He moves higher, kissing the valley of my cleavage. “Like?”
I can’t think when he does that. “Like where are we going to live?” I try to scowl when I pull his head back by his hair, but it’s hard when he’s grinning up at me like that.
Ten shrugs as I release him. “Wherever you want. I have a place in LA, but I’m not opposed to moving.”
“So if I wanted to live here in Vegas…?”
He shrugs again. “Then we’d live here. I know how much your family means to you.”
“What about your family? Are you close with them?” When I Googled him this morning, it wasn’t exactly with the intention of finding out his life story. But I was able to discern that the jackass who woke us up this morning—the one who I thought bared a passing resemblance to Ten—is not only his band-mate but his brother too.
Which makes the jackass my new brother-in-law. Lucky me.
“I’m close to my brother. My parents are…a little self-involved. Sawyer and I were raised by nannies for the most part, but we see them from time to time.”
That sounds so sad. My dad bailed on us before I could even form lasting memories of him, but my mom more than made up for his absence. I can’t imagine having two indifferent parents. “Do you spend holidays with them?”
He laughs. “No. We might’ve spent our first couple of Christmases with them, but then they started vacationing over the holidays. Bora Bora, Turks and Caicos… Somewhere tropical and kid-free.”
My heart breaks for Ten. “That sounds awful. When we have kids—”
My mouth snaps shut when I realize what I just said.
He frowns. “What?”
Heat blooms across my face as I slowly remove my foot from my mouth and awkwardly laugh. “I just realized I don’t even know if you want kids.”
“I want your kids.” He reaches up and softly brushes my cheek.
Chase and I never seriously talked about having kids. He talked about marrying me in some far off, distant future, but he never asked if that’s what I wanted.
He never asked about anything I wanted out of life, which was a huge red flag. I knew he wasn’t Mr. Right and that he never would be. All he was ever going to be was Mr. Right Now.
But Tennessee… I’ve known him twenty-four hours and I trust him with my life.
I trust him with my future.
Leaning into his touch, I smile. “Yeah? How many?”
He grins. “As many as you’ll let me put inside you.”
“So if I want fifteen kids?” I don’t, but I’m curious as to what his answer will be.
“Then we’d better start right now.” He leans in to kiss me and I press a finger to his lips, stopping him.
This is important. I need to know we’re on the same page.
“I’m not gonna pawn my kids off on nannies,” I warn him. “I want to be there for every soccer game, every recital, every birthday and holiday.”
He kisses my finger. “I want that too. I want a real family with you.”
The way he says it, so honestly and so heartfelt, has my chest squeezing tight as emotion floods me. How can I feel so much for someone this fast?
His stubble is rough under my fingers as I hold his face and kiss him deeply, trying to show him what I’m feeling, but can’t quite bring myself to say. He kisses me back with just as much heart and fire, stealing my breath, my thoughts, as he wraps his arms around my waist and lowers me into the warm water.
My arms lock around his neck, my legs encasing his hips as he starts to carry me out of the pool and through the suite. I’m vaguely aware we’re dripping water everywhere, but it’s hard to care when he’s kissing me this passionately.
Tennessee King kisses like he sings—rough, raw, and deep.
I’m melting into him as he licks, flicks, teases, and nips his way into my mouth and into the bedroom, laying me down on the plush mattress.
“You’re getting the bed all wet,” I murmur as he climbs atop me.
He pulls the knotted strings on the sides of my bikini bottoms one by one, until the fabric falls off me and my pussy’s exposed. “The only thing I care about getting wet is you, Mrs. King. I want you fucking drenched for me,” he says, kissing a path down my stomach before licking up my slit.
My breath catches as I grab fistfuls of his hair, spreading my legs as far as they’ll go. His tongue is warm and wet as it swirls around my clit, and when he rapidly starts to flick it, I begin rocking my hips.
I mindlessly grind my pussy against his sinful mouth as arousal seeps out of me. Ten laps it up like a cat drinking from a saucer of milk before shallowly thrusting his tongue inside me.
It’s a teasing taste of what’s to come, and I need more. I need it now.
“Get up here and fuck me,” I say, leaning up to watch his tongue tease my clit in wet, sweeping licks.
It’s driving me wild to see his mouth fucking me, my bare pussy glistening from the mixture of his saliva and my juices. When he sucks my clit into his mouth and slips two big fingers inside me, my head falls back in ecstasy as a moan slips from my throat.
“Quit teasing me already and fucking fuck me,” I beg, my tits bouncing from his fingers pumping into me.
He releases my clit with a loud pop. “What kind of birth control are you on?”
“Why?” I ask when he curls his fingers inside me, hitting that magical spot. It’s so hard to think when he does that.
Ten asks me another question, but I can’t concentrate on anything other than the feeling of his hot mouth working in tandem with his skillful fingers. If he keeps it up, I’m going to come all over his gorgeous face.
When he pulls away a second later, I actually whine.
“Are you on the pill?” he asks again, harsher this time.
He kneels between my spread thighs and pushes the waistband of his boxer-briefs down, freeing his massive cock. The metal piercing glints in the light as he slowly strokes himself, his hand running up my thigh to rub my clit in little circles with his thumb.
Licking my lips, I nod. “Yes,” I answer breathlessly. Wetness drips out of me as I watch him touching himself, his muscles flexing with every movement.
I desperately want him to sink his fat cock inside me, but I’m also dying to wrap my mouth around it and see how far I can take it down my throat. My pussy clenches at the thought of doing one right after the other—of licking my juices off his drenched cock after he’s fucked me with it.
Ten hovers over me, running his pierced tip along my folds and around my clit. “Have you taken it today?”
“Not yet.” I’m trembling with anticipation, my pulse fluttering, my breathing shallow as I wait for him to push it inside me. Instead he teases me by parting my lips with his cockhead, barely even inserting the tip.
I rock my hips, grabbing his as I try to work him in.
He grins and slides the underside of his cock along my wet folds, gliding back and forth over my clit in teasing thrusts. His piercing rubs me with every pass, driving me mad.
I can’t fucking wait to feel that rubbing the inside of my pussy.
Leaning down, he kisses me. “You want my dick?” he murmurs against my mouth. “You want to feel it slide into these lips and stretch your pussy wide while it fucks you raw?”
I nod feverishly.
Ten rolls off me and removes his boxers. “Then get your ass out of this bed and go throw those fucking pills away. Pour ’em down the drain or flush ’em down the toilet for all I care. I don’t want anything standing in the way when I come inside my wife.”
My walls clench as my eyes squeeze shut. I shouldn’t be this turned on by the thought of him knocking me up.
My legs are shaky as I climb out of bed and rifle through my purse on the chair beside us. I pull out the plastic disc and head into the bathroom, popping today’s pill out of the foil.
I stare at it for a moment as it rests in my palm, making sure this is what I want to do. Instead of feeling doubt or worry, all
I feel is excitement.
Billy Crystal said it best in When Harry Met Sally—when you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible.
The pill clinks as I drop it in the sink, rolling around until it disappears down the drain. I pop the rest of the pills out and drop them down the drain too, then throw the plastic container in the trash.
Ten grins when I come out of the bathroom empty-handed. “Get your beautiful ass over here and sit on my cock.”
FIFTEEN
Tennessee
I fucking love Caroline’s body. There’s no thigh gap on her, no hipbones jutting out from her pelvis, or ribs so pronounced she looks like a fucking xylophone. Caroline has meat on her bones like a real woman should.
She’s got a perfect hourglass figure with thick, luscious thighs and a narrow little waist. And her ass…
I never considered myself an ass man before, but then again, I’ve never dated anyone with an ass like hers. The way it bounces when I fuck her is the most beautiful goddamn thing I’ve ever seen.
If I could Weird Science the perfect woman into existence, it’d be Caroline. No question.
She saunters over to the bed and climbs atop me, nestling my cock between her slippery folds. I run my hands up her thighs and grip her hips, rocking her slowly against my aching cock.
Her smooth, wet cunt feels like heaven as it slides over me, and it looks even better.
I watch her plump, pink-as-fucking-cotton-candy lips hug my shaft as she slides along me, getting my cock nice and wet with her silky sweet arousal. A milky bead of pre-cum drips onto my lower abdomen as she jacks me off with her pussy, my blunt crown growing swollen and slightly red the more she works me over.
I grit my teeth, trying to keep from blowing my load. “You’re gonna make me come if you keep doing that.”
Caroline smirks as she undoes her bikini top. “I thought that was the point?” she asks as her tits bounce free.
The sight of her full, heavy tits swinging above me almost pushes me over the edge. Growling, I grab her behind the knee and roll us over, making her yelp with the sudden movement.
“The point is for me to come in your pussy, not on it.”
Spreading her wide, I align my tip with her tiny entrance and push my way inside her tight, wet hole. I groan as I watch my cock disappear into her pink lips, forcing them to stretch wide and accommodate my thick girth. Caroline gasps as I pull out and push back in, coating every inch of my dick in her silky cream.
I fuck her slowly, getting her used to my size as I reach between us and tease her little clit. Her muscles constrict around me as a low groan escapes her.
She’s so wet, so tight as I plunge my cock in and out of her, her pussy milking me with each thrust. I already know I’m not going to last long, and when she starts gasping, begging me to fuck her harder, it takes every ounce of willpower not to completely lose it.
I throw her legs over my shoulders, my cock somehow finding new depths inside her as I fuck her hard and fast. I hold onto the headboard as my hips slam into the backs of her thighs, making her tits bounce violently. “Is this hard enough for you?”
Caroline claws at the sheets. “Yes, right there! Your piercing— Oh, god, it’s—” Her fevered ramblings are cut off by a brutal scream as she clamps down around my cock, her body bucking before going completely rigid, her toes curling. Her pussy squeezes me so tight it’s hard to move, and nearly impossible to keep fucking her through its vice-like grip.
I feel it milking me, her wet heat caressing me so good, so lovingly, that I shout out a string of expletives as my balls draw up. My cock twitches as pleasure dances along my spine, snapping my head back as thick jets of cum erupt from my cock. I feel it flood her pussy in a warm gush as I thrust a few more times, my big body shuddering over hers.
I lower her legs, feeling sluggish and euphoric as aftershocks tremble through her pussy, like it’s giving me one last hug before I leave. I reluctantly pull out, grinning when I see her clit throbbing with little tremors.
I rub my thumb over it, making her squirm as she swats my hand away.
“It’s too much,” she says between uneven breaths. “I think you broke it.”
“Nah, she’s just a little worn out.” I lie beside her and pull her toward me. Caroline turns so her back is to my chest, and I rest my hand on her stomach.
It’ll probably take a while for the birth control to leave her system, but the thought that I could’ve just put a baby inside her makes my chest swell with pride. She’ll make a great mom.
And with her by my side, I have no doubt that she’ll make me a great dad.
Once our heated bodies start to cool, I realize how cold and wet the bed is. “Somebody got the bed all wet.”
She laughs and rolls over to face me. “I told you.”
Smiling, I kiss her. “It was worth it.”
SIXTEEN
Caroline
Married life is pretty fucking great.
I’ve been on the road with Ten’s band, Kings + Thieves, for almost two weeks now. It’s cramped and chaotic, even with our own private tour bus, but everyone’s made me feel so welcome. This misfit caravan really is a family, and they’ve accepted me with open arms.
Even Sawyer’s warmed up to me. He gets a kick out of seeing Ten wrapped around my dainty finger, and busts his balls every chance he gets for being so “pussy-whipped.”
Life is pretty much perfect. I spend my days on the tour bus with Ten, curled up on the couch or in bed, and my nights are spent watching him perform from the sidelines. Seeing him up on that stage, in his element…it’s incredible.
He’s incredible.
How does that saying go? Guys should have a lady in the streets but a freak in the sheets?
Well, the saying works both ways, girls.
Ten is a perfect gentleman in public. He’s attentive and very big on affection. He’s constantly kissing me, holding my hand, or has his arm draped around me. He’s not afraid to show the world how much I mean to him.
And between the sheets? He fucks me like a sailor on leave every—single—night. It’s the best of both worlds—sweet and tender, yet filthy and raw.
The only downside to being on tour with Ten is that I miss my family.
I worry about my mom a lot, even though Ten hired someone to look after her. Yvette is a retired nurse and more than capable of making sure Mom gets to all her doctor’s appointments, has food in the house, and never runs out of her prescriptions.
Mom’s not too fond of her, though. Says Yvette’s a “hardass” because she won’t let her smoke, which only makes me like the woman more.
Tyler’s slowly coming around to the idea of Ten being a permanent fixture in our lives, but I don’t think he’s ever going to be okay with our personal business being fodder for gossip. Not that I blame him. I inadvertently stuck a target on his back when I married Tennessee King.
Everyone at school knows Tyler’s name now. They all know who his sister is and what she did. People he’s never met before now want to be his friend, hoping to get an “in” with Ten.
I hate that he has to put up with that, but it could be worse. At least he doesn’t have to deal with the paparazzi and Ten’s rabid female fan base.
Some of them have been really supportive of our marriage, but some act as if I’m some homewrecking slut who stole their man. It’s insane to think that there are actual women out there who hate my guts solely because I married Ten—a man they’ve never even met—but there are.
Bitches be crazy.
Crazy enough to leave nasty, hate-filled comments on my Instagram posts, forcing me to shun all social media. And they’re crazy enough to warrant a security team following my every move.
I can’t even walk around backstage at one of Ten’s concerts without security in tow. Which may be a good thing.
We might need them to intervene here in a second, because Ten looks like
he’s about to strangle the woman interviewing him from Entertainment Weekly. She keeps asking him blacklisted questions about me—things she was explicitly told by his publicist not to ask.
Based on everything I’ve read about Ten, he’s not exactly known for keeping his cool, but he seems to really be trying. I’m not sure if it’s for my sake, or because his publicist ripped him a new one when she learned about our quickie wedding a couple weeks ago.
She’s trying to put a positive spin on the world’s most famous rock star drunkenly marrying a stripper in Vegas, so she’s got her work cut out for her. Step one was forcing Ten to do this interview.
Step two is probably keeping him from storming out of it.
The woman leans in and asks, “Everyone’s dying to know—did you meet your wife at Sinful Temptation? Was she dancing that night?” like they’re two old friends sharing a piece of juicy gossip.
Ten’s jaw flits under his skin. “No. Not that it’s anyone’s business.”
She shrugs. “People are curious. You’ve been tight-lipped about your new bride.”
He forces a smile. “Some things should remain private.”
“Like the tryst you had with two other women on your wedding night?”
Ten laughs. “The fuck are you talking about?”
His publicist, Laura, looks like she’s about to have a stroke when he drops the f-bomb on television, but the interviewer seems completely unaffected.
She smirks as she says, “Two women have come forward, claiming to have engaged in a threesome with you mere hours before you married Caroline Talbot. They have candid shots of you and your band mates in your hotel room and more…intimate shots of just the three of you. Care to comment?”
My stomach sinks right as Laura steps in.
“This interview’s over,” she says, taking the microphone off her client.
Ten stands so fast he knocks his chair over. “No, it’s not. I didn’t fucking touch anyone else that night, and I haven’t since I got married. I want that on the record,” he says, pointing to the camera behind Laura, who’s trying to cut him off. Instead of listening, he raises his voice. “You think this is the first time some skanks have made up a story to get their fifteen minutes of fame?”
Perfect Ten: A Rockstar Romance Page 8
