Manster

by Cari Quinn

  “Are the lights out?”

  I supposed this was easier to do in the dark. I sneaked my arm out and clicked off the light beside my bed. “Yes.”

  “Good.”

  “Are yours?”

  “Mmm-hmm,” he said on a low voice.

  “Are you naked?”

  “I just got out of the shower. I have a pair of boxers on.”

  “What color are they?” The question popped in my head and out of my mouth before I could stop it.

  He huffed out a laugh. “Iron Man, actually.”

  “Tony Stark is covering your butt?”

  “Yes, kitten. They were a gift.”

  “By a woman?”

  “Yes.”

  I chewed on the inside of my cheek. Why did that bug me so much? I didn’t have any hold on this man, nor did I want it. Right?

  “My sister gave me all the Avengers for Christmas.”

  “What?” Startled, I bit back a groan. Crap.

  He laughed outright and I sank even lower. “I may or may not have an inappropriate reaction to your jealousy.”

  I flung back the blanket that was threatening to smother me. I was burning up and we hadn’t even started anything. Embarrassment would likely kill me by the end of this. But that last comment was too much. I didn’t know what to do with it.

  “What kind of inappropriate reaction?”

  “The kind that tents a pair of boxers, kitten.”

  “Oh.”

  “I’ve been hard for days. I know you’re not that innocent. I remember how you rubbed up against me last night.” He made a soft groan. “I’ve been thinking about it all fucking day.”

  I’d left the buttons of his shirt open so I was able to coast my hand across my stomach. I’d been living with a heaviness warming me from the inside out since we’d last been together. I knew what it meant now, and I wasn’t sure I was a fan. Blissful ignorance was a hell of a lot easier to live with.

  I cleared my throat. If I wanted the experience, I had to go all in.

  “I drank your coffee today. You know, just to remember how you taste.”

  The rumbling groan of his response made my belly flip around as if I was on an amusement park ride.

  “You haven’t truly tasted me yet. Those kisses you planted on me hardly count.” His voice was so low, it was just a bass growl.

  “Why is that? Do you not want to kiss me? I didn’t have any garlic yesterday.”

  “Because I know what’s going to happen when I get my mouth on you. Do you have any idea how hard it was for me just to taste your neck last night? To only cup those mouth-watering tits?”

  The rough edge of his voice dissolved any of the laughter that had been building between us for the last ten minutes. I knew I amused him. I wasn’t sure how long the amusement would keep him interested and I wanted to soak up every little bit of him until he got tired of me.

  There was an elegance to Hudson that unnerved me and excited me. But this side. The one that was slightly rougher. When he didn’t watch what he was saying or how he was saying it. Those were the moments that were even more dangerous. Those were the ones that made me want more.

  And wanting more wasn’t what this was supposed to be about.

  “Stop thinking. This isn’t about thinking. This is about you and me in the dark. Just like last night when you explored yourself. Tonight is about sharing that with me. Tonight, I’m going to make sure it’s only my name in your head when you’re coming.”

  I dragged in a breath. Unconsciously, my fingers slid up to cup my breast while he was talking. I rolled my nipple between my fingers and tugged the way he had last night.

  “That breath. Does it mean what I think it means? Are you just shocked? Or are you already touching yourself?”

  I immediately let my nipple go and flattened my hand across my midriff. “No.”

  “You were. What were you touching?”

  I heard a rustle from his side of the line. Was he touching himself too? Why couldn’t I just ask? God. Why was this suddenly so huge?

  The word huge brought back last night. He was definitely not a little guy. He’d surrounded me so completely. Holding me open while I was at the edge of sanity.

  He’d pushed for more. Demanded more. God, it had been so surreal and freeing.

  “Fuck, Piper.” His voice reverberated in my ear. “My hand around my cock is not going to be enough. But it’ll have to do for now. Guide me here. Tell me something.”

  Tell him what?

  I slammed my eyes shut and blocked out the sounds around me. The cats outside my room who were in the middle of their nightly zooms through the place, and the traffic outside my window because I had to have it cracked just a touch for some air.

  I pushed all of it away and focused on his voice. I lowered my fingers over the curve of my pelvis to my already swollen slit. “I didn’t realize there was a place inside me that could ache like this.”

  He didn’t say anything, and my tongue felt too big for my mouth. I wanted this to be good for him. I didn’t want to be the lame girl who fumbled through everything with him.

  I slid the tips of my fingers through the slickness that had grown just because he’d called. That he’d wanted to be here with me, if only over the phone. Then there was the sensory memory of him touching me ever so lightly last night.

  “I wanted you to touch me last night. Those long, gorgeous fingers would have found the way to make me come. But you were so patient with me. You waited for me to figure it out and held me while I…” Spit out the word. You can do it. It’s just a word. “While I came. It was so odd to have my first real orgasm with someone else’s hands on me, and yet not. Next time, I want the full experience.”

  I dragged in an uneven breath as I circled my clit. “My finger on my clit feels so good, but I know the little rough spots on your fingers would make it better. The way you tugged on my breasts, the way it burned and throbbed when you were just a little rough. It was so good. I feel like I need that right now.”

  “Do it. Rub just a little harder. Circle it then do that thing you did with your thumb. I couldn’t quite see it, but you shook in my arms so I know you liked it.”

  I used the side of my thumb and dragged in a shaky breath.

  “Yes. That sound. I can hear that in the back of my mind. When you’re holding on for just a minute too long. I like when you let go for me, kitten.”

  “I want you to as well.”

  “My hand has been around the base of my dick since the moment you started talking in that low voice. I don’t want to be the guy who goes off like a teenager, but you’ve had me so hard for so long.”

  “I have?” That didn’t seem fathomable to me. Not compared to the women in his life, but I was willing to believe him. I needed to believe him right now.

  My breath hitched as I flicked my thumb over my clit then soothed it with circles.

  I didn’t realize I’d whispered his name, but the groan that came over the line from his end pushed me just a little closer.

  “That’s it, kitten.”

  “I don’t want to.”

  “Why not?”

  “I don’t want it to be over. Your voice in my ear. You here with me.”

  “Jesus.” The sheets rustled over the line.

  “Are you touching yourself too? Tell me what you like.” My fingers slowed. I could drag this out. Make it last just a little bit longer.

  “Those little moans. I like those. I like the idea of the same coming from you with your mouth around my dick.”

  I dragged in a quick breath. I’d given men blowjobs before, but it had never been an enjoyable task. I was almost certain that wasn’t going to be the same with Hudson.

  “Me on my knees? Or do you prefer me in bed? Maybe waking you up when you least expect it?”

  “Multiple choice?” He groaned. “Right now, I’d love you in front of me any way I could get you.”

  “On my knees. I’d like to be on my knees wi
th you on my couch in front of the fireplace. Just you and me in that almost darkness. Your eyes glinting as they watched me.”

  “Fuck, kitten.”

  “I love when you say that. I shouldn’t. And it shouldn’t make me so…”

  “Wet?”

  “Yes. God, so wet. Slick and swollen. God, I don't know if I can hold off.”

  “Don’t. I want to hear you come. Pretend it’s my fingers. Push two all the way inside you. What does it feel like?”

  “Warm. So warm and tight.”

  A groan came from the other end of the line and it only pushed me further into myself. My brain fuzzed and the room noises were a distant thought as I threw my head back and shoved the pillows out of my way.

  “What are you doing? Tell me.” His voice was strained, but I was too far gone to soothe him. To explain everything to him.

  “Hudson.”

  “Tell me.”

  “Rubbing. Wishing it was you. My fingers aren’t enough. I need more. God.” I rolled onto my side, my legs clamping around my hand.

  “Roll over on your stomach.”

  I didn’t question him. I just followed his directive.

  “Rock against your hand. Slow and steady, baby.”

  My palm rubbed against the top of my clit as I rolled my hips against my hand. My other hand was gripping the phone. I wanted to put it down so I could use my other hand to do something.

  Anything.

  I rose onto my knees a little and my nipples rubbed against the sheets. The friction combined with the grinding of my hand, and I finally had to let the phone go. I didn’t want to lose his voice, but I needed my other hand.

  It went for my breast. The little bit of friction against my bedding was nothing compared to what I was able to do with my fingers. Rolling and tugging as I rubbed my clit was so much better. I felt like my body couldn’t hold in all of the pleasure. Black spots sparked behind my eyelids, and I realized I was breathing too fast.

  The knife’s edge of arousal was too much. I pulled my hand away. My breath was ragged as I reached for the phone and dragged it back to my ear. I heard his labored breath and the deep groan which reactivated the moan living in my chest.

  I gripped my cell tighter. My heart raced in reaction and I had to slide my hand back down. I was too sensitive. I couldn’t take another touch. But his voice urged me to drive my fingers back inside. Hard. Fast.

  His name broke from my lips as I rolled to my side and pulled my knees up against my chest to ride it out.

  The shuddering could stop anytime.

  I could stop reacting to him anytime.

  But maybe not until tomorrow.

  I held the phone closer to my ear. “Hudson?”

  “Yeah, kitten.” There was rustling on the other side of the line. His voice was even deeper if that was possible. “I’m here.”

  “Did you…” I trailed off.

  I tried to picture it, but it was just a little too out of my imaginative scope. Was his release a band of fluid across his flat stomach? Or more of a handful? Maybe not even that.

  “Listening to you come. Those groans ending in my name? Yeah, I came. How could I do anything else?”

  “Oh.”

  “I wish I was there. I wish there weren’t a few hundred miles between us right now.”

  I dragged my pillows back up where they belonged and curled into the cool cotton. “Me too. I never really wanted someone in my space before.” I winced. That was going too far. Not part of the game at all.

  “Well, I hope you don’t have a tiny full-sized bed or something.”

  I hummed out a laugh. “It’s a queen bed. Usually more than enough for me.” I waited a beat. “And a couple of cats.”

  “Hmm. That might be sufficient.”

  My cheeks hurt from the continuous smile. “Does that mean you’ll be in my bed soon?”

  “That’s a certainty, kitten. As for sharing the bed with felines…”

  “Yes?” This should be interesting.

  “Is this a test?”

  I laughed. “Maybe.”

  “I’m pretty sure the only pussy I want in my bed is yours.”

  How the hell was I supposed to respond to that? Well, besides doing a full cartwheel—which I hadn’t done in probably ten years—and letting out a resounding hurray.

  But my cats were an extension of me. Even if we got naked, that wasn’t going to change anytime soon.

  “Maybe they’ll allow me visitation?”

  I smiled again. “Good answer.”

  “I try.”

  “Will I see you tomorrow?” I hated to ask. Hated that I wanted to know so very badly.

  While I’d enjoyed our little interlude, my body still ached. It still wanted more than my own fingers. I wanted to chase these feelings and experiences for as long as I could.

  “I won’t be in until late.”

  “I don’t care.” My response was quick and possibly sounded desperate, but I didn’t care. I wanted to see him. “Come to my place when you get home. I don’t care how late it is.”

  He didn’t say anything for a few moments. “Are you sure?”

  “Yes. I’ll just go into work late.”

  “A true-blue booty call.”

  I rolled onto my back. “It will be, won’t it? More lessons?” I wanted to drag those words back. It didn’t only have to be about lessons, did it? Not anymore?

  “Lesson three will be advancing your curriculum. Are you ready for that?”

  I sat up, then swung my legs off the side of the bed. No, I probably wasn’t. “I’m ready.”

  “Then I’ll see you tomorrow night. Goodnight, kitten.”

  “Goodnight.” I hung up and stared at my phone. The call had lasted twenty minutes.

  How was I going to handle a whole night?

  I dropped my head into my hands. So much for that sleepy state of bliss I’d been enjoying.

  I stood up and pulled on sweats and a T-shirt. At least work made sense. I padded down the hallway to the French doors beside my fireplace.

  My workshop had been neglected for one huge ginger. It was time to rectify that situation.

  Then maybe I could sleep.

  11

  Wyatt

  I tapped my finger against the window of the freaking prop jet we ended up on to get home from Vegas. The promo gig had turned into a clusterfuck when Victoria had shown up in the middle of the acoustic gig we’d been slated to do.

  Not only had she disrupted the entire five song set, but she’d brought a twelve-person entourage to make sure everyone’s eyes were on her. The larger our gig was, the greater the chance was that she’d crash it.

  Thanks to her latest stunt, we’d missed our flight and had to take the last flight into LAX.

  We were currently sitting on the goddamn tarmac and they wouldn’t let us off the freaking plane. We were sixth in line to deplane.

  “Fuck.”

  Zach had his fingers laced over his middle as usual, his eyes closed. He could sleep wherever and whenever. I envied his and Hunter’s ability to do that. I was exhausted, wound, pissed, and I wanted a goddamn beer.

  “What’s your deal, man?” Zach didn’t open his eyes, but he still arched a brow. “Don’t give me that pissy face either. You’ve been a jackass since the gig.”

  “I’m just anxious to get home. Instead of a ten o’clock landing, we’re sitting here at one in the goddamn morning.”

  “Yeah, so?” He sat up and stretched. “Not like we have a bedtime, man. Or I bet I know.” He grinned. “You have a hot date. That cafe chick, right?”

  I shrugged. “Well, I was supposed to see her tonight, but now? Just the capper to a shitty day.”

  “The show went without a hitch.” Zach curled his lip. “Sort of.”

  I raked my fingers through my hair. “Yeah, the ‘sort of’ part is why I’m still pissed. What the hell was Reed thinking?”

  “Dude, I don’t know what the hell is going on with him. He
didn’t even come back with us tonight. Victoria Shear snaps her fingers and he goes running like a well-trained dog. I don’t fucking get it.”

  I knew there was some additional bitterness for Zach. He and Reed had been joined at the hip since we’d put the band together and now they were the terror twins no more. Bats was acting out or MIA. There was no middle ground.

  And more and more, Bats edged toward the missing-in-action end of things. He showed up for studio sessions and left as soon as humanly possible after any of the promotional things we had scheduled.

  That left Zach out in many ways. They used to write all the guitar parts together and now they didn’t. Instead of that lack of cohesion between them screwing up the album, Zach had been even more focused on the new music. The tension added another layer to the lyrics as well.

  But right now, I didn’t give two shits about any of it.

  I wanted Piper.

  I wanted this anger and stress gone. And for once I didn’t have to exorcise it with a drum kit or a heavy bag. At least if we ever got off this fucking plane.

  When the captain’s voice came over the speaker, I tipped back my head in relief. Finally, we were next in line.

  The next half hour was a lesson in patience and I’d run out five days ago. By the time we got to the airport garage, I’d ordered a Lyft to get me to her house. That was if she was still willing to take me.

  I was afraid to text her. I didn’t want her to say no.

  I shook my head when Zach held the door open for me on the SUV we used for a pickup. “Go on without me.”

  “Are you sure? It’s nearly two in the morning.”

  “I’m sure.”

  “All right. Hope she’s worth it, man. I’m ready for my bed. Alone.”

  I’d had enough of alone moments in my bed lately. I wanted a piece of hers.

  My huge condo had always been more than enough for me. The view of Los Angeles had been the perfect selling point. So then why was I craving the little house full of cat statues and desert landscapes? And the huge fireplace that gilded a certain woman’s skin.

  The coffee-rich scent of a crazy cat lady was my current drug of choice.

  When I spotted the car at the designated spot from my app, I ran for it. I didn’t want to analyze why. I just wanted her scent in my head instead of the stale, canned air of the airplane or the smog of the late night in the city.