by Cari Quinn
“Yeah, this is fucking embarrassing.” He shook his head in disgust. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?” Noticing the direction of his glance, she scrambled up and peered over the side of the bed. She let out a laugh. “Oh, oops.”
“Yeah. Oops. All your fault.” He yanked on her hair, dragging her closer for a hard kiss. Instead of shying away from her taste, she chased his tongue, drawing it into her mouth with a long, slow suck that made his spent cock give a halfhearted salute. “Jesus. You’re going to kill me.”
“Let me make it all better first.” Smacking her lips together, she slid to the floor in such a sensual move that he had to grab his dick again. “Uh-uh,” she chided. “That’s mine.”
She licked her way up his thigh, catching every stray drop before treating the other one to the same treatment. By the time she finished, his balls were in knots again and the head of his cock had swelled painfully. She swiped her tongue over the tip, making an appreciative hum that might’ve rolled his eyes back had he not been fixated on her as if his life depended on it.
He wouldn’t miss a minute of this.
She rolled her tongue down the side, traveling down to take teasing swipes over his sac. Her lashes dipped as she drew one of his balls into her mouth, sucking lightly while he fisted his hands in his hair and tried not to force her to take his length inside. She would get there. He might die first, but he’d let her find her own rhythm.
Her nails scraped up the outside of his leg and she applied the barest suction to his balls, one then the other, before she curled her super-strong fingers around the base of his dick and lapped at the head like she was in a champion ice cream eating contest.
Holy hell.
Her hair fell down around her face, hiding her features except for her reddened lips and smoky eyes. She could’ve been anyone. A sultry anonymous blonde. From this angle, she didn’t look like his bright best friend. This woman had seduction down to an art. Then she smiled up at him, and the jagged puzzle pieces inside him shifted into place.
This was Jazz. His Jazz.
Unable to wait another second, he grabbed her elbows and pulled her up, clamping his mouth on hers. “I need you.”
“Yes, yes. Please.” Her tongue whipped over his, heightening his urgency. “Condom’s too far.”
“Fuck them. I want you like this.”
He waited for her to balk. This was stupid. So stupid. She’d been on the Pill forever—when you lived with someone, you discovered those details about them whether or not you wanted to—but that didn’t mean they should take risks. Right now he couldn’t remember exactly why. His head felt deliciously light, and all the reasons for not doing what the hell he wanted seemed insignificant.
“Yeah. Me too.” She panted into his mouth. “Have to have you now.”
She straddled his lap, digging her knees into the carpet on either side of his thighs. Without another word, she impaled herself on him, sinking down to the root in a long, slow glide.
“God, yes,” he groaned, losing his breath at the feel of her vising around him. Slick and hot, her pussy gloved his cock, enfolding him in a blast of heat that scalded him from his feet to the top of his head. Her piercing scraped him, adding a zing of pleasure that traveled straight through to the base of his spine. Something this amazing couldn’t last long.
Neither would he.
Fluid and sleek, she rose above him, hands fisting in his hair as her mouth ghosted over his. “God, Gray. So fucking good,” she gasped.
“Can’t wait. Need more.” He wound his arms around her, slamming her breasts into his chest, and still it wasn’t close enough. He hauled her up in his arms and jockeyed her in his hold, stopping beside the bed to take her mouth. Her panting breaths echoed his, an unforgettable symphony.
Finally, they were together. All the way together.
She rode him wantonly, taking him deep as he rocketed upward. Goddamn, that piercing. She weighed next to nothing and with only a few adjustments, he managed to lock his arms under her thighs so he could surge into her again and again, rubbing over the crystals with each thrust. She took every bit of him, her sweet pink flesh swallowing his cock.
Riveted to the view between her legs, he tipped her backward, desperate to see more. She cried out and dropped her head back, exposing the long line of her throat for him to bite and kiss. Perspiration clung to her flushed skin, adding a faint sheen of dampness that he ached to taste. He couldn’t kiss enough places. He wanted to be everywhere at once. Licking her, fucking her, touching each inch of her flawless skin.
More than anything, he wanted to own her the same way she’d owned him since he was sixteen.
Her pussy clamped around him, so wet and tight he couldn’t see through the haze of his hunger, and he bent her backward, dangling her in the air while he hammered into her hard and fast. She held on for all she was worth, her moans escaping her along with her breath. As she started to spasm, he turned and dropped her onto the bed, climbing over her to drag her leg over his shoulder. He rubbed her clit and stroked into her, sinking in and holding while he slanted his mouth over hers. He whispered her name, the mystery and beauty of it, unable to hear anything anymore but the relentless beat of her heartbeat matching his.
That was the only music he needed. The only one that still made sense.
He linked his fingers with hers, gripping her hand next to her head on the bed. Swiveling his hips, he found a new spot inside her, sliding over it until she gasped and bowed up, her eyes going wide as she came undone. Her hot wetness gushed over him and he groaned and buried his face in her hair, his thumb still a blur on her clit, his hips still pounding. The song in his head wouldn’t stop. All Jazz.
“Gray,” she gasped, digging her nails into his back. “Oh God. It’s too much. I’m so dizzy.”
“Close your eyes. Feel.” He nudged her chin up and kissed his way down her throat, pressing his lips to the wild throb of her pulse caged in by her delicate collarbone. “Feel me.”
“I do. I can’t stop.” She clenched his hand and matched him stroke for stroke, her pelvis slapping against his with the force of his thrusts. Her slick heat spurred him on, driving him to fuck her so violently that his balls collided with her ass on every pass. And he still needed more.
“I can’t get deep enough. Jesus. Get on top of me.”
He switched their positions, pulling her over him, and latched his teeth on her swollen nipple, tugging on it without finesse. Crying out, she braced her fists on either side of his head and grinded on his cock, torturing them both with her piercing as she circled her hips in a frantic figure-eight. Goddamn, she was soaked. She bit her lip and moved faster, pushing more of her breast in his mouth. He grabbed her ass, yanking her down on him so powerfully that she whimpered. Such a delicious sound. He did it again, adding a twist of his hips, offering the counterpoint to her circling, and her whimpers increased.
“Don’t you hold back on me,” he growled.
“No. Can’t. I’m coming again.” She moaned the words as she fisted around him, squeezing so tight that he couldn’t stave off his own impending orgasm another second.
“Yes. God, yes.” He plunged one last time, grasping the full curves of her ass. He clung to her, his hands damp with sweat, while his release pulsed deep into her pussy. She shuddered over him, around him, finally collapsing on his chest.
But he still couldn’t stop fucking her, his well-used cock seeking her hot slit without his conscious help. He’d probably die fucking her. And he’d die happy.
A few minutes later, he sank his hands into her hair and lifted her head, chuckling at the weak flutter of her lashes. “You okay?” He swallowed over the gravel in his throat. “Did I hurt you?”
“Yes.” Finally opening her eyes, she flashed him a grin that was pure mischief. “It was absolutely glorious.”
He laughed again and wrapped his arms around her waist. Now her watermelon scent brought him peace rather than pain. Her hair smelled of
wildflowers, just as it always had, and that too only sweetened the moment. “I’m glad you think so.”
“Oh yes. Give me five and I’ll show you what else I think,” she teased.
When she dropped back down to his chest, he caressed her cheek, her jaw, her shoulder. He couldn’t stop touching her. Maybe if he kept touching her he could stave off the morning that had to come. It always did. “This meant everything to me,” he said, voice ragged.
“Me too.” She lifted her head. Tears brimmed on her lashes, nearly spilling over. “All I wanted was this. Just this.”
Framing her face in his hands, he tipped his forehead to hers. “Yeah.” He smudged his thumb under her eye, catching one of her tears. “You deserve so much more than me. But God, how am I supposed to give you up now?”
“You’re not,” she said fiercely. “Understand me? We’ve both given up too much for too long.” She snatched one of his hands and held it between her breasts. “You and me, we’re a team. Nothing can hurt us again.”
There were so many reasons that wasn’t true. But he went with the easy one, the one she wouldn’t hate him for. “Lila—”
“Fuck Lila. This isn’t about the band. This is about us. We were us before Oblivion existed. And we’ll be us long after they don’t.”
He glanced away, wanting that to be true so badly that he couldn’t speak. Until she said the rest.
“This isn’t just a one-time thing. We’re together now. Get that, Duffy? No going back. Tonight we made a promise to each other.”
As much as he hated having to argue, he couldn’t let this go. She needed to know what she was getting into. What he’d brought her into, willingly, because he wasn’t strong enough to keep her out. “Baby, you don’t understand—”
“Shh.” She closed his lips with her fingers and kissed the cleft in his chin. “I understand you’re mine. And I’m yours. Isn’t that right?” she demanded, almost daring him to fight the point.
But he couldn’t. Wouldn’t. How could he fight something he’d craved for so long?
He exhaled, his self-loathing growing with every passing moment. “Yes.”
“And we’re overdue on proving that to each other.” She shifted over him, rocking along his swiftly rousing cock. “I hope you took your vitamins today.”
Worlds lived behind her glittering blue eyes, ones he wanted nothing more than to explore. With her. Nothing made sense when she wasn’t at his side. The music had stopped, and right now, he didn’t need it. She was his melody. His breath and his heartbeat.
His very life, and the reason he still wanted to live it.
“Ditto.” He snagged his hand in her hair and flipped her over onto her back. Her giggle flowed over him, warm and precious and worth every sacrifice. “Better get ready, because I’m about to make up for a hell of a lot of lost time.”
* § *
Jazz woke to a softly strumming guitar. Still half-asleep, she smiled and burrowed deeper into pillows that smelled like the man she loved. She’d know the sage-and-cedarwood scent of his aftershave anywhere. The slightest hint of sweet smoke layered over it, a reminder of what had occurred the night before.
As if she’d ever forget the best night of her life.
Gray started to sing, his voice still husky from sleep. But his fingers were magic, like always. She grinned at the double meaning of that—oh so true—and opened her eyes, unable to wait even a second longer to look into the eyes she adored so much.
He sat cross-legged beside her, his beat-up guitar held in a loose grip. He played with such grace that she fixated on his hand for a good minute before she realized he was singing Van Morrison’s “Brown-Eyed Girl,” except he’d changed the lyrics to fit the eye color of the girl in his bed.
She was in his bed.
She hugged that blissful reality to her chest, closing her eyes to allow it to fully sink in. He continued to sing, his deep voice caressing the words as deftly as the instrument he coaxed to life in his hands. Somehow he knew every word, though she’d never heard him play that song. When it ended, he slid effortlessly into his rendition of the Stones’ “Brown Sugar.” She tried to stifle her laughter but she failed.
“Okay. The first one I got. Lovely lyric change, by the way. I love it.” She popped up on one elbow. “But ‘Brown Sugar?’”
“You’re awake.” He sounded so pleased by that fact that she almost forgot her question until his smile turned wicked. “Sure you want to know why I picked that one?”
Now she wanted to know more than ever. “Yes. Tell me.”
He set aside his guitar and leaned forward, brushing his mouth over her ear. “You smell like burnt sugar. Taste like it too. Sweet and sticky all over my tongue. I’m going to write a song.” He licked the side of her neck and she shuddered. “But in the meantime, ‘Brown Sugar’ works.”
“You’re a dirty boy.” Another laugh bubbled up in the middle of all the goosebumps. “I like it.”
Expression playful, he sank his teeth into her bottom lip. “Oh honey, you have no idea.”
“But I’m ready to find out.”
“We’ll see about that.” The corner of his lip curled into that naughty smile she’d wanted to kiss since she’d first laid eyes on him. Now she could.
She could do anything she wanted with him. To him.
Accurately reading her thoughts, he tugged her on top of him, embedding his hand in her hair while the other coasted down her back to her ass. He cupped one cheek, hoisting her leg higher so that her slit flirted with the head of his prominent morning wood.
“Good morning to me,” she teased, dipping her tongue into the laugh lines beside his mouth.
“Mmm-hmm. And I’m about to have breakfast.”
He hoisted her up his body, making her squeal. He clamped his mouth between her legs, his tongue arrowing along where she’d already grown hot and damp. Just kissing him and crawling around on his body were enough to get her motor humming. But his teeth scraping lightly over her hood piercing represented a surefire booking pass to orgasm central.
She fisted his hands in his hair and wobbled as he pressed the tip of his tongue inside, scooping up her wetness and swallowing with such audible appreciation that she couldn’t fight a blush. God, this man. How could she love him this much and not just shatter from it?
Everything seemed possible with hazy morning sunshine just beginning to trickle into the room, bathing the space in a romantic pink glow. Strong hands held her still, forcing her to take every bit of the pleasure he offered. He slid one hand around to part her folds, holding them open to lash her piercing and her clit with such focused attention that she scrambled backward and caught hold of his thighs to maintain her balance.
Bent backward, on the verge of a moan or a laugh—maybe both—she looked down to find that stormy gaze caressing her naked body. Suddenly she saw herself the way he must. Breasts lifted, nipples beaded and pink. Stomach quivering with every erotic kiss.
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered.
She feathered her fingers through his hair, slipping her hand down until it skimmed his mouth. Until her fingers trailed over his on her flesh. He kissed the tip of her thumb, sucking on it so slowly that a shudder rolled through her. “Oh God. I’m going to—”
Her cell went off, playing the Top Chef theme song that was Harper’s ringtone.
“Jesus. What the hell is that?”
“Oh shit, oh fuck, I forgot. It’s morning.” She tried to scuttle backward along Gray’s torso, but he wasn’t having it. He locked his arms around her thighs and did some kind of roll with his tongue that set off tingles all the way down to her G-spot. “Harper,” she wailed as the phone went off and immediately started again.
“We’re busy. She can wait.”
“But I have her catering truck—”
“And I have your pussy, and I’m not done with it yet. So shh before you make me get rough.” The teasing glint in his eyes accompanied his finger flick on her clit piercin
g.
Then he slipped his tongue inside her again, and she couldn’t hold back her scream as he rotated her piercing in time with his excruciatingly slow mouth-fucking. He hummed in his throat and pressed on while Harper called a third time, clearly frantic.
Jazz was frantic too, for a whole other reason.
She snatched a handful of his thick, silky long hair and pulled, bearing down on his mouth without shame. He used his free hand to knead her ass, encouraging her to ride his face with abandon. There was no way she could stop now. She slipped her other hand over her breasts, tweaking her nipples as the liquid sensation in her belly turned to drowning heat.
“God, keep going.” She squeezed her knees beside his head, rocking for all she was worth. “I’m so close.” Moving over him faster, she closed her eyes and threw her head back, twisting her nipple. Almost at the crescendo. She cried out as her core contracted and scalding waves of pleasure suffused her body, going on way past the point of insanity.
And he still didn’t stop.
“Oh no, I can’t.”
“You can. You are.” His words rumbled against her drenched slit, amplifying the endless aftershocks. “On my fingers this time.”
They slid inside her with ease, two and then three, working in concert with the same skill he employed on the guitar. He worked her hard, sliding in and out in a rhythm designed to cause her to lose her mind. Again. His lips closed over her piercing, tugging gently.
Gasping, she climaxed once more, her thighs vising to his ears as she flooded his mouth. He drank her down eagerly, licking up every bit of what she gave him.
When she was still shaking, still barely coherent, he scooped her up and flipped her on her back beneath him. “Fucking Gray sounds like an excellent idea,” he breathed, slanting his mouth over hers.
Tasting herself on his lips had to be the gateway to heaven. “Yes. I want you.”
He grabbed her thigh, pushing her leg straight up in the air. The tip of his erection nudged her where she still quivered and she moaned, already arching toward him.
