JAGGED: A Rockstar Romance

by Vivian Lux

  "Crazy?" he supplied.

  "That's one word for it."

  "Oh aye," he said softly, reaching out to touch my face. "But I'm crazy for you, love, so..."

  My breath caught in my throat as he brushed his lips across mine. Such a small motion, almost chaste, but fireworks exploded up my spine all the same. The sensation sent me upward onto my toes, seeking and then finding his mouth more deeply. He groaned against my lips, his fingers sinking into the flesh above my hipbones, his own hips arching forward. I could feel the press of his length against my stomach and it did something to me because suddenly I flung myself against him, needing to feel the full length of his body against mine.

  "Steady love," he murmured against my neck. "We've got all night."

  I stepped back, staring him down. "All night?"

  "Aye," he rumbled. "Now that I've finally got you, I plan on taking my time with you." He bent to kiss me again, another soft brush that had me moaning in frustration, as the door dinged open. "I can't wait to hear you beg me to come." He planted another kiss at my jaw as my breath caught. "And I can't wait to hear you beg me to let you stop."

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Ewan

  I felt a strange, sudden rush of nerves as she stepped into my apartment. She looked around, sharp eyes taking in the white walls, the un-sat on sofa slung with a stupid looking fur throw. The bowl of fresh apples on the countertop that on second glance proved to be plastic fakes. These were all things I'd looked past for the few months I'd lived here. But now I wondered how it looked to her. The sterile, impersonal space was clearly the work of some unseen decorator and not my own hand. This place wasn't "home" to me. It was a place to fall asleep at night, nothing more. I hadn't had a "home" in a long, long time.

  I normally didn't give a shit about how my rented apartment looked, but now suddenly I did. "This is just a temporary place," I explained to her as she turned in a slow circle in the white space of my kitchen. "I rented it when we finished the tour. Short term."

  She turned with a relieved smile. "So, you're telling me I shouldn't be snooping around here for clues to tell me who you really are?"

  I shook my head, struck dumb by how fucking gorgeous she was.

  "How will I know who you truly are then?" she teased.

  I licked my lips and swallowed hard to regain my powers of speech. "Oh, I don't know, lass. There are a couple of different tricks you could try."

  Her eyes darted down to the crotch of my pants and then back up again, just a little wider. "Tricks, huh?" she said with an arched brow. "Is that what you call it?"

  "Aye. Want to know the easiest way?"

  "Tell me."

  I narrowed my eyes. "You could ask me."

  She tilted her head. Her dark eyes looked like they could see right through me. "Okay then," she said, with a lift of her chin. "I'm asking. What's the most important thing I should know about you?"

  I rubbed my finger along my jaw. "Good fucking question," I mused, stalling for time.

  She nodded crisply. "Thank you. Now you need to answer it."

  I smiled, letting loose the grin I knew made my stupid dimple work in my favor. "The most important thing you should know about me is that I know six different ways of making you come with my left hand only."

  "Only the left hand, huh?"

  I nodded firmly. "My right hand can manage about eight."

  I saw her catch herself to keep from laughing and instead she rolled her eyes with a toss of her head. It was my turn to chuckle. "Nothing? Last time I talked shite like that you poured cold water on my head. You're a tough nut to crack love."

  She looked around the space again and hugged her arms to her chest. She seemed to shrink a little as she said, "Not so tough." Her voice sounded far away. "I'm here, aren't I?"

  I stepped toward her. "Aye," I said, reaching for her. "And the most important thing for you to know right now is that I will be careful with you love." I needed her to understand. "I know you're fighting this. I don't quite know why, but I figure you'll tell me your reasons when you're ready." She looked up at me, and her hands unclenched from her arms and drifted down to her sides nodded. "Until that time, I just need you to know that you can trust me."

  My mind flashed back to Jane. How I wished she had trusted me. Not like how I wanted CeCe to trust me, but to be worthy of that confidence. "Please," I nearly begged her. "Know that you can trust me."

  "I do," she said, stepping forward. I held her lightly as she swayed. Almost like she was dancing. "And it scares me," she whispered. "But I do."

  I bent my head to hers. "Aye lass," I whispered as I kissed her. "It scares me too." The slide of her tongue against mine felt differently now. Like there was more to it than just pure lust. I wrapped my arms tightly around her and felt the tug of a smile that she was in them. "Lucky thing though..." I mused.

  "What's that?" The way her eyes were shining would be my undoing.

  I slid my hands down to cup her ass, pressing her close to me, letting her feel how much I wanted her. "I've played for crowds fifty-thousand strong. I've gone skinny-dipping in the fjords in Norway. I've gone sky-diving in France. And in Arizona." I kissed her again. "I like things doing things that scare me. They are the things that are most worth doing."

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Celia

  I closed my eyes and exhaled a jagged breath. Since the moment he'd first kissed me outside of the warehouse, a tornado had been spinning inside of my head. Ewan was right, I was fighting this as hard as I possibly could and why? There was something in my brain, echoes of my protests and shreds of my reasons. Something about being taken seriously, and my career and worry worry worry. I was dizzy, and off-kilter, fighting this semi-drunk sensation all this time.

  Until the moment he confessed that he, he, was scared too.

  He was scared, but his hands were on my face, his blue eyes searching and scanning for something he wasn't seeing yet.

  And I? I was here.

  Here.

  In his apartment. With him.

  I came willingly because, even though I was scared, I needed to know...

  "Was that song just for me?" I heard myself say.

  The question fell out of my mouth with no thought behind it, just a desperate, yearning feeling. He drew back, hands still on my face and a slow smile tugged at his mouth.

  "Is that what you need to know?" he wondered.

  I didn't understand that it was. Not until he asked that.

  "Yes," I said with a slow nod and then pressed my lips together to keep the flood of questions from pouring out. Are you just pretending to get into my pants because you're a rockstar and you can play me like an instrument or do you feel this...whatever it is, do you feel it too?

  His eyes darted to the side like he'd heard me and then he nodded once. "Aye lass, it's just for you." He leaned over and places a delicate, feathery kiss on the angle of my jaw. I closed my eyes. "It's about you." Another kiss on my eyelid. "It's you," he kissed my cheek, "and it's been you since the day I got your pretty, pert little ass fired." I burst out laughing, and he silenced me with a kiss. "It's you," he murmured against my lips.

  "Me," I breathed hardly daring to believe him and yet believing him with my whole heart.

  He twined his fingers in my hair, tugging gently. "Look at me."

  I blinked up at him. His face was so close I could only see it in small parts, the curve of his smile, the stubble on his cheek. "You want me to kiss you?" he asked.

  I narrowed my eyes at him. Hadn't been what we've been doing all this time? "Yes," I exhaled impatiently.

  He nodded slowly. "And you want me to lie you down, and make you come with my tongue?"

  I nodded, breath coming faster now, watching him carefully as his eyes darted over my face.

  "And you want me to fuck you, don't you lass?"

  His filthy language clanged inside is my core like a bell. I was no shrinking violet, but the way the word fuck sounded in his lilt
ing brogue made it all the more filthy and enticing.

  "Don't just nod at me, lass. I want to hear you. Last time I made you come, you were too quiet." He leaned over, brushing his lips past my ear. "I want to hear you scream. I wrote a song for you. I want you to sing one for me."

  At that, his fingers slid down, under my waistband. My breath hitched and I sucked in my stomach and that little extra space that I gave him seem to be all he needed to plunge his hand down into my panties. "So wet already," he murmured against my neck. "And that's all just from talking. How wet are you going to be when my tongue is flicking inside of you?"

  A shuddering moan escaped my lips, and he chuckled. "Almost," he said with a growl. "But I don't want you moaning, I want you screaming."

  I snaked my hands up his naked chest, trailing my fingers over that lion tattoo before clasping them behind his neck. "What about you?" I wondered. "What kind of noises do you make?"

  He spun me gently, taking a step with each word of reply. "I don't rightly know, to be honest." He looked down at me. "I tend to be more caught up in what the lady sounds like."

  "What if I did this?" I slid my hand down to cup the shape of him through his jeans.

  He let out a low breath and I smiled. "No scream? No song for me?"

  "We both know I'm a shite lead singer," he deadpanned.

  I laughed and the back of my legs caught, sending me toppling back onto his unseen bed. The sheets were cool against my skin, and Ewan landed with his hands planted on either side of me. For a moment he just gazed down at me, eyes flicking everywhere as if he was trying to take in everything at once. I reached up and pressed my palms against his chest, feeling his heartbeat under my fingertips. I expected it to be racing as fast as mine was, but it was beating with slow, steady precision. And I realized that while I knew he would take care of me, protect me, that I could trust him through and through...

  I was not the one in control here.

  The thought rippled through me like a pebble thrown in the center of a still pond. I shivered as he knelt above me, his fingers sliding up, lifting my shirt delicately but with firm resolve. His blue eyes were so dark in the low light of the bedroom they were pools of almost black.

  I allowed him to lift my shirt away and then laid back again, feeling the cool of his sheets under my suddenly overheated skin. When his fingers sought the zipper of my jeans, I felt my hips lift as if of their own accord. He tugged my panties down with them, letting them fall to the floor, leaving me completely exposed to him. When he reached underneath me to unfasten my bra, I felt a frisson of fear up my spine because, while I liked to think I was experienced in the ways of men, never had I been with one so willing to take his time with me. And never had I been undressed with such care and deliberation by a still nearly full-clothed man, either. The effect was a strange one, making me feel both powerless and powerful at the very same time.

  When I was completely naked, I expected him to make a dive for the space between my legs the way he had in my bathroom. But Ewan seemed bound and determined to surprise me tonight. Because instead of moving down, instead he knelt up again and just....looked at me.

  A desperate need to fill the silence rose in my belly. I bit my lip so hard I tasted blood in an effort to hold back the smart remarks, the disparaging comments about my body, the suspicions that he did this with all the girls. Because somehow I knew that he didn't.

  After gazing at me for seemingly forever, he reached down to trace a finger along my breastbone, down the center of my belly to my navel and then back up again. His touch rippled outward like the trails of a sparkler burning colors into the night. The sparks reached my nipples which suddenly felt heavy and overripe, begging to be nibbled and sucked.

  "The first time I saw you," Ewan said. His voice was thick and hoarse. "I guessed at what your body would look like underneath that business suit. I had a picture in my head..." His voice caught and he bent to kiss my navel before dragging his tongue back up the line his finger had just carved in my skin. "But it's clear I don't have a good enough imagination. Celia, you are exquisite."

  I shivered a little. With the way he was looking at me, I had no choice but to believe him. I whispered a rasping, "Thanks," as I watched him, completely rapt.

  He groaned a little at that, humming against my nipple. A little shriek caught in my throat as he drew the peak into his mouth, curling his tongue around the tightening skin. Where his touch had felt like sparkler before, now it was a firework, exploding out in neon petals. A soft sound like "Ah!" fell from my lips and he hummed his approval of that before kissing his way down to the valley between my breasts before climbing back up to the other side. "Ah!" I cried again, only this time it ended in a small mewling, "eee!" and he pulled back up to smile down at me.

  "I like your music, lass. Let's get you singing a little louder." His finger trailed down the center of my stomach before sliding down into my slick heat. I wasn't even sure of the noise I made that time because I felt like I'd left my body and gone flying around the room, but from somewhere outside of myself I felt rather than heard Ewan's growl of approval. He knelt upward, impatiently nudging my legs open, pressing the insides of my thighs with his palms to spread me wider, wider, wide open for him.

  The noise he made when his tongue made contact with my clit might have been enough to send me over the edge. It was that raw, that powerful, that insanely sexy with its animal undertone. I stiffened and then fell back, my body melting into the sheets in sheer relief. Because even though I'd been fighting against this feeling for a week now, my body remembered exactly what it was like to have Ewan's mouth on me. Every lick, every suck, every greedy little kiss was forever etched into my skin like a tattoo.

  "Sing for me," he murmured, barely intelligible because his face was buried between my legs. His tongue, his fingers, his humming sounds all combined together into a sensory overload. I could feel him on me, around me, above me and inside of me and when the flat of his tongue pushed up against my overloaded clit it was like a fucking bomb went off under my skin and suddenly I was screaming just like he had promised me.

  My skin was flushed and electric, every touch of his sending another wave crashing over me. I was made of fireworks and sparklers and fucking lightning itself, and he still wasn't done, just losing himself in me as I lost myself in the insanity of what he was doing to me.

  I pushed up into his tongue, needing more and then suddenly I pushed my feet into the bed and arched away from him, flopping over to my side and crying, "Too much!"

  Immediately the warm curl of his body enveloped mine from behind, holding me closely as I slowly climbed back down from the clouds. His arms were around me loosely enough, but their weight was undeniable, and while I should have felt claustrophobic to be pinned like this, instead I felt nothing more than safe. For a moment there was nothing but the sound of our breathing and my own heartbeat in my ears. I squirmed a little in his arms, sinking deeper into his embrace and the arch of my buttocks slid against the press of his cock against his pants.

  I had just had the most mind-blowing orgasm in my entire life, but he already had me greedy for more. I arched my back a little more, wiggling my ass against him, and his low chuckle in my ear set me on fire all over again. "I told you," he said. "I'm taking my time with you. We have all night."

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Ewan

  She wiggled a little, flipping over to face me. Surprised, I looked down at her, nestled against my chest. I was hard as a diamond for her, but this was too precious, this moment of just holding her like this, when she was floppy and vulnerable, her soft hair tickling under my chin, her warm, smooth cheek against my chest.

  I brushed her hair back from her face, again and again, as my thoughts chased themselves round and round in a circle. She'd said she trusted me, trusted me enough to let me hear her noises this time, but that shell was still there. I had to tamp down the urge to throw her down onto the mattress and demand that she tell me what it wou
ld take to have her allow me all the way in.

  Instead, I held my breath as her fingers brushed lightly up my side. "Mmm," a little sigh escaped my mouth.

  She tilted her head to smile up at me. "You like that?"

  I nodded. "I'm a sucker for getting petted," I told her. "What guy wouldn't be?"

  She pushed herself up on her elbow and peered at my face. "This way?" she asked as she brushed her fingers whisper-light against my skin. "Or this?" She flipped her hand around to catch me with her fingernails.

  My dick was ramrod straight. "Scratch me."

  She sat up again. "Like this?" she wanted to know.

  When she raked her fingernails down my back, I couldn't hold back the moan and I swear her grin was one of triumph. She scratched me again. "What are you doing to me lass?" I groaned, arching my hips upward.

  "Trying to figure you out," she said.

  I widened my eyes as she nudged me flat onto my back. "Go ahead and figure all you want," I told her as she straddled me.

  The heat from her pussy nearly scalded me through my jeans. It was exquisite torture the way she was raking her nails over the skin of my chest, shoulders, and arms. I closed my eyes at the pleasure and then opened them again because I wanted to see her, I wanted to never stop watching her expression of rapt concentration as she set about trying to "figure me out."

  Her nails scratched lower and suddenly I jerked violently. "Sorry," I told her when she snatched her hands away, alarmed. "I'm bloody ticklish." Her eyes widened. "No one knows," I warned her. "This is my private shame. Don't you be getting ideas."

  "Where?" she asked. "Here?"

  "Fucking hell!" I thrashed away when her fingers sank into my ribs. "You're a devil-woman."