by Quinn, Cari
It was addictive. The way she opened for me, the way she vised down on me before she broke, and the way she finally let go. I could live to be ninety and never get sick of watching her amber eyes go blind.
I pulled her up and off me, hissing at how much I missed her heat for the moments it took to turn her around at the top of the chaise. She rested an elbow on the headrest and the other on the arm as I pinned her into the corner.
“Hold on,” I breathed into her ear.
She darted a look over her shoulder, her smudged eyes slumberous from her release.
“Three isn’t enough.”
She sagged.
I wasn’t sure seven would be enough.
If we kept this up, we’d kill each other before dawn.
I knelt behind her, dragging the head of my cock through her soaked pussy before slipping inside of her. I snapped my hips forward. She took all of me with a low groan.
Fuck.
I was used to being so careful.
She was so tight, I was afraid I’d hurt her, but she pushed back on me. She arched even more when I pulled on her hair. She took everything and I kept digging deeper to find more.
I wanted to give her more.
I turned her head, latching my mouth onto hers as I drove her into the couch. I didn’t have to worry about hurting her here. I could temper my strokes, though it became harder and harder to do the more she yelled for me.
“Harder,” she shouted.
Startled, I pounded into her until my spine screamed for mercy. My knees dented the couch as I angled up. She squeezed around me, her breaths coming fast.
My body didn’t cooperate this time.
I had to come.
It had been too long, too much teasing, too much Kenny. I’d held off as long as I could.
I reached around her, strumming my fingers in circles over her tight clit. “Let go,” I growled into her ear.
She clawed at my hand, digging into my wrist. I didn’t stop.
She shuddered, her walls milking me in time with her racing heart that slammed through her back to my chest.
I finally came with her cries echoing in my ears, settling into my brain.
She was still shaking when I pulled out and tied off the condom. I scooped her up into my arms, dropping the condom in the trash on my way across the suite.
“Hunter.” She gripped my shoulder. “Put me down.”
“I hit four. The least I can do is carry you to bed.”
She dropped her head onto my shoulder with a groaning laugh. “Obsessed.”
I laughed. Shudders and a moan were her only response when I rolled her under the duvet, curling myself around the back of her. I buried my face in her orange blossom-scented hair.
I didn’t want to miss a moment of the night, but the endless day caught up to me and dragged me under like the tide. Sleep was a wall I couldn’t avoid.
We woke in the night. Laughter and a mini-fridge raid ended in creative uses for a Hershey bar. Who knew you could use the corner of a square to draw on skin?
I drank wine off her skin and teased her into a laugh-filled orgasm number five, and a sixth was shouted into the tiles of the shower.
The fingers of dawn left me restless. Kenny was sleeping against my side, her cheek pressed to my chest, her auburn hair tumbled across my belly. I’d been dreading the morning.
I knew she was going to slip away, hoping to make the morning after as quick and painless as ripping off a Band-Aid.
Maybe if I stayed awake long enough, I could find a way to convince her that one night wasn’t nearly enough. Or maybe if I woke her up and reminded her what time away from this room could be like, she’d forget about goodbyes.
I slipped out from under her. She curled her fingers into the sheets, her hand smoothing over the bed. Was she reaching for me?
I unzipped my suitcase and pulled out a pair of workout shorts, muscle shirt, a ball cap, and sunglasses. The easiest disguises were usually the ones that worked the best.
I quickly dressed, retrieved her underwear that I hijacked, and one of my black dress shirts. I sat next to her, and coasted my hand down her back. Smooth and perfect, her skin was pale and lightly freckled in all the best places.
A few on the bridge of her nose, a scatter along the nape of her neck, and a trio at her left hip. I’d spent forever connecting her freckles with a chocolate square with my tongue as a chaser.
I tugged the sheet lower. Her delectable ass was made for biting, but I resisted. Instead I brought my hand down with a light tap.
She rolled onto her side.
I laughed. I was learning that Kenny liked her sleep.
I leaned down, following my first instinct and bit her cheek. She moaned and pushed my face away.
“Broken. Sleeping,” she mumbled into her pillow. “I don’t care about seven anymore. Tired.”
I laughed harder. “Wakey, wakey.”
“Fuck off.”
My eyebrows shot up. Yeah, definitely liked her sleep. I rolled her over, but couldn’t quite ignore her petal pink nipple. Just a shade darker than her skin, the same color as her lips, and her perfect pussy.
I swirled my tongue around the tip until it tightened. “It’s morning,” I said against her skin.
She moaned and slid her fingers up my neck, frowning when she got to the band of my hat. She peered around me. “5:47?” She met my gaze. “Really?”
“I want some time with you before the world wakes up.”
She put my hand on her boob. “Time away—right here.”
I shook my head. “Outside.”
“Nooo. Here.” Her nipple burned into my palm and I couldn’t help but cup it just the way she liked. I expected the need for gentle—hell, I wanted to give her gentle, but she ignited under a rougher touch.
I lowered to her breast again, sucking the tip until her skin went rosy and hot before I released it with a pop.
Her eyes closed with a blissful moan. “See. Much better than out there. Warmer. More naked.” She slipped her hand into my shorts and curled around me unerringly. Already half-hard, it didn’t take much more than a stroke.
She twisted around the head with just the right amount pressure, and I wavered. I could probably play overachiever and give her eleven orgasms before we needed to check out. Hell, I could take over the suite for a week and never tire of her.
But exhaustion plucked at my edges. If I passed out—even for a quick restorative nap—she’d disappear on me. I knew it deep in my bones.
I pulled her hand out of my shorts, and dragged her up and off the bed. She stuck out her lower lip. “Sadist.”
“It’ll be an adventure.”
“The last time you told me that I was trapped in a truck.”
“And we had fun.”
She pushed her hair out of her face with a snort. Her gaze drifted to the end of the bed. “Oh, so now I get them back?”
I shrugged. “Knowing you, they are part of a set.”
“Did I mention I hate you?”
I laughed. “A time or two.”
“Hmm.” She rose and grabbed her panties and my shirt, then turned away with a small huff. On her way to the bathroom, she snatched her wallet off the chaise. “There better be a toothbrush in this palatial bathroom,” she said and shut the door.
I dug out my phone to make sure there wasn’t anything pressing. My calendar was full of interviews and a few radio spots in the afternoon, but the morning blissfully empty.
Indie was no dummy. She knew the hangovers would be epic today. Mine was a sex hangover, one that I never wanted a cure for.
The door opened a few minutes later, and she peeked out. My shirt hit her knees, and she’d cinched it at her waist with something magical she’d probably found in her mini-purse. Her hair was piled up on top of her head in a messy knot, and she’d washed away the last of her makeup.
She looked unbelievably young.
I crossed the room to her, dragging her out. “I think
my shirt is longer than your dress last night.”
“Because you’re freakishly large.”
“No, that’s Wyatt.”
“Yeah, well…close enough.” She smoothed her hand down the line of buttons. Her nipples were still hard, pushing at the linen material. “Where are you taking me?”
“Rooftop.”
“Humans go there, you know. I hear there’s a crazy breakfast served and everything.”
“There’s a separate dining area.”
One eyebrow arched. “Done this before?”
My gut twisted. I had. Thanks to Tristan, I’d spent quite a bit of time at this particular hotel. Some with female companionship, some because of late night cooking lessons and three too many craft beers to drive myself home.
She held up her hand. “Never mind. Forget I mentioned it.” Her face brightened into the PR smile.
I hated that smile. I wanted the smirky one back. It was my own fault for tripping up, but I didn’t want to lie. I wasn’t an innocent by any stretch of the imagination, but that made this far more important. I knew this was different.
I’d succumbed to infatuation, lust, and fought my way free of undeserving devotion. My field of play was extensive. Being thirty-two—and living in LA for the last ten of those years—was like living two lifetimes.
I knew there was something special between us, knew it as surely as a lyric that belonged in a song. But as with all good songs, I needed time to figure out the melody and chords.
I was learning her chords, but the rest of her was still a puzzle I had to put together. And I couldn’t do it if she pushed me out of her life.
“Just give me the morning.”
Her eyes softened. “Some of us can’t play hooky. I have to get back to my apartment to get ready. I have clients.”
“An hour.”
She stepped into her heels. “All right. But I’m keeping this shirt.”
I grinned down at her. “Well, now that you put boob prints on it I can’t wear it anyway.”
Her lips twitched. “Boob prints, huh?”
“Oh yeah. Looks better on you anyway.”
“Yeah?”
“Definitely.”
She twirled for me once and the smirky smile was back. This time a dimple bracketed each side. Unable to resist her, I lowered to her mouth. She tasted of honey and mint. The kiss deepened quickly. I had a hard time resisting her in the best of circumstances.
A huge bed with twisted sheets behind us was testing all of my willpower. With a groan, I tore my mouth away from hers and turned her toward the door.
“Why are we leaving again?”
Because I’m an idiot.
“The day awaits.”
“It better include coffee, pal.”
I linked our fingers, and led her down the hallway to the stairwell. We were only two floors away from the rooftop. The corner near the pool had the occasional waitstaff setting down chairs for the breakfast crowd. A lone swimmer was doing laps in the pool.
It was mostly empty, and blissfully quiet.
Deep streaks of pink and red faded into a peachy yellow sky as dawn crept across Los Angeles. As I’d hoped, Kenny went for the half wall beyond the theater doors.
She gripped the cement ledge and leaned over for a better look. I slid my arm around her waist. “That’s what I wanted to see.”
She glanced over her shoulder at me. “I forgive you for dragging me out of bed.”
I rested my chin on top of her head. “Whenever I come to the Ace, I always end up here.”
“With how many women?”
I lowered my mouth to her shoulder. “This view? This spot? No one. Just you.”
“Oh.” She slid her hand along my forearm. “It’s stupid to keep mentioning your past. I’m sorry. It’s none of my business.”
“It is your business.” I flicked a button open at her midriff to get to her skin. She shuddered under the first stroke of my thumb along her hipbone. I didn’t move, even when she shifted under my hold.
She leaned back against me. “This was supposed to just be fun.”
“Can’t deny the fun,” I said.
She fiddled with her little purse. “No.”
“Can we just see how things go?”
She was quiet and still. I continued to stroke her skin. I wanted her to become so used to my touch that walking away wouldn’t be an option.
I’d made a mess of my relationship with Victoria. I’d wanted to fix her, to take care of her, but I’d never looked beyond my need for someone to need me.
Kenny was different. Twenty-four hours with her and I knew that.
I was different with her.
She lifted her hand to my cheek, her fingernails grazing through my beard. “A day at a time, Hunter.”
I lowered my chin to her shoulder. I couldn’t ask for more.
Sixteen
Kennedy
I didn’t know what to do with this new information. My body was still sore from a night with him, my skin still buzzing from his touch. I expected to have to deal with that.
Not for him to want more.
I was prepared to play the girlfriend for the good of the cause. Not to audition for the role in reality.
I turned in his arms. The city I’d grown to love at my back, and a larger-than-life man at my front. For the first time in my life, I didn’t know what to do.
I didn’t have a plan.
He cupped my cheek. “Stop thinking.”
“It’s what I do, Hunter. I think. I’m sorry I’m not like the women you’re used to.”
His eyes were a clear slate gray in the early morning light. There was a fierceness in them that I recognized from the stage. Absolute clarity that I didn’t understand. “When you find someone you want to be with, you shouldn’t have to think about it.”
“Yeah, well, I do.”
“Why?”
“Because you don’t fit.”
He laughed. “I fit just fine last night.”
I flushed. “You know what I mean.”
“No, I don’t. I know that I want to spend more time with you. I know that last night was amazing.”
“That was an anomaly.” I buttoned my borrowed shirt. My skin was still tingling from his easy affection. Again, I’d let him get way too familiar with me in public.
“Then I guess we’ll see tonight.”
I frowned. “What? Why?”
“You’re my girlfriend, right?”
My stomach pitched. I wasn’t his anything.
“You were with me when we were talking to Lila. Ripper Records wants to keep that up, remember?” He grinned. “Maybe you don’t. You were pounding wine at the time.”
All of the professionalism, that was me. Oy. I nodded. “Yes. Of course, I remember.” It was my job to be his girlfriend. Relief left me light-headed. This I understood. Lies and spin—they were the commodities that I was comfortable with.
“I have some interviews to do today, but tonight there’s a party at Enigma.”
I vaguely remembered reading about it on my press packet, but last night was supposed to be where my job ended. I was trying to picture Hunter at the re-imagined Art Deco club that had opened earlier this year. “Not exactly your scene.”
“No, but the owner is friends with Keys.” He shrugged. “I can do shots anywhere.” He curled his fingers around my hip, drawing me against him. “You could wear something like last night maybe? I have a healthy respect for garters.”
“I bet.”
He shrugged. “Just sayin’.”
Hunter was like an octopus when I got near him. I wasn’t sure I would be able to survive a noisy club with him. Maybe we’d just hang out in the VIP area. I could handle that. “You dance?”
He grinned down at me. “Not really, but I would brave the dance floor to get you in my arms again.”
“I don’t know, Hunter.”
“Just make an appearance.” He slid his knee between my thighs. “A few pictu
res, a few kisses, and you’ll fulfill your duties. Of course, I’ll try to get you to stay for more. They have a damn good DJ who’s supposed to play a few crazy mixes of our songs.”
My duty. I had a lot to make up for.
“All right. But you’ll have to do me a favor.”
“Name it.”
“Add Bethany Jacobs to the guest list.”
He dug out his phone, typed for a second, then dropped it back in his pocket. “Done.”
“Just like that?”
He shrugged.
“Do you even know who she is?”
“I’m assuming one of your clients.”
I stepped back and folded my arms. “Yes. If I have to try to do these public girlfriend duties, then I’ll need to cram in work into my social engagements.”
“Cram, huh?”
I rolled my eyes and moved away from him. “I need coffee.”
He caught up to me, laying a hand on my lower back. “The lounge has a continental breakfast. Good coffee, too.”
I tightened my grip on my elbows. No makeup, and sex hair with a man’s shirt as my wardrobe. Everyone would know what I’d done last night.
Hell, our whole floor probably knew what we’d done last night. The old hotel wasn’t exactly soundproofed. But I was too tired and keyed up to turn down breakfast.
There were a handful of people in the eclectic sunroom by the pool, but no one seemed to pay us any mind. Hunter waved to one of the waitresses as he led me to the back where there was an L-shaped seating area. He sat down with his back to the windows, his eyes taking in the entire room.
Did he want to be seen?
When a voluptuous brunette sauntered over to us, I rolled my eyes. She ignored me, making a beeline for Hunter. “Welcome, Mr. Jordan.” Her skin was flawless even at this obscene hour, and her voice was the perfect blend of baby doll and phone sex operator.
She probably practiced in the mirror daily.
“Morning,” his eyes drifted to her tag, “Holly.”
“Can I get you something?”
He glanced at me. “Anything with your coffee?”
“A small grapefruit juice and a spinach egg white omelet.”
“You know what, that sounds good to me, too. I’ll take pineapple juice instead.”
“Two coffees, two spinach egg white omelets, and two pineapple juices. Got it.”
