by Mia McAdams
When she’s facing me, she bats her eyes, then places a hand at the bottom of my shirt and tugs.
I lift my hands over my head to remove it, leaving my chest bare for her searching fingers. She’s focused on every detail, leaving chills behind every touch. I’m so interested in what she’s doing to me I forget about touching her. My entire body is vibrating. And then her hands reach the waist of my shorts. “Off.”
My body goes tense and I stare at her with warning. My dick jerks with excitement as if he knows she’s coming after him. “Lyric.”
“No sex tonight, but I want to feel you.”
Fuck.
I tug the shorts off quickly and kick them to the end of the bed. “Better?” I ask huskily.
She smiles and shifts so her legs are intertwined with mine, and then she presses a sweet kiss below one pec, creating a buzz throughout my body. Just the feel of her lips on my skin is too much.
She continues to place kisses on random spots on my chest, working her way up to my neck. When she reaches her destination, I groan and place my hand on the back of her neck, massaging it slowly as my raging erection continues to dig into her.
Every movement causes my balls to ache a little more, but I can’t get over the fact that her lips have touched most of my body except my lips. I need her mouth. Now.
In a swift move, my mouth catches hers before she can drag her lips down again. It’s the softest of kisses, and I enjoy every damn minute of it. Her lips are plush, like my favorite kind of pillow. Conforming to my every direction. Sinking and lifting. Warming at every contact. Like everything else about Lyric, her lips are perfect.
I’ve never had to restrain myself before. When I want a woman, I take her. Holding back for Lyric is making me crazy in so many ways.
Our breaths collide before I press down on her lips again, showing her just how much my mouth needs hers. My tongue finds its entrance and dips into the warmth, earning a moan from her. Lyric’s grip tightens on my waist before she slides her hands over my ass and squeezes.
I growl and push my length against her stomach, making her gasp. “No sex,” I say again because she’s either forgotten or trying to kill me with all the touching.
She lets out a giggle, slipping her index finger under the fabric of my underwear and sliding it around until she’s touching the nest of hair at my groin. My heart pounds at the thought of her hands on me. “Fuck, Lyric,” I moan as her hand travels lower. I want her so bad. She can’t keep touching me like this.
And then she wraps her small hands around my engorged dick and squeezes.
I gasp, my vision blurs, my heart beats double-time, and then it’s game over.
My teeth tug at her bottom lip before I remove her tank top. I hate that she has to remove her hands from my cock, but we’ll get back to that. Right now, I need her tits in my mouth. Her breasts are so fucking spectacular. I sigh before taking a mouthful and swirling my tongue until she lets out a scream. My free hand keeps busy, too, working its way down to her underwear and slipping a finger over the fabric covering her clit. I circle my finger as I suck and nip at her nipples, swirling my tongue and flicking until she gives me more of those tiny noises I love to hear.
I almost explode the moment she pushes against my chest, climbs on top of me, and slips my briefs down enough to release my erection. “Wait here,” she pants as she rolls over and removes her underwear. Just as quickly, she’s on top of me again and plants her mouth on mine with a groan. I’m speechless when she removes her mouth for a moment and reaches down to plunge her fingers into herself before spreading the wetness around her entire pussy. When she’s satisfied, she pushes my throbbing dick against my stomach and begins to move her wet heat against it as her hand strokes the underside.
What the fuck? I’m going to lose it. She’s not pushing me into her. Instead, she’s using the length of my dick as her riding stick, fucking me with the folds of her sex while jacking me off. This is new. And while she’s getting us both off, I get to watch her face. Her eyes are closed, but her mouth is open and releasing little pants of air with each movement. Her voluptuous breasts bounce gracefully above me. And her tiny waist moves with controlled, skillful movements that roll her sexy hips against me. Damn.
I reach around, wanting to help her somehow, not that she needs any help. Her need for a release has overcome her. It’s sexy as hell, especially since it looks like she’s about to come any second. My hands land on her ass, and I press my finger against the tender spot, giving it just enough pressure to make her scream loudly when she starts coming all over my dick. With a quick move, I’m replacing her weakened hold on my cock and stroking myself, releasing my own come while watching her clit throb and her body shudder above me.
“Holy shit,” she pants.
Holy shit is right.
I pull her down so her body is flush against mine, not even caring that our liquids are all over us. I take her mouth and kiss the hell out of her. When I pull away, I chuckle. “That was the best fucking non-sex I’ve ever had.”
She laughs and rolls off me, still trying to catch her breath. Not long after, we pass out in each other’s arms.
Lyric
No regrets. Not a single one. As I awaken from an awesome dream having everything to do with Wolf and his magical mouth, I’m distinctly aware of the warm wetness between my legs. I gasp when I feel the sucking between my thighs. I’m already close to the edge, and I’m not even fully awake yet.
After he’s sucked me dry in my orgasmic oasis, he lifts up so his body is covering mine and kisses me passionately. “Good morning.” Wolf’s voice is hot as sin in the morning. His shaft is stiff between my legs. He rocks into me, as if begging for permission to enter, but holds back to keep his promise.
“Good morning back.” I smile as he buries his mouth in my neck and groans. “You’re extra awake this morning,” I tease.
“I can’t believe I slept knowing you were naked beside me. I’ve never done that. Ever.”
“Slept with someone without having sex?”
He nods into my hair. “Uh-huh.” He rocks his hips again until his tip finds my entrance. We freeze and stare at each other.
Why the no sex rule, I’m not sure, but it was fun as hell trying to obey. I think we managed like two sexually frustrated champions. Now, I’m not sure I’ll have the strength to tell him no.
“Lyric . . .”
“No sex was your rule. Why?”
He sighs. “Because I wanted to prove to you that it’s more than sex. It is, but I'm also more attracted to you than to anyone. Ever. Seriously, Lyric. It was like you were born to be mine.” I gasp at his words and watch as he realizes what he just said. “I just mean you’re perfect. If I had to dream up my perfect woman, it would be you in every way. Mind. Body. Soul. I’m so into you it’s insane.”
Again, I smile and brush my lips against his. “Then what are you waiting for?”
He groans again. “I want to so fucking bad. I can’t believe I’m saying this. Let’s do this right. As much as I want to bury myself in you for the unforeseeable future, you deserve more than this. Our first time should be memorable. It shouldn’t be morning sex, and it definitely shouldn’t happen before I take you out on a proper date.”
“A proper date.” I stifle a giggle. Who is this man and what did he do with rock star Wolf?
“Yes.” His tone is defensive. “I may have had an idiot for a father, but I had an angel for a mother, and she taught me a few things about how to treat a woman. I just haven’t found one that brings that out in me, I guess. You, sweet Lyric, are worthy of everything my mother taught me.”
“I think I need to meet your mom.” I’m trying to hide my grin, but it’s impossible.
Something changes in Wolf’s eyes. His expression grows dim, and the hardness digging into my core softens. He rolls off me as my stomach feels a painful squeeze. Alarms sound off in my head. I’ve said something wrong.
I’m afraid to open my mou
th again, and all is silent for a few moments while I wait for Wolf to speak. Nothing comes. Minutes pass, and I can’t even look at him. His mind seems to be churning, debating something, and I’m so afraid I've crossed some arbitrary line that was teetering on a dark memory deep within him.
After a while I feel a dip in the bed as he gets up and makes his way to the bathroom. Shit. I can only imagine the worst as I think about the topic of conversation. His mother. A shiver runs through me, and I wish I hadn’t said a word about meeting her.
When the water in the shower starts, I frown and I launch myself off the bed. What I find in the bathroom knocks the wind out of me as if I’ve just fallen from the tallest tree. I’m not bleeding or dying, but it hurts like hell to watch Wolf sobbing.
His sobs aren’t loud and ugly like mine would be. But his face is red, eyelids pinched tightly together . . . and he shakes violently. White knuckles and fingertips grip the edge of the counter. With his head cast down, his shoulders heave forward relentlessly, and the tears stream down his face.
Oh, God. A hand goes to my mouth, eyes wide. For a moment I’m frozen, just watching him, trying to make sense of what I’m seeing. The tightness in my chest and pressure in my throat build as I witness his pain, telling me that my feelings for this man go beyond anything rational. It wasn’t planned. It wasn’t even wanted or welcomed. But it’s here in this room and there’s no denying it anymore.
I push the door all the way open, unable to hold back, and place my arms around his waist with my face pressed against his back. He continues to let go. Silent sobs of ache pulling from deep within him. I want to be strong for him. Hold him for as long as he wants or needs. And then a tear falls onto my arm and it completely rips me apart. Now I’m crying with him. My hands move up his chest until one is directly above his heart, as if I can hold it in place for him. I don’t know why or how it happened, but Wolf’s pain is now my own.
No words were spoken in the bathroom. Our phones began to ring like crazy, so I finally took the call to listen to Crawley scream at me on the other end. I lied. I told him I didn’t know where Wolf was but I was on my way to his room and we’d be to the bus shortly. Once on the bus, Wolf went straight to his room, and I could tell by his swift departure that he wanted to be alone. I ignored Crawley’s heated stare the entire first hour and then gave up and went to my bunk. We have a twelve-hour drive ahead of us, which means one long pit stop to give Rory a break at the wheel. Tonight, we sleep on the bus.
After napping for a few hours, I’m up and opening my laptop to work. There are over three hundred messages in my inbox, most of which are confirmations for upcoming accommodations, but it’s too much for my brain right now. I can’t get Wolf off my mind—or the confusion I feel after witnessing his tears. I’m not confused by my feelings; those were solidified last night when he told me I’m the only one he sees and then again this morning when he said it was like I was made for him. Those words were heavy for both of us.
When I feel better about the flood of emails, I close my laptop and reach for my song book at the corner of my bed. I open it to find my latest unfinished piece and add to it.
Taste
You’ve stolen a piece, without asking for consent
Not in my plans, to fall to my knees
It’s simply meant to be
Tell me, how does it feel?
Tasting flesh, so hungrily
That smile on your face, aches in me
My lust for you, is shaking
I’m yours, for the taking
Tell me, how does it feel?
Give me another taste
You know you’re craving me
Let me have another taste
As I lose myself to you
Give me another taste
While you steal more of me
Not sure how this will end
Stealing pieces of me ’til you win
Silent war between heart and mind
Heart wins every time
Give me another taste
You know you’re craving me
Let me have another taste
As I lose myself to you
Give me another taste
While you steal more of me
Wolf
The question isn’t whether I want Lyric by my side. And there isn’t a speck of doubt that she would be here if I asked. The problem is the self-consuming hole of darkness I tumbled into the moment Lyric said she wanted to meet my mother. It sent me down a mental path I've avoided for so long. Four years, to be exact. Never in my wildest dreams did I expect to unleash that on her, but after her comment, there was no stopping the volcano of emotions that rose in my chest. And then she had to watch me physically fall apart in the bathroom. I cried like a fucking baby, and she saw every single teardrop.
Then she held me.
I’ve loved one woman and one woman only. My mother. When she was dying, we spoke of my future. I made promises to her; some I’ve been able to fulfill, others I haven’t. Have I respected every woman I’ve encountered? Not in a sense that my mother would be proud of. Have I worked hard and stayed true to my dreams? Without a doubt. Have I met someone who makes every other flower wilt in comparison? Hell yes. Do I have any intention of pursuing the connection? That’s where shit gets complicated.
I didn’t think my heart was capable of beating this way for anyone, not even someone as beautiful and smart and sexy as Lyric. The death of my mother suffocated a part of me until I thought it had grown cold and died. Letting someone in means them seeing all of me—the damage, the hurt, the pain, the bitterness I have toward life beyond the music. There's no way in hell I was opening myself up to anyone if it meant being vulnerable like that. I’d always been the strong one. As my mother was fading away, my hand squeezed hers, letting her know I would be okay when she was gone and could no longer look after me. But even as I made those promises, I knew they were all sugarcoated lies to mask my pain and make her death as peaceful as possible.
The lies hurt like hell. They still do.
While I promised my mother one thing, I silently promised myself something different. Falling in love was never the plan.
When Lyric said she wanted to meet my mother, it all came crashing down. My first thought was that my mother would have adored her. She’d have given me that knowing smile, like when I’d made a decision she was proud of but expected no differently because she believed in me. And then the realization hit like a boulder slowly rolling over me and crushing my chest; I let my attraction for someone completely obliterate my vow—a vow I made for a damn good reason. Because loving someone hurts like hell when it ends.
There’s a tap at my door before it opens and Lyric appears. I watch her beautiful body as she quietly closes the door and leans against it, a mixture of her pain and sorrow clearly written on her face. I caused this. I led her on. For a second, I believed I could do this—be with her in a way that was more than sex and an ego boost.
“We don’t have to talk about it,” she says. It’s then I see her songbook clutched to her chest. “I wrote something. Will you read it?”
I can almost feel her heart pounding in her chest. The way she’s letting her vulnerability bleed into my room, she’s asking me to trust her without asking anything at all. If I had to name the thing I love most about Lyric, it might just be the words she’s able to express on paper. It’s my ultimate weakness, which is why, despite my intention to let her go, I nod.
Her steps are slow. Her eyes are everywhere but on mine. And then she sits on my bed, handing me her open book. I take it, but then I pull her down so that she’s lying by my side. Her free arm wraps around my waist and her cheek rests on my chest. I’m sure she can feel my heart racing at our nearness.
The title, “Taste,” catches my attention first, and then I read her words. My eyes drag across and down the page slowly, allowing every single word to sink in, until I can feel myself shaking with emotion. I’m going to fall apart again.
> Not sure how this will all end
Stealing pieces of me ’til you win
A silent war between heart and mind
Heart wins every time
I wish it were that easy.
Lyric takes the book from my hands and sets it on the floor before facing me again. When she plants her soft lips on mine, her lyrics run through my mind again until they’re blinding me. My response to her words is revealed in my response to her kiss. I take over, gently moving her so that she’s beneath me. My tongue dives in to explore her mouth and all its warmth. I let my passion bleed into her, while I keep my movements achingly slow and appreciative.
After peeling the layers of clothes from our bodies and placing my mouth on all her exposed places, I beg her to look at me. I’m positioned above her, and her knees are up, her legs spread wide to accommodate me. The rubber is hugging me, unwelcome but necessary, and I’m ready to enter her. But I can’t be inside her unless I’m staring into her eyes. I love that I can see every emotion in them as if their depths could carry me straight to her heart. When our eyes lock, I let out a sigh and remove my finger from her folds, exchanging it for the tip of my penis. “You’re beautiful, Lyric.”
Her breath catches when I push into her. I go slow, letting her get used to me, and then I sink deeply, as far as our bodies will take me. For a moment, I simply hold her to me while I kiss her. Her hugging tightness is enough to make me forget to breathe. Her high-pitched sigh causes me to thicken inside her, and then I’m moving, pushing into her with slow strokes. Our eyes never break their hold.
After a while, I need to squeeze my eyes shut; the pleasure becomes too much, but she’s there with me, our heated breaths colliding. Becoming one.
