Revenge: The Complete Series (Erotic Rock Star Suspense Romance)

by Mimi Strong

  Dylan carries me to the spiral staircase, and takes me up. We circle the spiral and emerge on the upper loft.

  Holding me in his strong arms, he pauses to click a switch.

  Hidden lights cast a soft glow on the wall. The bed, covered in dark linens, looks private and dim, set away from the walls.

  Dylan’s mouth finds mine, and I forget all about where we are.

  There’s only his body, pressing urgently against mine.

  He carries me over to the bed, where he lays me down gently on my back, sideways near the bottom of the bed. My knees are bent, and the tips of my shoes touch the carpeted floor. The denim skirt I chose for this moment is crumpled up at my waist.

  Dylan locks his eyes on mine, like he’s commanding me to stay still. With a serious expression, he pulls his CBGB T-shirt off over his head and drops it without looking away from me. With his back to the wall, his eyes are in shadow. I feel like I’m falling, like there’s nothing around me but empty outer space.

  His nostrils flare again, and his chest and defined abdominal muscles flex as he takes two deep breaths.

  I hold still, resisting the urge to push down my skirt and cover myself.

  He drops down to his knees quickly and buries his face between my legs.

  I curl up in reflex, feeling the urge to push him away. His mouth is over my panties, his breath hot. The heat soothes me. My hands stop reaching to push him away, and fall down to rest on the covers at my sides.

  He moves his chin, or his lips, or both, and nudges against my sensitive mound. The divine pleasure is instant and so intense.

  I moan and rock my head back against the mattress, heat building within me. I need him so desperately.

  His hands scoop under my buttocks again, and he lifts me up, bringing me to his mouth like he might consume me.

  His fingers grasp the waistband of my panties, and he pulls them down. He’s still on his knees, between my legs. I want to feel his bare chest against mine, and his lips on my breasts.

  He removes my shoes and pulls my cotton panties off over my bare feet. My stomach tenses, and I glance down at my body for a second. I’m shocked to see my own bare flesh, so close to Dylan’s beautiful face. This doesn’t seem real.

  He glances at the spot between my legs and licks his lips.

  My eyes widen, and my heart pounds like a drum.

  Using my hands, I push myself up and move back on the bed, getting away from him. I cross my legs so he’s not looking directly at everything.

  He gets to his feet, a knowing look on his face. His smile starts off small, then grows wide, into a big grin, with visible teeth. He looks like his last name. He looks like a wolf.

  He unfastens the button of his jeans and pushes them down. His underwear are black, and in the low light, I can’t see the form of what’s beneath the fabric. My mind races. What if he’s too big to fit inside me? I’ve never done it, so I don't know how big is too big. What if I’m too nervous, and it won’t work?

  “You won’t get away now,” he says, climbing onto the bed.

  I push myself away until my back comes into contact with the wrought iron headboard.

  He grabs my legs at the knees and yanks me toward him in one movement.

  And he’s on top of me.

  His mouth on mine.

  His weight on me.

  My hands fly out, then land on his back, palm down. We keep kissing, and my hands run up and down his smooth, hot back.

  He pulls away and looks down at my shirt. He begins undoing the buttons, starting at the bottom. With half the buttons undone, he shifts his body down, his legs and torso between my legs.

  He kisses my stomach. Slowly and deliberately, he circles my navel with the tip of his tongue.

  I moan and close my eyes.

  Lips and tongue travel up the center of my stomach. I feel my shirt being opened all the way to my collarbone, and then being spread wide open. There’s a pinch, and my bra is unfastened at the front and also falls away.

  My eyes stay clenched shut.

  There’s music playing. I haven’t noticed until now, but it’s very soft. He must have started the music when he turned on the lights.

  My nipples harden. Something soft and wet closes around my nipple.

  My eyes fly open.

  He’s grinning again, even while he kisses my breast. His dark brown eyes glittering with fire, and he kisses his way over to the other breast and takes my other nipple between his teeth.

  A shock of electricity rides through my body. My breath catches in my throat, and my fingers dig into his back.

  He groans and brings his hand between my legs. He’s gentle, pressing in and gliding his fingers along me. My breathing gets shallow as he swirls his fingers.

  My legs relax and part wider. He keeps rubbing with his fingertips, making sure I’m ready.

  We kiss. He’s taking his time, being patient. It definitely helps that he still has his shorts on. He nudges against me, and even through the fabric, I can feel how turned on he is.

  His fingers feel good between my legs. I lose myself in his kisses, my tongue against his. We are becoming intertwined.

  He pulls away and nuzzles my ear. “Are you ready?” he asks.

  “Yes.”

  He rolls off me, onto his side, and then sits up. He reaches over to the dresser next to the bed and pulls open the top drawer. I see the flash of a square packet. He moves, pulling his black underwear down. I hear a crinkle as he opens the packet. He hums to himself for a moment.

  He’s so adorable, humming like that. I can hardly stand how cute he is.

  He rolls back and positions himself between my legs. I brace myself. He gazes into my eyes. His expression is gentle, his eyes caring.

  His fingertips glide from side to side across my collarbone, and then down the center of my body. His finger slips between my legs again, parting me. I’m wet. I feel something at my opening. Bigger than fingers.

  My eyes are still closed. I’m barely breathing. I’m floating in outer space, with nothing to hold onto.

  “I won’t tell you to relax,” he says.

  My eyelids fly open. He looks worried, with his forehead wrinkled up.

  “What?” I gasp.

  He repeats himself. “I won’t tell you to relax, because you won’t. So, I’m giving you permission to do whatever you need to do. You can scream, or you can cry, or you can bite me if you want. But whatever you dish out, just know that I’ll give it back to you double.”

  My skin gets so hot, I swear I can feel sweat pooling on the small of my back.

  I don’t know what to say, so I just nod. At least his eyes are here, grounding me. And his voice will keep me from feeling lost.

  He closes his eyes, and his face relaxes. He looks so calm.

  I’ve never seen a more beautiful human being.

  I think I love him.

  His eyelids flash open. He pushes into me. It’s not what I expected. Even going slowly, he’s pressing like a dagger into my flesh.

  The pain is sharp and intimate. I try to roll away, but I’m pinned. Trapped under his body.

  “Jess?” he asks.

  Through clenched teeth, I say, “Keep going.”

  He thrusts in again, deeper. He’s inside me.

  There’s pain.

  And then, something clicks in my mind and the pain disappears. It’s just gone, and I feel nothing.

  He keeps moving, his breathing heavy now, ragged.

  My hands are clenched in fists at my sides.

  He pivots on my hips, grinding against me. My skin gets pinpricks all over, and the numbness turns to pleasure.

  My fists relax and my hands move up to his back.

  I rock my hips in rhythm with his. He groans encouragement. He doesn’t need to, because this feels good.

  What felt like a dagger inside me is now something else. It’s hard, and fills me, but the shape is right.

  Waves of pleasure radiate from our connection.
I’m making sounds now, and every whimper drives him deeper and harder.

  My fingertips dig into his back. My abdomen is tense. I hold on tight, lifting my hips to meet his. With my knees bent and the soles of my feet on the bed, I grind against him, desperate for more of that full feeling.

  Something releases, and I’m filled with shockwaves of pleasure. My body is in control of my mind. The cries coming from my throat get loud, wailing, almost screaming.

  He moves between my legs, and he’s inside me even deeper than before.

  He groans, and his body stiffens.

  There’s a moment of stillness, where I’m quiet. The waves are receding like the tide. His breath is caught in his chest.

  He gasps and plunges quickly within me, the force punishing.

  When he stops moving, his body becomes twice as heavy as before. He nestles his face between my cheek and shoulder.

  It’s done.

  I can’t tell if my eyes are open or closed until I blink a few more times.

  The ceiling comes into focus above me.

  I swallow, trying to think of something to say. The ideas that come into my head are so awkward, I almost giggle. Do I thank him now? Or should he thank me? Do we roll away and smoke cigarettes like people in movies?

  Now that we’re still, I can feel the pain again. It’s not sharp, but there’s an ache inside me.

  He pulls away, avoiding my eyes. He turns away and sits on the edge of the bed.

  “I’m going to hit the shower,” he says.

  I stare at his broad, bare back. There are indentations from where my nails must have dug in, and some short scratches. Below the new red lines, near the bottom of his rib cage, is a horizontal scar. It looks like it was a deep gash, a few years old.

  “Shower sounds good,” I say.

  He doesn’t turn to look at me.

  “Jess, there’s something you should know.”

  His voice has a hollowness that chills me to the bone. I sit up with a jolt and pull the covers up against my chest.

  “What?” My heart is pounding.

  “It’s about Susan,” he says. “My wife.”

  Revenge - Part 3

  Chapter 1

  I tug at the covers on Dylan’s bed and pull them higher across my chest.

  “You have a wife?” I ask.

  I can’t believe these words are coming from my mouth.

  Just moments ago, Dylan Wolf and I were locked together in passion. I’ve never felt anything like the sweet bliss of being in his arms, in his bed. When we reached the height of pleasure, we felt closer than I knew two people could be.

  Tonight, I gave him everything, and now… he just rolls out of bed and drops this bomb on me. He’s married. WTF?

  “I need to tell you about my wife,” he says. “Her name was Susan. Something about your reaction tells me you don’t know. I’m guessing your bosses didn’t tell you about my wife before they sent you to follow me out of that meeting.”

  I clutch the covers tighter. Where are my clothes? I wish I wasn’t naked right now. I’ve never felt so vulnerable in my life. I thought I was ready to lose my virginity, but I didn’t think it would feel like this. I’m exposed. My insides are aching. And now my heart… my heart is breaking. The guy I’m falling for has a wife.

  Dylan Wolf is still sitting on the edge of the bed, his back to me. He’s waiting for a response of some kind.

  “You’re married?” I ask. I’m ashamed by how stupid I sound, asking this question.

  He nods.

  A blast of emotion hits me. I feel sick to my stomach, and I want to scream and punch something. I thought Dylan was making me his girlfriend, not his mistress.

  I’m sure he’s got a million excuses.

  But I don’t want to hear any of them. I scramble to the other side of the bed and start hunting around in the dim light for my clothes.

  “Don’t be mad,” he says.

  “Too late.”

  My bra and shirt are still looped around my shoulders, where he left them. I button everything back up, and pull on my underwear and skirt.

  Dylan grabs some tissues from the dresser, his back to me, then pulls on his underwear.

  “Good,” he says, finally turning to face me. “Now we’ve got some clothes on. Come and sit on the bed and we’ll talk. You shouldn’t have serious talks when you’re naked.”

  I reach down for my shoes, but he grabs them and holds them hostage behind his back.

  “Jess,” he says sternly. “Calm the fuck down and sit on the bed.”

  “No. I don’t want to spend another minute with you. You’re married. I don’t… I can’t…”

  He stares at me, his dark brown eyes pleading. I feel myself weakening. I can’t resist those gorgeous eyes, and the powerful hold he has over me.

  My eyes move down, across his beautiful, full lips. Those lips were like heaven, raining down kisses on my neck and breasts. I can still feel him, all over my body. There’s not a bit of skin or a single nerve ending that doesn’t sing with desire when Dylan looks at me.

  Looking at his broad, muscular chest and his incredible arms… I long to feel him holding me again. Make this bad feeling go away.

  My pulse quickens as my eyes drop lower, to his dark underwear and the outline barely visible through the fabric. My head tells me to leave, but my body wants to stay and try what we just did again.

  He pats the bed next to him. I walk numbly, like a sleepwalker, and sit next to him. I’m wearing clothes now, but he makes me feel naked anyway.

  The loft bedroom is quiet. Closing my eyes, I reach down deep inside and find my voice.

  “At least tell me you’re divorced, or separated,” I say. There’s hope in my voice.

  “No.”

  I sigh and lean forward, my elbows on my knees and my face in my hands. I’m going to start crying any minute now, just as soon as the shock wears off.

  His hand lands on my back. I shrug him away, but he reaches across my shoulders and pulls me tight to his side.

  “I’m a widower,” he says. “Susan died.”

  I lift my face from my hands and stare up at him. His expression is impossible to read. I can’t tell if he’s feeling grief, or amused at himself for getting me so upset. He’s almost smiling, but not quite. And it’s a funny smile. Like he’s forcing his mouth into that shape so people won’t ask too many questions.

  “When did she die?”

  “Within seconds, we think. Seconds after her car went off the bridge.” He blinks at me, then turns to look away.

  “I’m so sorry.” I lick my lips. “I mean how long ago?”

  With his face in profile to me, he says, “Jess, I knew what you meant the first time. You asked me when, and the truth is it was a minute ago. It was this morning. Or last night. Or it’s happening right now.”

  I frown at him, feeling confused. “It’s happening right now?”

  He keeps looking away. “If you want to go by the calendar, it happened twenty-four months and six days ago. The day I met you was the anniversary of her death.” He exhales sharply and turns his face down to look at his hands. “The anniversary of her death. Anniversary? Is that the right word? I thought anniversaries were for celebrations, but there’s no other word for it. We have birthdays, but we don’t have deathdays.”

  I reach over timidly and put my hand on his bare leg. I’m still reeling with so many raw feelings. A minute ago, I wanted to punch him. Now… I don’t know what I want. Patting his leg seems weird, but I have to do something.

  “I’m sorry for your loss,” I say.

  “She was the only person who mattered to me,” he says. “Her family turned her back on her during her… difficult times. But I stood by her because I knew her heart. She was better than all of them put together.”

  “Two years ago,” I murmur. I don’t mean to say it out loud, but now it’s out there. His wife died two years ago. I don’t know how long it’s supposed to take for someone to get ove
r the love of their life dying. How about never? Something tells me there isn’t enough time in one person’s life to get over that big of a loss.

  Dylan’s still got his arm across my shoulders, and he gives me a little shake. I look over and see him grinning at me. It’s a real smile this time, all the way up to his eyes.

  “Lighten up, will ya?” he jokes. “We can’t both be gloomy. That would be a disaster. I’m sorry about laying this all on you, but the longer I wait, the harder it was going to be.”

  “Thanks for telling me.” I smile back and rest the side of my head against his bare shoulder.

  The heat of his skin is comforting, yet my muscles are still tense from the news. I’m so relieved he’s not married, but it’s like my body hasn’t gotten the message yet.

  I take a deep breath and try to relax. Everything’s okay now, I tell myself. I just had a big shock, but it wasn’t as bad as it seems.

  I adjust my head on his shoulder, enjoying the feeling of his skin under mine. My mouth curves up in a smile. With each second, I’m feeling more relieved that Dylan is single and can be mine.

  “Put all of this in your report,” he says. With my head connected to his shoulder, I feel the deep vibrations of his voice all through my body.

  “What report?” I ask without thinking.

  “For your bosses,” he says. “Let them know Susan is dead, and I don’t have her ‘stashed away’ anywhere. Her family paid the newspapers to keep the accident quiet. That’s why they didn’t know.”

  I don’t like the tone of Dylan’s voice, or what he’s implying. He thinks I’m only here to spy on him for my bosses at Morris Music. But I’d still be here if I worked at a coffee shop. Dylan is the only reason I’m here in this funky converted firehall.

  He chuckles. “Type this all up in your report.”

  “I don’t understand. Why would Morris even care?” I ask. “So what if you were married? That’s not exactly a scandal.”

  “It is and it isn’t. Susan wasn’t exactly an angel.”

  “What did she do? Murder a bunch of people?”

  Dylan pulls away from me and looks into my eyes.

  Oh, no. I could just die. Me and my sarcastic mouth. Why did I have to go and make a dumb joke about his dead wife being a murderer? I wish the floor would open up and I could just fall down a trap door right now.