him?”
“What? I share his guest bed in that I use it when—” She broke off and fished through her pockets for some of her hair pins. Her hair was at maximum crazy stage from not combing it out with anything but her fingers last night. “I think you mean his actual bed, like the one he sleeps in.”
“Yes, Lauren, pretty sure that’s what I mean.”
No more cute nicknames now, that was for sure. She’d liked him calling her Lo now and then. Another casualty of her selective truth-telling.
Time to stop being vague and lay it all on the line. Including her damn project, which she’d practically forgotten all about in her pursuit of pleasures of the flesh.
Flesh that was still achy from being so close to his talented mouth. Damn Ethan. She’d kick him for tongue-blocking her if she didn’t appreciate his worrying about her.
It was totally unnecessary, but it was sweet.
“He’s my best friend. That’s it.”
West locked his jaw and didn’t look at her. This was all her fault. She’d put that doubt on his face by wanting to pretend she didn’t have a life back home. Hey, she could just run off with a rockstar and pretend to be a real groupie, right? One without cares or obligations.
It was also her fault that Ethan was talking louder than she’d ever heard him before outside the bus. He was probably about two seconds away from getting into fisticuffs with Mal.
She rubbed at her cheeks, remembering her heavy makeup. “Is there cold cream in the vanity in the bathroom? I can’t let him see me like this. He’ll think that—”
“What? That you were in here with me having a good time? Isn’t that what we were doing?” He tipped up her chin and brushed his finger over her lower lip. “You said he’s your best friend. My gut tells me to trust you. So why do you care how he sees you or what he thinks may have happened?”
“He’s my best friend,” she said again as the raging continued outside. “He took me in when my parents kicked me out.”
“Why would they kick you out?”
“It’s a long story, and it has a lot to do with why I’m here. Why he’s here. I already made him worry because I got swept up in all of this.” She flapped a hand around them. “In you.”
West stepped back and crossed his arms. “If I’m dragging you down, you’re free to—”
“Don’t,” she said miserably, bowing her head. “Don’t ruin the one perfect night of my life with harsh words just because you think I’m a lying skank.”
“A virgin skank? How does that work?”
But she was on a roll now. “I’m not. Okay, maybe I didn’t tell you everything at first, but can you blame me? You’re you, and I’m me. We’re so different, but you actually seemed like you liked me.”
“Not liked,” he said quietly, shutting his eyes. “Like.”
She gripped his hand, squeezing it. “Let me just go wash my face and I’ll deal with him. If you can tell him I’ll be right out—”
“Lauren, dammit, will you come out here? I know you’re on that bus and this thug won’t let me in.”
West took her hand and led her to the front of the bus. “Come on. Let’s get this over with.”
She was so momentarily taken aback by West not only taking charge, but making it a “we” situation—she’d never been part of a “we” before, and she couldn’t deny it felt pretty damn nice—that she didn’t protest as he tugged her toward her destiny. This was her situation to handle. Her mess to clean up. Yet she stood there like the meek little woman as West charged down the stairs and into the overcast morning.
“Mal,” West said sharply, stepping between the two angry men. Moving Mal was like displacing a mountain, and it took West more than a few tries to get the huge bald dude to back up.
Mal shot Lauren a look of disgust and lifted his hands in the air. “Not my problem. I’m outta here.”
“Lauren. There you are.” Ethan started to shove past West, only to get pushed against the side of the bus. “Get your hands off me.”
Lauren yelped and rushed forward. “No. Don’t. He doesn’t mean to cause any trouble.”
“Yes, I damn well do. A young girl like you, alone on a bus of dirty, disgusting—”
“Watch who you call disgusting, nerd boy.” Molly sailed off the bus, her flawless blond curls rippling on the breeze.
Ethan went still. Probably swallowed his tongue too.
“I was trying to get the rest of my beauty sleep when I heard you yelling about being Professor Ethan Haywood, la-dee-da.” She stepped closer to Ethan and West, causing West to step back with merely an icy glance. “I don’t like being awakened early. It affects my voice.”
“I—I’m sorry. You have to understand, Lauren is my…”
“Friend, isn’t it? At least that’s what I gathered from all the shouting before Denver went to summon security. Who should be back here in oh, two minutes if I don’t call them off. Luckily, we have our own bus brute in Malachi so we don’t need to have bodyguards all over.” She poked Ethan in the chest with one long red nail. “Hmm, not as soft as I thought. Do you work out?”
“Professor doesn’t mean nerd, and it definitely doesn’t mean soft.” The look he gave Molly faintly smoked.
Lauren exchanged glances with West. Okay then. Detour ahead.
“And yes, I work out. Bench two-twenty if you must know. What about you, pop princess?”
“What I do is irrelevant. You’re interrupting my routine. I don’t like it.”
Ethan glanced at Molly for a long, humming moment before shifting his gaze to Lauren. “Are you okay?” he asked quietly, switching his focus to West. “Did he hurt you?”
“No, no, of course not. He’s been a perfect gentleman.” Lauren really hoped she wasn’t blushing. She’d been the one to push him, time and again. “I’m perfectly fine. I shouldn’t have made you worry though. I’m so sorry.” She stepped closer and Molly melted away as if she’d never been between them.
Though she had been. She’d diffused the situation between them as if she was an expert. Even West had backed down from her.
Now she was going back on the bus as if she’d never interrupted.
“You don’t have to lie to me. If you want to get out of here, we can go. I won’t tell your parents.” Ethan paused, his gaze dropping to her shirt. “What is this? What are you wearing?” He touched her shoulder and West stepped forward, his presence silent but deadly.
Knowing he wouldn’t hesitate to strike for her was a crazy, heady thought.
“She’s wearing my shirt,” West said, letting the meaning hang in the air until she ducked her head and Ethan cleared his throat.
“I see. So I really do have no place here. My apologies,” he said stiffly, sidestepping Lauren’s hand as she reached for him.
“Don’t be like that. You don’t understand. It’s not what you’re thinking. Or maybe it is. All I know is that I’m good. I’m finally good,” she said, unable to hold back the plea in her tone when Ethan turned his familiar dark blue eyes her way.
She loved those eyes. Loved him. He’d been her friend and protector for so long, and they rarely fought.
Fighting over the insane bit of happiness she’d stolen seemed so wrong.
“You’re in over your head. You’re so innocent and sweet. So naive. He’s going to hurt you. But I see I may already be too late.” He gave her a thin smile she’d never seen before. “But don’t worry. I’ll still help you pick up the pieces.”
“You’ll help her pick them up so you can get a piece yourself.”
Lauren glanced at West, shocked. “What? No. It’s not like that.”
“Oh, really? Look at that guy, Lo. He’s losing his shit at the idea I’ve touched you.”
When Ethan didn’t argue, she tucked a loose clump of hair behind her ear with a hand that shook. “N-no. We’re just friends. That’s all we’ve ever been.”
“That’s why you live with him.”
“I told you, I just needed a place to stay. It wasn’t planned. He understands. He gets what we’re about.” She grabbed Ethan’s arm to twist him to face them, but he planted his feet and kept his gaze trained resolutely in the other direction. “You do. I know you do. You’ve had all those women over, and you never stayed with any one of them more than a few weeks at a time—”
“Why do you think that might be, Lo?” The sarcastic way he used West’s nickname for her was her undoing.
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