Salvation (Nashville Nights #2)

by Robin Covington

  “Me too.” And I am. “Thanks again.”

  “Anytime. I’m your wingman, remember?”

  His grin is contagious and I nod and take the hand he extends out to me, melting against him when he tugs me close. Mateo parts the crowd, shielding me with his body as we make our way to the sound stage. Once we get there, the security guard at the bottom of the steps nods to Mateo and opens the gate for us to walk up. He leads me to a spot just behind the large table covered with sound equipment where we can lean against the railing and watch the show.

  Mateo positions us so that I can rest my weight on the metal rail and moves up behind me, close but not touching as he rests his arms on the railing next to mine. In this position he is all around me, his heat and his scent completely covering me. I like it. I like the sensation that his body has captured mine, that he has no qualm in indulging in the maleness of asserting his dominance and possession in this crowd of people. Anyone who looks at us will know that we’ve fucked and that we will be doing it again… very soon.

  I like it more than I want to but I won’t let that deter me from enjoying tonight.

  “Is this okay?” he asks, his breath warm on the skin on my neck and I shiver with the goose bumps it raises on my body. He notices my reaction and his groan is low and deep in my ear, moving his hands to link with mine as he leans forward enough to press his chest to my back, his groin into my ass. “Is this okay?”

  I nod, letting my head fall back to cradle against him and I watch the show. I am not in any hurry to rush to where I know this will end. This is exciting, sexy. I’d forgotten all about this part of the seduction. My time with Aaron seemed so long ago and since him… well, you didn’t get much seduction with quick one-offs against a wall or bent over a couch.

  I turn my head, brushing my lips along his jaw to ask, “When does Zane go on?”

  “After this band.”

  “Good. I love his stuff. I think I’ve been to most of his local shows in the last six months.”

  “Stalker,” he teases and pulls away to grab his phone out of his pocket. He thumbs it on and pulls up the camera app. “Let’s send him a picture. He was excited when he heard you were coming.”

  I lean in closer to make sure we get both of our faces in the shot and after a couple of pics that I hope never see the light of day, we get a good one and Mateo leans back against me, circling me in his arms as he types out a quick text and sends the photo.

  “So, what did you do today now that classes are officially over?” he asks, brushing his mouth against my ear.

  “I helped Livvy pack and mail boxes to New York.”

  “Ouch. That’s going to be rough when she moves, yeah? You guys are really close.”

  I nod. “Today kind of sucked for both of us. She’s excited to finally be with Sarah and I’m happy for her, but I’m going to miss her. She’s the first real friend I’ve had since everything happened.”

  He’s quiet for a few moments and I wonder if he’s going to ask me questions about the bombing, about Aaron. Most people do but I realize that he’s not drumming up the courage to ask, he’s waiting to see if I’m ready to share. I’m not but I’m grateful for his patience.

  “I worked out with my trainer. We did weights today and I’m going to feel it in my arms and legs tomorrow,” I say.

  “That’s good. Back injuries require lots of strength training, core work and overall body. Do you swim as part of your routine? The low-impact would be great for you.”

  “I don’t swim anymore.” I manage to keep the edge of panic and anger out of my tone but my words still come out like a whip and I feel him tense up at my reaction.

  “Ever?”

  “No.” And I clamp my lips together, unwilling to say more and trying to control the tremor that starts whenever I talk about it.

  His phone vibrates in his hand and we both look down. Zane has responded and Mateo quickly presses the screen, both of us relieved to move on from the awkwardness that was creeping into our night.

  Zane’s sent a selfie, the stage with the current performers in the background of the picture. “Ariel! Glad you could make it even if you have to hang out with that loser. I’ll come find you after the show and rescue you.”

  “He calls me Ariel?” I ask.

  Mateo glances at me, his expression a little bit confused. “Yeah. You know the whole red hair and mermaid thing. The swimming… ” I keep my expression flat and his words drift off when I don’t respond. He’s worried about my taking offense. I let the silence drag out a little bit longer before I let him off the hook and smile. His obvious relief makes me laugh out loud.

  “Newsflash braintrust, you two aren’t the first to think that up.” I gesture towards the phone. “Hand it over.”

  I type onto the screen. “If we fuck, you’ll write a song about me. It will go viral. I will have to listen to it for the rest of my life. No thanks. Ariel.”

  I hand the phone back to Mateo, noticing for the first time the dark expression on his face. Not anger. Something deeper. Carnal. Something that gets me wet and makes my body flash hot all over.

  “I rescind my offer of a threesome. You know this, right?” Mateo pulls me in tight against him, his breath hot against my cheek. “There’s no fucking way I can share you with anybody. There would be bloodshed. Prison for me.” He punctuates the next few words with a series of small nips against the skin of my neck. “Very. Bad. Idea.”

  “Well, then you better make my sacrifice worth it.” I snake my hand backwards between us, touching as much of his hard abdomen and even harder crotch as I can from my awkward angle.

  “You already know I’m worth it. I bet you’re already wet for me. Dying for it.” He keeps one arm looped around my waist ensuring that I stay where he wants me while the other wanders, skimming over my bare thighs and then inching up under the hem of my denim skirt to trace the bottom curve of an ass cheek. He groans against my ear. “Fuck, I love the fact that you hate underwear.”

  I lick my lips. “I don’t like anything to get in between me and what I want.”

  He laughs, the sound dark and sensual and the perfect thing to crank me up one notch higher.

  “Well, you can’t have what you want right now.” The tips of his fingers trace the curve of my ass and I hold my breath as he makes a shallow dip into the wet, slick place between my legs. My body sags but he holds me in place in the right spot for him to make me crazy with that dirty mouth. “If you’re a good girl and enjoy Zane’s set, later tonight I’ll bury my cock in your pussy as deep as you want, for as long as you want, as often as you want. Sound good?”

  All I can do is nod and try to get my breathing under control as Mateo removes his fingers from my skirt and wraps both arms around my waist. His phone buzzes in his pocket and I feel it against my hip.

  “That’s probably Zane. You want to look at it?” I ask.

  “Nope. He’s getting enough airtime tonight. I want you all to myself.”

  I’m totally good with that and we remain in that position until Zane is announced and we let go of each other long enough to yell and scream and clap as he comes onstage. The crowd goes absolutely nuts and he reels them in with his sexy banter and the start of his first song. Once again, I’m bowled over with just how good he really is.

  “He’s awesome,” I say to Mateo as we sway together to the music. “Really good. Does he have a record deal yet?”

  He shakes his head. “He gets lots of work as a songwriter but he’s taking his time picking the label. I think he’s waiting until after he goes on tour to pick the one he wants.”

  “Tour?”

  “He’s going on tour with Kit Landry as one of her opening acts. His manager thinks he’ll get a bigger deal once he’s made a splash in major cities.”

  “How the hell did he get a gig with Kit Landry?” I turn to face him and Mateo stares down at me as if he’s trying to decide if I’m joking with him or not. “What? What did I miss?”

 
“I guess I just figured you knew,” he says and grins. “My cousin Max is engaged to Kit. Zane is one of her primary songwriters and we practically live at their house. They feed us and we provide slave labor for all the renovations my cousin insists on doing himself.”

  “Really? I’m a huge Kit Landry fan.”

  “Well, I happen to know she’s a huge Carlisle Queen fan. I’ll introduce you.”

  I nod as he pulls me into his arms and I loop my arms around his neck. We dance like that for a while as Zane rolls through his set behind us and before I know it, he’s done and the next local band is being ushered on stage.

  “Let’s go.”

  Mateo takes my hand and leads me down the stairs, nodding at the security guard as we pass by. He places me in front of him, using his larger bulk to part the crowd as we make our way towards the parking area. His hands, heavy on my hips are grounding and sexy at the same time. The slide of our bodies together as we walk in tandem is like blowing air on the smoldering embers of lust we’d lit earlier tonight. It won’t take much to get me going. I’ve been thinking of this since the last time we were together.

  “Are we supposed to go catch Zane backstage?” I ask, tilting my head and giving him access as Mateo places soft kisses on my neck. The night is cooling off, not enough to make me cold but the combination of the breeze and his attention is making me shiver, super aware of every inch of my exposed skin.

  “No. He’ll have plenty of company for the night. Brunette. Blonde.” He murmurs against the skin on my shoulder, his teeth tugging gently on the thin strap of my tank top. “I’m partial to redheads at the moment.”

  “For the moment?”

  “Well, I have a very short attention span. Early diagnosis of sexual ADD.”

  “That sounds serious,” I tease, skimming his forearms with my nails and loving the rise of goose bumps on his skin. “What’s the cure?”

  “I need to get somewhere and focus on my task. Give it my undivided attention for hours.”

  Getting somewhere and letting him focus on me sounds really, really good. It feels even better when he spins me around, the cool metal of a truck cab against my back and hot, hard male on my front.

  He takes my mouth, simple possession with soft lips and velvet tongue as he coaxes a moan from deep in my throat. I weave my fingers through his hair, pulling him back to me every time he tries to pull away. He tastes of the beer he had during the show, red hot gum, and spicy, half-latino lover.

  I travel my hands along the wide expanse of his shoulders, tracing the ripple of defined muscle in his back until I can cup his ass cheeks. Pulling him forward with one rough tug, I grind my pelvis against his hard length and curse the two layers of denim cock blocking me.

  I have three brain cells that are not occupied with how I feel right now and it’s enough for me to coordinate reaching between our bodies with shaky, sweaty fingers and unfastening the snap and easing the zipper down just far enough for me to feel the heat of him through the fabric of his boxer briefs.

  “Tu Me Vuelves Loca,” he groans against my lips, dipping back in to taste me one more time, his tongue probing in sync with the rhythm of his hips thrusting into my palm. “We need to find somewhere I can get you horizontal.”

  He doesn’t wait for my agreement, although I am completely on board with that plan, and pulls me between the cars parked in orderly rows in a large field. I think this is a farm or something when it isn’t hosting a music festival and there are no lights except for the ones aimed at the festival. It gets darker and darker as we move farther from the crowd.

  He stops next to his car and pulls me to him for another deep kiss, tongues and teeth and moans from us both. He breaks the kiss long enough to place his hands at my waist and lift me over the door and toss me into the backseat. He’s left off the drop top and two seconds later he climbs over the side and joins me in the deep backseat.

  “I don’t think I can drive right now. You’ve got me too jacked up,” he says. My eyes are adjusted to the darkness and I can see him sprawled against the seat, hair mussed from my hands, lips swollen. The sensitive skin on my neck, my chin and cheeks is tingling from his stubble, and I’m excited by the idea that I might have his marks on me tomorrow. “I feel like I’ve been hard for hours.”

  I glance down at his crotch and can see the outline of his erection through the soft denim, the patch of dark hair above the line of his boxer briefs visible in the “v” of his open fly. I move to straddle him, not lowering myself all the way down, leaving enough room for me to insert my hand under the fabric and stroke his cock. His head thuds back against the seat and he lets out a soft “fuck”.

  “That’s what I want.” I lean over, pressing my lips against his so he can feel and hear my words over the music coming from the stage. “I want you to fuck me. Now.”

  Mateo moves then, his fingers suddenly speared through my hair, forcing me to look at him. He looks as crazed as I feel. This thing between us is bringing out every primal and reckless instinct inside me. Inside both of us.

  “People are everywhere. They could see us,” he says, his voice ragged with his own need and the effort to verbalize with my fingers wrapped around his penis. “I don’t give a shit but I’m an exhibitionist asshole. Are you sure?”

  “I want it. If you won’t do it then I’ll find somebody who will.”

  I think I see an actual flash of blue fire in his eyes at my words. I wouldn’t go find someone else when my body is screaming that it only wants him but I remember what he said earlier about not sharing me with anybody as his fingers stroked me. I want that possessive, growly guy all over me, inside me, and I will not settle for anything less.

  “Es usted un coño?” I say, issuing my final challenge.

  Chapter Six

  Mateo

  I can’t believe she just asked if I was a pussy.

  In the worst accent ever heard.

  I know what she’s doing. She’s pushing my buttons, controlling this scene as much as she can. Classic Carlisle. My control-freak fuck buddy whose lust runs hotter than the red in her hair. Normally, I don’t like games. I don’t like the push and pull of a mind fuck when I just want to screw a willing body.

  But Carlisle’s games? Hot. Intriguing. And they make me laugh.

  My lips curl up at the corner at the taunt and I bite back a groan at the way her pupils dilate when she realizes she’s going to get exactly what she wants and more. I tighten my fingers in her hair, drag her face down to mine and part her lips with a brutal kiss. Her grip on my cock tightens and I buck up into her grasp, aching to feel her touch on my skin.

  Carlisle gives back as good as she gets. The nails of her other hand dig into my shoulder and I wince at the spark of pain. It only makes me harder. I let go of her hair, break away from her mouth and drag her tank top straps down to expose her breasts to me. She isn’t wearing a bra and I waste no time cupping them both in my palms, dragging my thumbs across the tips.

  Her head falls back and she starts with those noises that drove me fucking crazy the last time. Ragged sighs and moans as I stroke her flesh, teasing her pink nipples into hard, tight points. And then she starts with the talking and I wonder if I’m going to come in my pants like I did the first time I ever went down on Erin Delaney in this very car, on this very seat.

  “Teo, suck on me. Put them in your mouth.”

  I want to. Jesus, do I want to do exactly as she commands but I cannot resist teasing her for a little while. I lean forward, making sure my lips skim the curve of her breast, leaving a trail of hot, moist breath as I make my way to her neck. I lick the long column of ivory flesh, nibbling the skin over her pulse point and loving the way she jumps at the contact. I take my time, dragging it out until she grabs my hair in her hands and yanks my head back to force me to look at her.

  “Teo. I asked you to suck on my tits. Do it or I will kill you.”

  I laugh, enjoying the way her eyes narrow even more.

  “Go ahe
ad. Get mad,” I tease. “It’ll only make it hotter.”

  She growls and pushes my head down to her breasts and I give her what she wants because I’m dying to see her fall apart like she did the other night. Licking, teasing, sucking the hard nubs of flesh into my mouth. I trail my hand down to the space between our bodies and pull up the hem of her short, denim skirt. The scent of her arousal mingles with the summer scent of sunshine baked into earth, fresh-cut grass, and sunscreen to form the most delicious perfume.

  My mouth waters and my dick leaks as I slide along the moisture slicking her thighs. She is so wet that my touch glides over her folds as I caress her flesh. She grinds her body down onto my hand, seeking that pressure in the best place possible but I won’t let her have it, groaning low in my throat when she whimpers above me. I finally glance a fingertip over her clit and she shudders, her weight collapsing onto me as her legs start to shake.

  “Teo, I’m going to come.”

  I instantly release her nipple from my mouth and remove my hand from her skirt. I lift my hands to frame her face, my voice low and harsh against her ear.

  “Don’t you dare come right now. I want to drink it up. It’s mine and that’s how I want it.”

  “Fuck you,” she growls and then her voice goes softer. “Then take it. Please,” she pleads, her nails digging into the muscle of my forearms.

  I shift out from under her body, leaving her to face the back of the car, knees resting on the seat, ass up in the air and the top half of her body draped over the back end of the car. Behind her, way off in the distance is the stage, the lightshow making her form look like illuminated abstract art.

  I almost choke on my desire as it rises up in my chest and tightens every muscle in my body. I am primed, ready to go. But I want her to go first.

  “You look so fucking gorgeous. Everything about you says I can do whatever I want to you and you’ll take it.”

  “Anything you want,” she says, her hands clenching and unclenching, gliding over the smooth-as-glass paint job. She demonstrates her submission by spreading her legs wider, her skirt rising to expose the sweet curve of her ass.