I should push away from that kind of intimacy, but I don't. I nod.
She lets out a tiny sigh of pleasure. "I get to strip you out of your nice clothes."
I turn around so we're face to face. "Is it that exciting?"
She looks up at me with a nod. "Yeah." She slides her hands up my tie and undoes the knot. "You look like such a nice boy in this suit."
"Boy?"
"Man." She pulls my tie from my collar and wraps it around her wrist. "It's hard to explain. You wear that suit. You could easily step into some office and assume the role of boss. But you're Mal—"
"The rock god?"
"Yes, but that's not the first thing I think." She tosses my tie on the bed then undoes the top button of my shirt. Her fingers skim the bare skin of my chest. "You're Mal… my… whatever I should call this." Her eyes fix on mine. "I'm not good with words."
"I get what you mean." I run my fingers through her hair as she works her way down my torso. It feels good, her hands on my skin. Better than it has any right to feel, given our relationship, given the circumstances.
She undoes my belt and pulls it from my slacks. That too, she tosses on the bed.
I shrug off my shirt and step out of my shoes.
She unbuttons my slacks and watches them fall to my feet. Her fingers skim the edges of my boxers. She presses her foot against the ankle of my dress socks. "Just the way I like my men, in socks and underwear."
"It's a sexy look."
"It helps that it's you." Her eyelids flutter together as she rises to her tip toes and presses her lips to mine.
She tastes good and I can feel all this affection pouring from her lips. She presses her hips against mine. It's a soft gesture. An I'm here, not an I need you tearing off my clothes right now.
It's different.
Good.
She pulls back with a sigh and motions to the bathroom door.
I drag my fingertips over the bare skin of her shoulders until I reach the straps of her black dress. I do it again and again, until she's purring. I'm not in any state to issue orders, but I can bring Lacey pleasure.
That makes sense.
I push her strap off her right shoulder. Then the left. She turns around so I can pull her zipper down her back. My fingers trace its line. They draw lazy circles down her spine then back up again.
She lets out a soft sigh as she leans into my touch.
Things click into place as I pull her dress all the way to her toes. As I run my hands over the sides of her calves, her thighs, her hips, her sides.
She sheds her bra and panties.
I peel off my socks and step out of my boxers.
She takes my hand and leads me into the bathroom. It's a small room with a smaller shower. Barely big enough for both of us, but I don't care.
Lacey leans over the tub's railing to run the water. Once it's right, she steps into the shower and motions come here.
I step into the tiny space with her and pull the curtain closed.
There's still concern in her dark eyes. Even as she throws her head back to rinse her hair. Even as she slides her hands up my chest and brings her body into mine.
She leans in to whisper in my ear, "Do you want to talk about it?"
"Yeah." I don't mean to say it, but I do. The words don't dissolve into the running water. They hang between us. Not heavy or light but the exact density of the air. "I knew… when I picked my mom up at the airport, I knew something was wrong."
"You looked worried at dinner." She digs her fingers into my chest. "You do get nervous."
I nod.
She moves closer. "My parents… we aren't close. My mom was manipulative. She did whatever it took to get her way. She still does. And my dad still falls for it. I love them both, but I don't really want to be around them."
"I get that."
"Even so, if one of them was sick… Sorry, I can't be helping, reminding you of that again and again."
"You are."
"I… I guess nobody is good at these situations."
I nod.
"Here. Let me do this, at least." She swaps positions with me so I can rinse my hair. Then she's rising to her tiptoes to run shampoo through my hair.
Her fingers dig into my scalp.
I lean back to rinse my hair then Lacey does the same with conditioner. She takes her time soaping every inch of my skin. She explores my body with her fingers. The heat of her touch makes my skin burn but it's more than sexual.
It's soft.
Intimate.
Loving.
When her lips brush mine again, I know. This is how it always goes. No matter how hard I try, I make a misstep somewhere, and I convince a woman to fall in love with me.
Only, I don't feel that dread I usually do.
My thoughts don't immediately jump to the best way to let her down gently.
Lacey may not love me yet, but it's going that way.
And I want that.
I want her.
Even if it's terrifying.
I can't whisper sweet nothings in her ear. I can't even make sense of the thoughts swirling around my head.
My tongue dances with hers. One hand goes to her hips. The other goes to her breast and plays with her nipple.
She groans back into my mouth.
She bucks her hips against mine.
I drag my fingertips over her stomach and below her belly button.
The pad of my thumb brushes against her clit.
She nips at my lip.
This feels right. I'm in charge of her pleasure. That's something. Some tiny way the world can make sense.
I stroke her as I kiss her. I should draw it out. I should torture her. But I need her groans against my skin.
I need to hear her come.
I make my touch harder. Faster.
Lacey's nails dig into my skin. She breaks from our kiss to stare back at me. Her brown eyes are wrecked with need.
And with affection.
"Fuck, Mal." Her eyelids flutter closed. Her legs shake as she rocks her hips.
I pin her to the wall to keep her upright. "I've got you, baby." I drag my lips over her neck and I stoke her until she's shaking.
Until she's groaning my name loud enough the neighbors are pounding against the wall.
Until she's raking her nails over my back as she comes on my hand.
She lets out a heavy breath. Takes a slow inhale. Her fingers trail their way up my back and neck. They dig at my hair.
Her lips hover over my ear. "Mal… I…"
I'm not ready for anything but Mal, I need you inside me. I bring my hands to her hips. "Turn around."
She does.
"Hands on the wall above you."
She lets out a soft moan as she drags her hands up the tile. Her ass presses against my cock as she shifts into position. Something in her posture changes to make her pliable.
She's offering her body to me.
That's all I can take from her.
It doesn't matter how badly I want more.
I bring my hands to her hips and pull her body onto mine. She shakes as my tip strains against her.
Slowly, I slide inside her.
Fuck, she feels good. Soft. Warm. Mine.
It's complicated. Messy. I can't dive into it. Not with everything swirling around my head.
I let my eyelids press together as I drive into her.
I push my thoughts away until the entire world is our bodies.
I keep one hand around her waist to hold her body against mine. I bring the other between her legs and I stroke her until she's groaning and panting like she feels so good she can't take it.
Fuck. She feels so good I can't take it.
This is something between fucking and making love. Something soft and intimate. Some experience I don't know but want very fucking badly.
I drive into her with slow, steady pumps.
I rub her with slow, steady strokes.
I get lost in the sounds of
her groans and the pleasure spreading through my body.
She rocks her hips. Her ass rubs against my pelvis as she drives me deeper.
I sink my fingers into her hips. Fuck, she feels good.
She rocks harder.
I drive deeper.
Pleasure pushes out every other thought in my head. A few more thrusts and I'm there. My cock pulses as I come inside her.
I groan her name.
I hold her body against mine.
Once I've spilled every drop, I bring her upright and turn her around.
Lacey looks up at me, her brown eyes filled with that beautiful mix of desire and satisfaction.
I pin her to the wall and I kiss her.
My body fills with her affection.
Even as I slide my hand between her legs and stroke her to orgasm, I feel her affection more than I feel her desire.
And I crave every fucking drop of it.
27
Mal
I fall asleep with Lacey in my arms and I wake rested.
I'm as close to happy as I can be right now.
It's more terrifying in the light of morning, but I can't bring myself to question it. Everything is already heavy and messy. I can't take more.
I brush my teeth and dress in last night's clothes.
Lacey stirs. She stretches her arms over her head as she yawns. Her brown eyes fix on me. Her lips curl into a smile. "It's been a long time since I've had a guy at my place."
"Didn't you live with your ex for years?"
She nods. "That was our place."
"Still…"
"I've got it on the technicality." She pushes herself out of bed. "You look good in that suit, even with the shirt a little wrinkled."
"Is it a suit without a jacket?"
"You're asking the filmmaker about suits?"
"As opposed to the rock star."
"Okay, fair." She tilts her head as she gives me a long once-over. "You have to go?"
"Soon."
Something fills her eyes—something I can't place. "Can I buy you breakfast first?"
"You're buying me breakfast?"
"As long as it won't make you feel cheap." She presses her lips into a smile, but there's something missing. Last night is hanging heavy over both of us.
"Depends where we're going."
"Shit. There go my plans of drive-through egg sandwiches." She takes a step towards the bathroom. "I know a good place. Give me ten minutes."
Even though I should get home, I nod.
She smiles and my shoulders relax. I don't want to be home. The truth is, the place in Huntington Beach doesn't feel like home anymore. Not with my parents in it. Not without Piper and Ethan.
Not with this hanging over everything.
I find my cell—it skidded to the spot under Lacey's desk last night—and boot it up. There's nothing from Mom and Dad. That shouldn't surprise me. That shouldn't sting.
But it does.
I have a few texts from Piper and Ethan.
Piper: I'm sorry about last night. You're not a fool, Mal. I hate seeing Mom and Dad put your heart in a blender every time they visit, but you aren't a fool for caring. It's sweet. But you should know, I don't need Mom and Dad here for us to be a family.
Ethan: This is fucked, huh?
I text him back right away.
Mal: Yeah. Is Vi okay?
Ethan: Surprised, but okay. Since Asher… she's not great with death.
Mal: Ironic, considering.
Ethan: Don't mention that to her. She doesn't appreciate the irony of the goth babe being skittish about death.
The bathroom door clicks open. Lacey moves into the main room and wrestles with her dresser.
Ethan: You okay?
It's rare anyone asks me that. I'm the one who holds shit together. I'm the one who asks people if they're okay.
Mal: Right now.
Ethan: You with Lacey?
Mal: Yeah.
Ethan: I know you hate advice, but this is one place where I actually know more than you.
Mal: And?
Ethan: Asher's death was what destroyed me and Vi the first time and we had three years together. We were young and stupid and I know you'd never be stupid.
Mal: Why do I detect sarcasm?
Ethan: I won't ask if it's serious, because I know you'll deny it. Don't make her guess if you need her. With Vi, I was stupid. I let my ego get in the way. I let my hurt get in the way. Don't do that. If you're serious about her, she's going to be your fucking lifeline.
Damn, he's a romantic. But then I can't argue with his reasoning. Ethan's been through this before, only on the other side.
He lost the woman he loved because grief swallowed her whole.
He's already talking like Mom is dead.
Am I a fucking fool for believing there are any other possibilities?
It's a ten-minute drive to a cozy brunch spot by the beach. Heads turn when Lacey and I walk in. Not because I'm famous or because her ass is perfect.
She's wearing last night's dress and heels—she insisted it was only fair, since I was in last night's slacks.
We're the one-night stand turned breakfast.
We're perfect gossip fodder for every person here.
The hostess smiles as she grabs menus. "Something on the patio, maybe? It's romantic."
"Romantic is perfect." Lacey winks up at me. "Don't you think, uh… it was something with an M?"
I chuckle as I slide my hand to her ass. "You don't remember? You were screaming it all night."
The hostess blushes. "Right this way."
"Oh… like the Jurassic Park guy? Ian, right?" Lacey teases.
"Close."
"Jeff?"
"Almost."
"Oh… Malcolm." She hip checks me. "It's kind of a mouthful."
I wink at the hostess as she points to our seats. Her cheeks flame red. She stammers as she hands over our menus and mumbles something about our server being over shortly.
"Oh." Lacey hides behind her menu. "I didn't say it that way on purpose."
I glance at the menu. It's the usual breakfast stuff. It's less interesting than Lacey.
Slowly, she places her menu flat on the table and traces the restaurant's heart logo with her finger. "You think we look like a couple who's going to make it?"
"What does that look like?"
"I don't know. Adam and I… we didn't have any sort of exciting beginning. We didn't have a good story—we met in a class. But everyone thought we looked right together."
"You have a picture?"
"No, but I can find one." She looks up at me. "Do you want to see that?"
"I'm curious."
She pulls out her cell and taps the screen a few times. It takes her a minute to find something. When she does, she places the phone on the table facing me.
They do look right together. He's about her height, average build, with short brown hair and honey eyes. They're on the top of a hill. He's got his arms around her. She's in front of him, smiling at the camera. They look happy. Sweaty, but happy.
"That was a week before I broke up with him." She pulls her cell back. "I was thinking about it the entire hike. We'd been watching TV that morning. Well, I'd been watching and he was ignoring it. He's not really a TV person. Which is fine—"
"It is?"
"Okay, it's a problem, but the worse problem was that he'd agreed to give the show a shot then he was sitting there ignoring it. And I got pissed. I'd tried, hard, to find something we could watch together. And I ended up picking something I didn't even like."
"What show?"
"One of those superhero shows on the CW. Arrow, I think. I don't even remember. I just wanted to get us together on the couch so maybe I could touch him and he'd touch me. But he was sitting on the opposite side of the couch, looking at his phone. He wasn't there with me and he was never going to be there with me. And it hit me at that moment, that realization that it was going to be like this forever. It wasn't
the first time it hit me. It was probably the four hundredth time. But I felt it so palpably that I couldn't even get this one little thing to work." Her eyes go to the table. "The whole drive there, the entire hike… even while we were taking this picture, I was thinking this is fucked. I had to make the picture better. I had to convince myself."
"You look happy."
"I know."
"You're a good actress."
"Maybe." She turns her phone over and traces the logo on the back. "I think of it more as… I was good at lying to myself for a long time."
"Do you believe he loved you?"
"Yes, he still does." She presses her lips together. "Sex just isn't important to him. To him, sex or no sex is the difference between a rich loose leaf English breakfast or a bag of Lipton tea. Sure, he likes the English breakfast, but the Lipton tea has caffeine. It's warm. It's tea."
"Your relationship was shitty tea?"
"Give me a break. I'm not the lyricist." She smiles but there's a sadness to it. "We're supposed to be talking about your parents."
"I like this topic better."
She looks up at me. "I'm sure there was more to it, more he wouldn't tell me. But what could I do? I tried talking to him. I tried waiting. Nothing worked."
"He was wrong. You're fucking irresistible. I'll say it as many times as I have to." I look back at her. "Are you happier now?"
She searches my expression for something. When she finds it, she swallows hard and sits back in her chair. "I'm happy. I'm aching for you, Mal, but I am happy."
Our waitress interrupts to drop off waters and take our orders. Lacey gets blueberry pancakes. I get a vegetable omelet, with sliced tomatoes instead of toast. She smiles of course you're skipping the carbs.
She looks good in her cocktail dress. I was too wrecked to fully appreciate it last night. It hugs her chest and waist in a way that begs for my hands.
She's wearing that same red lipstick she was wearing last night.
It makes her look mature. Adult. Like a woman who knows what she wants and goes after it.
"I miss Adam sometimes," she says. "He was my best friend for a long time, and with Carrie in grad school in New York, I don't really have a lot of local friends."
"You miss the familiarity?"
She nods.
"You're brave."
"You…" Her voice is soft. "What are you thinking, about your mom?"
Dangerous Fling: A Rock Star Romance (Dangerous Noise Book 4) Page 21
