Uncovering Hope (Uncovering Love Book 3)

by Kacey Shea

  Loud sobs fill the space and her face crumples with an overwhelming sadness. I pull her to me once more and she practically crawls into my lap. It’s my undoing and I don’t hold back. Salty drops fall from my eyes and into her hair.

  Fuck! Not Luis. Fucking bloody hell, not that kid.

  “Hey, I need you to promise me something,” I whisper through my tears. She nods and I wipe the space on her skin where it glimmers with moisture. “I’m leaving in a few days for this tour. This leg is only a month, but I want you to update me. Let me know how Luis is . . . if . . . if it gets really bad . . .”

  God, I can hardly think the words let alone get them out. “Just promise me you’ll let me know if I need to bail on the tour and come back.”

  Her chin jerks up and down, a few more tears escape, and she bites at her lower lip. I can’t stand to see her this way. I use my thumbs to brush away the fresh tears.

  “Hey, don’t cry, mama.” She looks up at me from under her lashes and I dip my chin. I can feel her breath, cool on my face from where my own tears have trailed.

  Carly reaches up and cups my face with her hands. Her thumbs brush over my cheeks and I sigh, leaning into her touch. She’s holds me like I’m something precious, worthy, and it’s new, uncharted territory. My breath hitches but I wait for her lead this time. The moment stretches, her fingers trace my cheekbones, jaw, and chin.

  She crawls over me, straddles my lap, and I can only hope—

  “Kiss me, Derek. Make me forget this horrible night.”

  I don’t need more encouragement than that.

  Her hands are at my face and I meet her lips, kissing, licking, and stroking my tongue inside her mouth. My hands splay at her hips and I dig my fingertips into her curves, pulling so that her center pushes against mine. Keeping one hand at her hip, I trap the other between us, then beneath her top, over the soft skin of her belly until I hit the fabric of her bra. I pull at the cup, find a nipple, and roll it between my thumb and index finger.

  Her soft moans and gasps go straight to my dick. My throbbing member wants nothing more than to be buried in that sweet pussy, but that’s not how I want her. Not rushed in the car of a workplace elevator. No. I want to lay her out on a bed, take my time, relish every sound, taste, and touch.

  My chest heaves as I pull my hand from her breast and lean back to put space between our heated bodies.

  “Not like this, mama. We need to stop.”

  “Yes. Sorry . . . I . . . apologize.” Carly scrambles from my lap and pushes at the buttons to resume our trek back to the fourth floor.

  “Carly.” I step behind her and cage her between my arms. I lick the shell of her ear and she gives a shudder, her breath ragged. “When we fuck—and believe me, I want nothing more right now—I need you, all of you, and not rushed in some crappy elevator. What I want with you requires hours, days really, but hours will work.”

  “Oh.” She gasps. I know she’s turned on.

  “Yeah. Oh.” I lick her ear again and suck the lobe into my mouth before releasing her as the car stops. The doors open and I back up to give her space.

  “Soon?” I ask. I don’t want to push her, but at the same time I do. I want her.

  She steps out and turns, worries that lower lip between her teeth, and searches my eyes with her own piercing gaze. I wish I knew what for.

  The doors start to close so I say it again, louder, and not a question this time. “Soon.”

  I SHOULDN’T BE HERE. I should be home. Right now I feel ancient compared to my actual age of thirty-one. The bass thumps through the walls, a gorgeous estate nestled in the foothills of North Scottsdale. The stucco one-story architecture is comfortable and classic Southwestern, but the inhabitants of this party are the cream of the crop singles and who’s who of the Valley.

  I’m plain, boring, and out of place. I shouldn’t have agreed but the look of expectation on Derek’s face last night was something I just couldn’t refuse. Correction, I didn’t want to refuse.

  Ever since the night in the elevator something has changed between us that I can’t quite name. Yes, I’ve always been attracted to him, but that night coupled with Halloween . . . I don’t know. Maybe I am reading too much into things, but the connection we share is more than just sexual tension and attraction.

  I’m starting to hope—and I’m not sure exactly how it can work—that we can pursue a relationship. Because the things I like about Derek—his kindness, generosity, care of children—those things strike a chord inside that I can’t deny. And the obstacles—his age, okay five years difference isn’t so bad, and his career as a famous rock star—are no longer important reasons to stay away.

  The past two nights he’s returned to the comfortable Derek, putting me back at ease, spending time with Luis, and grabbing coffee with me during my break. He hasn’t pushed or brought up sex, but there’s an undercurrent, a palpable connection that surges between us no matter how light the conversation.

  When he said he was leaving for a month-long tour and he wanted me at his going away party, I knew this was the big step. If I came tonight, away from the boys, just me, it was basically an open invitation to take our relationship to the next level. And though part of my head wants to reason this is probably a horrible idea, the other part knows it’ll be something I regret if I don’t take the chance.

  Which is why I’m now playing wallflower in search of the man of the hour.

  I spot Trent nestled in the middle of a couch with six women surrounding him, each vying for his attention and their chance at the front man. He’s striking and possesses confident sexuality so I can understand the attraction, but I don’t know why anyone would want to be just another one of his endless line of hookups.

  I continue meandering through the main house scanning the kitchen when I’m stopped by sure hands at my waist and rough scruff at my cheek. “Hey, mama,” Derek says at my ear, and pulls me snugly against his front. He leaves a soft kiss at my ear, sending tingles up my spine.

  “You came?” He leaves my back and stands so we’re facing each other.

  “I thought you wanted me to.”

  “Oh, I always want you to.” His eyes narrow and trail down and then back up my body. It’s as if he’s physically touching me; his gaze spreads heat through and over my skin. “Fuck.” He swears and then interlocks our fingers and leads me down a long hallway.

  “Derek, I think the party is out that way.” I laugh, my nerves getting the better of me.

  He opens one of the closed doors and pulls me inside. Shutting and locking the door with a soft click, he blankets us in darkness. My heart races. My breath catches in my throat. Derek’s fingertips caress my bare arms and I shiver in response.

  “Cold?” he asks.

  “Hmm?” I don’t understand the question.

  “Or does my touch do this to you? God damn, Carly, do you think about us together? Because it’s all I can fucking think about. And I promised myself to respect what you wanted, to be friends, but fuck . . .” his hands skim down my sides to the edge of my dress, lifting the hem then skirting his fingers over the tops of my thighs. His touch feels so good. His nose goes to the place where my neck and shoulders meet and he inhales before kissing his way up to my ear.

  My breaths come in little pants and I try, unsuccessfully, to hold in a moan when the metal barbell in his tongue meets my skin. I want to know what that feels like with his head between my legs.

  His fingers dance over the fabric of my panties and my hips rock into him to get closer. “I need to hear you say yes, Carly. Yes that you want more. Yes that you want me. Because I’ve never wanted anything more than I want you right now.”

  “Yes.” I moan. His fingers hook into the waistband of my panties and he backs us up so that my back hits the door with a soft thud.

  “Thank you,” he whispers, and his mouth covers mine. His tongue pushes inside my mouth to play. Instinctively, my hands go to his head, but there’s no hair to hold on to, so I gra
b his ears instead. His lips move down my neck, descend into and over my cleavage. With a hold on my panties, his fingers pull them straight to the ground as he drops to his knees before me. He lifts my shoes, one at a time, to slide my underwear off, and then his hands pull at my dress, bunching it up around my waist.

  “God, Carly, you’re so sweet.” He uses one hand to spread my center open and his breath sends warm air over my sensitive folds. “I like sweet things,” he says and runs his tongue over my clit, sucking at my skin, flicking his metal stud over me.

  “Oh, yes.” I pant. “Oh, God, that feels good.” I pull him closer by his earlobes.

  “I love the way you taste,” he says.

  My own pants and moans fill the dark room, along with the sounds of his sucking. The door at my back pulses with the beat of the music playing from the main room, muted laughter and conversation a backdrop to the pleasure Derek evokes. When he props one of my legs over his shoulder and dips two fingers inside, his tongue still playing at my clit, I almost come undone.

  “Are you close?” he asks and resumes his oral performance.

  “Yes,” I bite out, trying desperately to hold off my orgasm. “But I want to come with you.”

  He moans, lips locked around my center and it pushes me to the edge.

  “God, that’s so like you.” Derek pulls back, setting my leg back on the ground to stand before me. My eyes adjust to the darkness and I make out the profile of his face. I run my fingers over his forehead, to his cheekbone, and stop at his lips.

  He closes his eyes as though my touch does something to him and he groans. He reaches back and produces a foil packet, “You’re sure? I want you to be sure.” I unzip his pants and reach inside to wrap my hands over the soft skin of his hard length.

  “Fuck me, Derek,” I whisper. He chuckles and pushes down his pants.

  “Naughty nurse. I knew it.” He covers my mouth in a demanding kiss. My fingers run over his length and I gasp when I find his metal piercing.

  “You weren’t lying,” I say between kisses. “You really are pierced in other places.” His lips widen where they meet my mouth.

  “I’ll never lie to you, Carly.” He pulls back enough to sheath himself in the latex rubber. The next thing I know his hands reach behind and lift me up. My shoulderblades push against the door. He centers himself at my core and I reach one hand between us to guide him.

  We both moan as his length pushes inside to stretch and fill my wet center. The smell of Derek, a little bit mint, and the smell of sex, my own arousal, fills the air. That, my back bumping against the door with each thrust, and the taste of his tongue inside my mouth consume my senses. I only wish the lights were on so I could admire his body. I can only imagine the way his tattooed skin strains and flexes with each movement.

  I can tell when he’s close. His thrusts become more demanding, less controlled. I wrap my legs tightly around his back; my arms hold tightly to his shoulders. “Yes, yes, yes,” I pant between kisses.

  Derek pulls his lips back, frames my face with both his hands, and pulls our foreheads so they touch. “Yes, mama, that’s it.” He thrusts deeper, harder, and slower and his body hits against my clit, sending me over the edge. I bite my lip hard so I don’t scream, but my body spasms with my orgasm.

  Derek shouts out a sound that’s not really a word and wraps his arms around me, one at my ass, one at my back, and presses my body into the door with his frame. He comes and the connection between us is so powerful. So intense. I blink back tears. His heart hammers in his chest and he nuzzles his face into my neck with a kiss.

  “You are so sweet.” He kisses the skin on my shoulder. “So damn good.” His lips move languidly and purposefully up my neck to just under my earlobe. “That was earth shattering.” Kiss. “Extraordinary.” Kiss. “Lavish.” Lick. “The best, mama.”

  I can’t fight the grin that fills my face. Yes, yes, it really was.

  “Now, let’s go meet my friends.” He lowers my legs back to the ground and detangles our bodies. I miss his skin on mine immediately. Wait, what?

  “No! I can’t meet your friends now. I must look . . .”

  “Thoroughly fucked. I bet you look thoroughly fucked. Let’s see.” I hear his smile through the darkness and then the room is bathed in light. My eyes snap shut at the harshness.

  “Too bright.” I wince.

  “God, you’re beautiful.” The reverence in his voice lifts my eyelids. His chocolatey brown irises reflect admiration, desire, and something that looks a lot like love. He smirks and hands back my panties.

  “How about you freshen up. There’s a bathroom through that door.” I follow his finger past the king bed to the open doorway. “And when you’re ready, meet me in the backyard and I can introduce you to my friends.” He intertwines the fingers of his right hand with my left. “I want you to meet them. I want to share this part of me with you.”

  I nod and a smile fills his face. He kisses the back of my hand and releases me, then makes himself presentable before leaving the room. I pad through the spectacular bedroom, wondering whose bedroom we’ve just christened. I’m sure it’s someone Derek knows, as he seemed knowledgeable of the floor plan.

  I use the restroom and do my best to straighten my hair, makeup, and clothes so I don’t look like I’ve just had sex against a door, which is exactly what I’ve done. I should feel embarrassed, guilty, but I don’t. I feel amazing. Sexy, confident, and cherished.

  I sneak back into the hallway, follow it out to the main rooms, and quickly spot the back doors.

  Through the oversized glass doors they’ve assembled a dance floor in the back corner of the yard, and lights flash across the space from a DJ booth. The night sky is black and cloudy, hiding the crescent moon, and a cool breeze kicks up. I smooth down my skirt and look around, searching for Derek.

  There’s a group congregated near the fire pit and as I draw closer I hear his unmistakable deep laughter. I stride over, a smile on my face. What I see next replaces the brief joy I had in finding him with anger.

  You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.

  The smell of weed permeates the night air and fills me with a familiar sense of dread, disgust, and hate. I close my eyes. An image of Josh sitting around our kitchen table with his buddies fills my mind. Fuck. I snap my eyes open in time to see Derek take the joint from the woman seated at his side. It stops me in my tracks. His gaze finds mine through the haze of smoke.

  Of course he does drugs. Fuck my life. I don’t move and he’s still staring. Movement beside Derek catches my eye and the woman sitting next to him, the one with the perfectly thin waist, long black hair, and amazing rack, whispers something in his ear. He doesn’t seem to like whatever she says and hands the joint back. He trains his gaze on me. The woman at his side makes a point of glaring at me from beneath fake lashes. She lifts the joint to her red painted lips and inhales.

  It’s the kick in the ass I need to jolt me from my stupor. I turn on my heel and march back through the house the way I came. I hear my name being called over the music but I don’t stop. I can’t believe this. I can’t believe he smokes weed. Of course he does, I’m sure the band has all sorts of drugs at their disposal.

  “Carly, stop. Mama, hey, hold up.” I step out the front door and Derek catches my arm in a firm grip, pulling me to face him.

  “Hey, where are you going? Everything okay with the boys?” Worry and concern etch across his face.

  I grind my teeth together and glare. “Let me go. I’m leaving.”

  “Are you mad because you’re jealous of Sarah?”

  “What?” I scowl and shake my head. “Who’s Sarah?”

  “The girl sitting next to me back there.” He shakes his head, brow furrowed.

  “I don’t give a fuck who you spend your time with,” I bite out. He steps back, eyes wide as if I’ve just slapped him.

  “Hey. What’s going on? Why are you so upset? I thought things were—it was good between us—I thought y
ou felt the same.” He looks so hurt but I can’t worry about what he thinks. I have to protect myself.

  “I came here tonight thinking . . . nevermind. I didn’t think. I don’t do drugs, Derek.”

  “I don’t either.”

  “No. I mean, I don’t do them in any capacity. I won’t be around them, or people, such as yourself, who get high.”

  “I didn’t smoke weed.”

  “You were holding a joint.”

  “Okay, that looks bad, but I don’t smoke. Well I have smoked, and sometimes on occasion I still do. But it’s not a big deal. I don’t need it. I’m not an addict or anything.”

  Like I’ve never heard that before. I close my eyes and will the memories away. This is too much. I knew better. God, I’m a fool.

  “I can’t do this with you. My ex was a drug addict. Is a drug addict. And nothing you can say or do will explain your behavior away.”

  “Look, I’m sorry, Carly. I didn’t know. I swear, it’s not a big deal to me. If you don’t like it, it’s not something I need in my life. You’re more important than that.”

  “So, you’ll go in there and take all the drugs away? Or when you’re on tour there won’t be any?”

  “Come on, Carly, I can’t do that. I respect the guys to make their own decisions. It doesn’t bother me, I just don’t participate. They can. It doesn’t hurt anyone.”

  “I knew it! I knew it could never work between us. God, I’m sorry Derek, but I have to go.”

  “Wait! You thought we could be an us? Please, Carly, what I feel with you—it’s more than I ever thought possible.”

  “You don’t get it. We’re too different. We live in different worlds. You’re going on the road and I’ll be here, with my boys. I need someone who fits into that. And the weed, that’s just the nail in the coffin. I can’t—no—I refuse to do that to my boys. To put them in a bad situation again. They’re everything to me. I’ll do anything to keep them safe.” Silence stretches between us. His gaze doesn’t waver from mine.