by Eden Summers
“Fuck.”
She glared. “I’ve warned you about swearing.”
“Then stop doing shit to make me fucking crazy.” He smirked, then held his breath as she descended, her body contorting like a pretzel as she came face to face with his crotch.
“Fuck.” His pulse was a staccato beat. “Fuck.” His balls were drawn tight. “Fuck.” His shaft was throbbing. He could already feel her mouth on him, could already imagine how warm and wet she would be.
She peered up at him, the determination in her eyes rendering him immobile as she yanked his boxer briefs to mid-thigh. “Ready?”
He shook his head. He was not fucking ready. He was too hard, too hot, too fucking insane with the need for her mouth that he thought he might blow in anticipation.
She chuckled, the bursts of breath brushing his cock in a teasing caress. “Too bad.” Her tongue came out, moistening her lips before swiping the head of his shaft.
He hissed. His hips bucked. And his throat was so dry he thought he’d die from the pain of it.
She turned her gaze to his dick, her attention moving from the pre-cum beading his slit, to his shaft and back again. “What do you like?”
“You…” He swallowed over razorblades. “I like you.”
She chuckled again. “Maybe you’ll like me even more in a minute.”
Her tongue flicked the moisture from the head of his cock, once, twice. He had to clutch the sheet to fight the need to thrust. She was teasing the life from him, making his heart pulse so damn fast he wondered if it’d soon stop entirely.
He begged her with his eyes, begged more than his words ever could. “Oh, god, Leah. Please don’t fuck with me.”
“OK.” She engulfed his length, her moist lips sucking him deep, blowing his entire mind with one simple movement.
He jerked into her and closed his eyes in an attempt to gain control. She worked him, up and down, over and over, pushing him to the brink. Little moans escaped her lips, the vibrations tormenting his shaft and thrumming through his bloodstream.
Blissful heaven.
Restrained hell.
When her fingers teased his balls, he knew he was in trouble. He was close. Too damn close. Too damn soon.
“Get your ass up here,” he growled, and cursed inwardly when he opened his eyes to peer down at her. When he’d first seen her in his bunk, she’d been the epitome of beauty. Now she was the goddess of sexuality with her lips ruby red, her cheeks flushed, and her hair partially covering her phenomenal breasts.
She released his cock with a pop and licked her lips. “Why?”
“Because I said.”
She quirked a brow but began crawling up his body.
“No.” He shook his head. “Just your ass. I want my mouth between those thighs.”
Her lips parted, her shock evident. Then she was complying, maneuvering ninety degrees to straddle him backward so her pretty pussy was in his face. He didn’t wait for her to get comfortable. He clutched her thighs and yanked her cunt down to his mouth, sinking his tongue deep.
She cried out and relaxed into him, letting him taste his fill as her lips sank back over his cock.
The volume of the movie increased, the boom, boom, boom of an action scene so loud it vibrated the walls. He didn’t care. He gave no fucks about his friends overhearing. He gave no fucks about being caught. The only fucks he gave were about Leah and making her come before he lost control.
The taste of her was playing havoc with his senses. The scent of soap and the musk of her arousal making him mindless. He sucked on her clit, sucked as hard as she was sucking his cock and then some. Her taste was all through his mouth, her juices coating his tongue. He couldn’t get enough. Never could. Never would.
He wove one of his arms further around her thigh, his thumb reaching for the clit piercing he both loved and despised. He flicked the jewelry, let his touch grind over it, again and again until she was bucking his face, his beard likely leaving a rash against her delicate skin.
Her palms pressed against his legs, spreading them wide as the sound of her suction battled over the garbled television.
“Ryan…” She was panting against his shaft. “Don’t. Stop.”
“Wait…” He tried to pull from her, otherwise he’d lose himself in her mouth, but she wouldn’t allow it. She took him deep, her tongue working frantically along his length, her fingers walking over his sack to the sensitive area before his ass. So close. So close.
She whimpered and her entire body went taut with release—arms, legs, lips. The grip of her mouth was so tight as she mewled that he couldn’t stop himself from following after her. His orgasm surged. Pulse after pulse coating the back of her throat. So much pleasure he couldn’t think straight. Couldn’t breathe through the taste of her.
He continued lapping her pussy, flicking her clit, repaying the gift of ecstasy. They descended together, the strokes of his tongue growing languid as she lessened the friction on his cock and relaxed on top of him.
Yet, he still wanted more. He continued to taste her. Slower. Gentle. Deliberate. He learned her folds, inside and out, lapping top to bottom. She wiggled and he held her thighs tight, her pussy still over his face.
“Ryan…” She groaned with another wiggle. “Let me go.”
Never. Not now. Not ever. But he released his hold, ignoring the hollow ache in his chest as her evaporating heat left him cold. She climbed over him, turning awkwardly so they were face to face before collapsing into her previous position against the wall.
He hadn’t done that before. Hadn’t lost himself in a woman’s mouth. Julie never wanted to do it and he never asked her to. It wasn’t a big deal. He knew his opinion of Leah shouldn’t change because of what just happened. Nope. Not at all. But it had. He was more enamored, more hypnotized, more in need of…more.
He kicked off the boxer briefs hovering at his knees and pulled her into his chest. “Come here.” He gripped her hips, dragged her on top of him, then over to the other side of the mattress closest to the curtain. “I don’t want to suffocate you in the corner.”
“Thank you.” Her eyes were dreamy, equal parts sex-drugged and sleep deprivation.
“You tired?”
“I am now.” She smiled and nuzzled into his chest like an exhausted kitten. “Tired and content.”
He pulled her close, resting his chin against the top of her head as he closed his eyes. “I love seeing you like this.”
“Naked? I’m not surprised.”
“No, seeing you relaxed.” He chuckled. “And with your guard down.”
She nodded. “It’s nice to be able to feel that way with someone. Being vulnerable has its advantages.”
“You’re not vulnerable with me.” He kissed her forehead. “I’ve told you I’d never hurt you.”
“I know.”
There was something hidden in her reply. An underlying fragility he didn’t want to pinpoint. Her confidence in him would take time, and he wasn’t going to push her. He had her love. He had her affection and her lust, too. Even though he hated hiding what they shared from the rest of the world, being the only one to know how she felt was enough for now.
“Hey, Mace?” he called over the drone of the television. “Can you quit the noise?”
The volume decreased along with the vibrations of the walls. “You two done?”
“For now.” He had plans for later. Many plans.
There was a grumble, then the television cut completely.
Leah remained against him, her fingernail tracing intricate lines over his chest as the others prepared for bed. Toilets flushed, doors slammed, curtains were slung back and forth. Then the lights were off. The hum of the engine the only sound apart from the whisper of her breath.
“Good night.” She lifted her chin and grazed tempting lips against his.
“Night, gorgeous.”
She rolled over, her body spooning into his, chest to back, ass to crotch, thigh to thigh. He could feel her
everywhere, against his skin, even under it.
His love for her was pulsing through his chest, affecting every breath. He leaned his forehead against her shoulder trying to deny how destroyed he would be if he ever lost her. There was no way back from here. No peace without her. No hope if she wasn’t in his arms.
There was only her. Only them.
And he was going to make sure it stayed that way.
Chapter Eighteen
Leah was the first awake in the morning. Ryan was breathing heavy beside her, his arm wrapped around her back, her face nestled against his chest. He had her cocooned in his embrace, kept safe and warm from the reality on the other side of the curtain.
They hadn’t slept much. Not between the silent lovemaking and whispered conversations as they flittered in and out of consciousness. She was finally done with fighting. This was her life now. With him. All they had to do was make it work.
All in good time.
She inched forward, holding her breath in an effort not to wake him.
“Where are you going?” he mumbled against her shoulder.
She smiled, loving every aspect of waking up beside him—his heat, his security, his graveled tone. “Coffee.”
He clutched tighter, making her chuckle.
“I’ll only be gone for ten minutes. I promise.”
“Not a minute longer.” His voice was rough from sleep, dark and devilish.
She eased his hand from her waist, kissed his knuckles, and slipped under the screen. After a quick trip to the storage cupboard to retrieve her clothes and cell, she changed and freshened up in the bathroom. She’d been in there for five minutes max. but the sweet sound of Ryan’s slumber greeted her when she returned to the aisle.
She inched the curtain across and stared at him. Her man. Her love. There was no looking back now. No need or desire. There was only determination to move forward. To secure her boss’s approval, kick Julie from their lives, and slink away from the Slicker publicity.
The first hurdle was her boss, and without a plan in place, it would come down to good ol’ fashioned pleading. All she could bank on was her feminine wiles and a track history of bringing successful men to heel. She wouldn’t be able to admit they were already together. Those details would only work harshly against her. But if she acted as though she was seeking approval before making a move, maybe her boss would take pity on her.
She released the bunk cover and exited the curtained sleeping area to drink in the sight of a barely waking Kansas City.
An orange glow crept along buildings, turning night into day. Darkness into sunshine. She gave Pat a finger-wave through the rearview mirror as she approached and he flicked out his earphones with a smile.
“Mornin’.”
“Morning.” She sank onto the corner of the booth seat, placed her cell on the table, and hunched toward him to take in the view.
“How long until we’re at the stadium?”
“Twenty minutes if the traffic is good. But we’ll be in the secure parking area if you want to catch a few more hours sleep.”
“I’m good.” The confinement of the bunk wasn’t conducive for slumber. Neither was the erection that had nuzzled against her ass on and off all night. “Want a coffee?”
“Nah. I stopped a few hours ago and bought some gas station sludge. It’ll keep me going for a while.”
“Poor thing. Let me know if you need anything. I’m going to get some work done while there’s peace and quiet.”
“No problem.” He nudged his earphones back in place and focused on the traffic as she made her way to the compact kitchen to switch on the drip machine. While she waited for liquid goodness, she checked social media, scanning the usual blogs and headlines to make sure the Reckless world was stable. Apart from an increase in questions regarding Mason’s sexuality, everything was quiet on the band-front. Slicker were still a major topic of discussion, with Ryan’s involvement highlighting most tweets and posts.
Once her coffee was ready, she slid into the booth and started brainstorming. Ryan was doing well to keep his relationship in the spotlight, but there needed to be more. More hype, more publicity, more sales. She no longer wanted to sit on the sidelines and watch him manipulate the media. She needed to take charge. To grab the promo stunt by the horns sooner rather than later to get the rabid Grander monkey off their back.
Ideas came to her in quick succession and she ended up having to scavenge through cupboards for a notebook because her typing fingers couldn’t keep up. Page after page of garbled notes were scribbled. All they needed was a chart topper. One measly chart which would’ve been a cinch for Reckless and would end up being a miracle for the lesser-known Slicker.
She was preparing to make a second coffee when the bus slowed and turned into the stadium entrance.
“It looks like security are already here and waiting.” Pat pulled the bus to a stop and cut the ignition. “I’m going to stretch my legs and have a smoke. You good?”
“Yep.”
“I’ll close the door once I’m out, so y’all can have some privacy and catch some more sleep.” He descended the stairs, the doors closing seconds later.
Someone groaned from the bunks, followed by the rustle of sheets, then silence. The guys wouldn’t wake for hours, giving her more time to concoct one of the many necessary plans. And with the planning came excitement. She was pumped to speak to her boss. Figuring out a way to gain her wildest dreams was making her giddy… Or maybe that was the caffeine.
Either way, she was optimistic for a future with Ryan. The pleasure in her chest couldn’t be denied. If she could make this work, she’d have everything she’d ever wanted—the career, the future, the love.
But…
If…
How…
When…
She shook away the confronting questions and took another gulp of coffee. Her cell began to move, the vibrations signaling an incoming call. Bruce. She wondered if her thoughts had been loud enough to wake her boss.
“Hey,” she whispered. “You’ve hit the grindstone early.”
“Not by choice.”
“And why is that?”
“I just got off the phone from some no-name blogger who warned me of a podcast she uploaded last night. Apparently, it’s starting to gain traction and local radio stations are airing snippets in their gossip news—”
“Hold up. What blogger? What snippets? I’ve already scanned social media this morning and nothing triggered my radar.”
Another ring tone sounded from the bunks, followed by the clearing of a throat and Ryan’s gravelly voice.
“I can’t remember the name but I’ve got the details in an email along with a link to the podcast. She wants you to contact her about an opportunity to respond to the claims.”
When the third ringtone sounded she stood, her stomach flipping at the sudden influx of communication. One call at this hour was understandable. Two was a coincidence. But three signaled trouble.
Big trouble.
“What claims?”
“I haven’t listened to the interview yet. I wanted to contact you first, but she said there’s some controversial stuff in there about Reckless.”
“Who did the blogger interview?” Felicity better not have opened her damn mouth. Or Hannah. Fuck, if it was Scott she’d kill him.
“It’s the disgruntled wife of your guitarist. Apparently, she’s flinging accusations at her husband, the band, and you.”
Fuck.
“Can you forward me the information?”
“I did, two seconds before I connected the call. And if this blogger is to be trusted, the information would’ve been shared minutes ago, after the last news update.”
Leah closed her eyes. Judging by the phone calls taking over the bus, the manipulator hadn’t lied.
“After all these years in my employment, I hate having to ask you this, but…” He paused and she knew exactly what would come next, the disappointment, the questioning. “Have
you crossed a line? Is there something I should be worried about?”
Images from last night flooded her. Ryan’s cock in her mouth, his tongue on her breast, his fingers in her pussy. “I don’t know why Julie would involve me, but she’s been stalling with the divorce. It could be some sort of power play.”
“Band drama is inevitable, Leah. We both know that. I do, however, get antsy when my managers hit headlines. It’s not the look I want for my company.”
“Give me half an hour to see what we’re up against—”
“I will. But if this is trouble, you need to shut it down. You’re supposed to blend into the shadows. And if you can’t do that, maybe it’s time to take a vacation. Recharge and let someone else take over for a bit.”
“You don’t even know what she’s said.”
“No, I only know you took your first emergency leave a few months back because of something Ryan did.”
A kiss. That kiss.
“Bruce, I disclosed all the information about that situation with you. You know I wasn’t to blame. You trusted my judgment and the promise it would never happen again.” Only it had, and now her argument was killing any chance she had to renegotiate her contract. “I took a break when I needed it back then. You need to continue to trust that I know what I’m doing.” Even when she didn’t trust herself.
“I trust you. I just don’t like hearing about more drama from your camp. It’s not like you to drop one ball, let alone two.”
“I haven’t dropped anything,” she grated. “Let see what the mess is and I’ll call you back.”
She waited for his muttered agreement before she disconnected the call and rushed to her bag to retrieve her earphones. Ryan was still talking. Mason, too. Both conversations heated and angry.
As she returned to the booth, she navigated to her emails, found the link, and turned up the volume.
“Welcome listeners. Tonight we have Julie Bennett joining us from the comfort of her Manhattan apartment. Good evening, Julie.”
Leah scanned forward, bypassing the introductions as she slumped in her seat.
