Reverb (Songs and Sonatas Book 7)

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Reverb (Songs and Sonatas Book 7) Page 11

by Jerica MacMillan


  She rolls her eyes, the combination of her expression with her ponytail already askew from being smushed against the door and her lips all wet and swollen from our kisses is beyond adorable. “Maybe you should take over.”

  Taking a half step back, I remove my hands from her body so I can get rid of my shorts, too impatient to insist that she do it. “One of these days, you’re going to have to do it.”

  She kicks off her shorts and closes the distance I put between us, naked from the waist down. “If you’re feeling impatient, you shouldn’t distract me while I’m trying to do it then.”

  “But it’s so fun to distract you that way.” My own fingers fumble with the button after getting my belt undone, because she’s slipped her hands under my shirt and started bunching the fabric toward my armpits.

  “Better hurry,” she whispers in her sex-kitten voice. “You’re impatient, remember? Need to keep your focus.”

  I give her a mock-glare, tempered by my irrepressible smile. With a shove, I send my shorts to the floor, then raise my arms and help her get my T-shirt over my head, leaving me in my boxer briefs.

  She takes a step back, her right hand going to her chin as my shirt dangles from her left, making a show of looking me over from head to toe, and making a sound of appreciation. “I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of looking at you.”

  “The feeling’s mutual. Now take off your shirt and let me see those gorgeous tits.”

  Her nostrils flare and her eyes flash, but she drops my shirt and moves to lift hers. “It shouldn’t turn me on so much when you say things like that.”

  “Why not?”

  Her shirt clears her head, and she drops it, reaching behind her to undo her bra as I step right in front of her and push the stray tendrils of hair off her forehead.

  Her brows wrinkle, and she stares at my chest for a moment, reaching up to smooth a hand over my pecs. “From anyone else, it’d piss me off.”

  I slide my hands up her sides once her bra is out of the way, weighing her tits in my hands and brushing my thumbs across her nipples, making them tighten even more than they already were. “But it’s me.”

  “Yes.” The word leaves her on an exhale as I bend to suck one of her nipples into my mouth. I’m not entirely sure if she’s answering my statement or reacting to what I’m doing. Either way, it works for me.

  Releasing her nipple and giving it a tender kiss, I give its twin the same attention before kissing my way up to her mouth. “You like it when I talk dirty,” I whisper against her lips.

  “I do,” she whispers back.

  I claim her mouth like I’ve wanted to since I saw her at the airport, wrapping my arms around her and clutching her to my chest like I’ll never let her go. Because this girl owns me heart and soul, and I don’t intend to ever let her go now that she’s finally mine.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Lauren

  For all his impatience when we first got to the room, and despite my begging him not to drag things out, Brendan takes his sweet time. He worships my mouth for long moments, his tongue stroking mine as he holds me tightly, his dick trapped between our bodies. I wrap my arms around his neck, pulling myself up as much as I can, losing myself in his kiss, enjoying whatever slight friction I can manage as I hook my leg over his hip again to get as close as possible.

  One of his hands travels down my back, pressing on my ass as he pushes his own hips forward, grinding against me, a sound of pleasure rumbling from his chest to mine. Then his fingers start exploring, gripping my cheek, pulling me open, sliding in and down. My breath hitches, and I tense a little as he comes tantalizingly close to my asshole, not sure if I want him to touch me there or not.

  He asked about it once. Does that mean …

  But before I can think too much about it, he slides closer to my pussy, spreading me open with two fingers while another circles my opening a few times before dipping just inside. He keeps it up, circling, dipping, circling, dipping, over and over until I’m trying to press back against his fingers but also wanting to grind against the dick pressing into my belly at the same time.

  He laughs softly at my sound of frustration, and guides me back to the bed. “I’ve never gotten to just lay you out and explore you like I’ve wanted to.”

  My breath hitches again as I scoot back to make room for him, but he just stands at the edge of the bed staring down at me. “Are you going to do that now?”

  His eyes track up to my face, slowly, but eventually making it there. He quirks an eyebrow. “Do you want me to?”

  I open my mouth, not even sure what I’m going to say before I say it. I mean, that sounds like my kind of fun too, but right now … I shake my head, not even getting the words out before he starts chuckling again, his dick bobbing with the movement. And that’s when I realize I’m staring at it.

  “I see how it is.” He hooks his fingers around my ankle and slides my leg over before climbing on the bed into the space he just created. “You just want my dick.”

  I lick my lips as he leans over me, reaching for a condom from the bedside table. I hadn’t even noticed those were there before now. “Uhhh.” I was going to say something. But I can’t remember what it was. My brain is short circuiting as I watch him stroke himself a few times before rolling on the condom.

  He nudges my thighs with his knees, prompting me to move them even wider. Then he drops down on his elbows over me, drawing my attention to his face with a soft kiss. “What were you going to say?”

  Swallowing, I look into his eyes. This close I can see the mix of greens and golden browns feathering his irises. Dark flecks spot the individual feathery structures, like a golden peacock. His eyes are gorgeous. This isn’t a new revelation, but I’m always struck again by that fact when we’re together.

  The broad head of his cock nudges my opening, and I realize I still haven’t answered him. I lick my lips again. “I was going to say that I don’t just want your dick. I want you.”

  He rewards me with another sweet kiss. Then he nudges at my entrance again, not quite dipping inside. “But you do want my dick.”

  “God, yes.”

  With one hard thrust, he’s inside me. Gasping, I arch at the sudden intrusion.

  “That what you wanted?” He rocks against me, and I bend my legs so my feet are flat on the bed, moving with him.

  “Yesss. God, I’ve missed you.”

  “Missed me? Or missed this?” Mischief and affection collide in his eyes.

  “Both.” I wrap my arms around his torso and give a squeeze, squeezing my thighs against his hips at the same time. He’s still moving, but not a lot. Not yet. I know that’s coming soon, and I’ll enjoy the ride every bit as much as him, but right now it’s about connection. Physical and emotional connection.

  As much as we can talk and laugh and play with each other, it’s our physical connection that solidifies the emotional one. And after time apart, this is what makes everything right between us again.

  He places his lips on mine, and my eyes flutter closed as he brushes featherlight kisses on my mouth, my cheeks, my chin, my nose. When my eyes open again, he starts moving a little faster, each stroke a little longer, his gaze never leaving mine.

  I drag my hands down his back, scratching lightly with my short fingernails, then hold onto his firm ass, feeling it move with each perfectly timed thrust.

  He groans and kisses me, long and deep this time, his tongue tangling with mine. As soon as our mouths meet, he picks up the pace again, moving fast enough that all I can do is hold on and let him drive me to my orgasm.

  It builds and stretches, and I clench down on him, helping drive myself even higher, unintentionally doing the same for him. He groans, breaking the kiss, and starts whispering his unfiltered filthy thoughts in my ear. “Fuck. Yeah. Do that again. Squeeze me with your pussy. Squeeze my cock. Yeah, babe. Fuck. Just like that. Oh god, you’re ruining me. You ruined me already, and you’re doing it again. But that’s okay because I’m ruinin
g you too. Aren’t I? That’s why we can’t stop this madness. Couldn’t get over this even though we tried. This is the only cock that’s made you feel like this. Isn’t it?”

  My hands are still squeezing his ass, my fingernails digging in now, a strangled “unngghh” sound coming from my throat as he pounds into me.

  But that’s not good enough. Brendan wants an answer.

  “Isn’t it?” he demands at full voice, the sound cracking in the relative quiet.

  “YES!” I scream as my orgasm slams into me, leaving me shuddering underneath him as he drops his head to my shoulder and grinds his pelvis against mine, my orgasm triggering his.

  When we both relax, he slumps to the side. “Holy fuck.”

  I grin, remembering the last time I said that and he claimed our sex was a religious experience. “Holy fuck is right.”

  He lifts his head and returns my smile, giving me a brief kiss before getting up to deal with the condom. When he returns, he guides me onto my side and slides in place behind me, his arm cinching under my breasts and holding me close. He sighs in contentment, and I cover his arm with both of mine, feeling equally content for the first time in … I don’t know when. A long time, though.

  Even with Brendan when we’ve managed to cuddle like this, it was always with something hanging over our heads. But now, we have time to relax and enjoy. It’s even better than I expected it to be. Everything’s been go go go all the time since December, between school and lessons and recital and concerto contest prep, then flying off to visit Brendan at every chance. I haven’t been able to just relax at all in months.

  I hadn’t really thought about this as a relaxing trip either, but I’m not going to complain if that’s all we do.

  The next morning we enjoy a lazy breakfast in bed courtesy of room service and Brendan’s willingness to spoil me unnecessarily. We’re lounging against the headboard, sipping coffee and sharing the remains of a plate of chocolate croissants after demolishing omelettes and French toast. The TV’s on, but neither of us is really paying attention to the rerun that’s playing.

  “So what’s the plan today?” I ask between bites of a croissant, swiping my finger through a glop of chocolate that fell on my boob and sucking it off.

  When I meet Brendan’s eyes, they’re dark and heated. “Same as yesterday,” he says, his voice gravelly and hot.

  My breath comes short, and I make a show of sucking on my finger more. He lets out a groan and moves the plate with one lonely croissant still on it to his bedside table before plucking the half-eaten one from my fingers.

  “Hey!” But my protest is cut off by his hand cupping my breast and his tongue swiping across the remaining smear of chocolate. Then his lips find mine, his tongue pushing into my mouth tasting of mocha, and his body pushes me down into the pillows.

  When he comes up for air, it’s only to grab a condom. Kneeling between my legs he rolls it on. I stretch my arms over my head, thrusting my chest up, which prompts a low growly sound from him that makes me smile.

  “We’re just going to spend the whole time in bed? What was the point of coming to Vegas then? Why not just come to my place? Or me come to yours?”

  He doesn’t answer at first, instead arranging my legs how he wants—which is with my knees bent and my legs pushed open as far as they’ll go, my feet pressing against his calves—and rubbing his head all over me, coating both of us in my slickness.

  I hum in pleasure, pressing against him. After teasing my clit for a moment, he lines up and sinks inside me slowly, coming down on his arms over me and giving me a kiss when I lift my chin. We both sigh at the feeling of him filling me. I’m a little sore from our marathon last night, but it’s a delicious ache as my tissues stretch and pulse around him. He holds himself still, the urgency from yesterday lessened for the time being.

  When he breaks the kiss, he rocks into me once and stills again. “If we were at your place”—he drops a kiss on my nose—“you’d have a harder time just relaxing and letting me do whatever I want to you. You might be tempted to keep your normal schedule. Same thing at my place.” He kisses my jaw. “Here, we’re both out of our usual places, our usual routines, and we can just enjoy time for us.”

  I can’t argue with that logic.

  “Besides,” he continues, rocking against me again, “you know you want this more than whatever Vegas has to offer. My cock is the best part of this trip.” This time he gives me a real thrust, pushing me into the pillows.

  “Ungh,” is the only response I can come up with.

  “Yeah. That’s it. You like it when I fuck you slow. Just like this. Your pussy’s already clenching. I can feel it. If I just keep doing this, you’ll explode in almost no time.”

  This time he’s not looking for answers, just telling me what I like, what he likes, what else he wants to do to me on this trip, how I already told him that I don’t care about anything in Vegas except him. It’s a constant stream as he slowly and thoroughly fucks me.

  When my orgasm builds to unbearable levels, it detonates inside me, ricocheting out from where he keeps plunging into me over and over. For his part, he grits his teeth, chanting, “Fuck fuck fuck, you’re so fucking hot when you come, I want to see you come like this every day for fucking ever. Yes. Fuck yes.” And once I’m only trembling with aftershocks, he grabs my legs, folding them back against my chest and rides me hard till he explodes inside me.

  “Oh my god,” I whisper when he collapses on top of me. “I don’t think I’ll survive if you keep going at this pace.”

  With a low chuckle and a kiss behind my ear, he slowly gathers himself and pulls out. “Alright, fine. We can emerge for a little while. But we’re definitely doing plenty more of this while we’re here.”

  I roll onto my stomach to watch him go to the bathroom to clean up, enjoying the view of his ass as he walks away. “Deal.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Brendan

  Still lounging in bed, I pick up the padded binder that lists the casino’s dining and shopping options to make plans for dinner. The remains of our room service lunch sits on the table across the room, but we’ve been working up an appetite all day, so I’m getting hungry again.

  I offer to take her to the fancy restaurant in the casino, but Lauren shakes her head. “I didn’t bring anything to wear to a fancy restaurant.”

  I look at her in surprise. “Why not?”

  She spreads her hands. “Why? I don’t go to fancy restaurants. Like ever. It isn’t on my radar.”

  Setting down the binder, I level a look at her. “You brought a swimsuit, though, right?”

  “Of course.”

  “Good.” Images of her in that bikini in December flash through my head, and a slow smile spreads across my face. “The same one you wore on our trip?”

  Laughing, she reaches behind her head and grabs a pillow, mussing her hair as she yanks it out and tosses it at me. “No. I brought one that actually fits.”

  I catch it before it makes contact with my face, loving the way she reacts to me and wanting to tell her so. I don’t, though. Instead I peruse the images in my memory again, focusing on the subject of our conversation. “What was wrong with that one?”

  She arches a brow. “Aside from being hideous? It barely covered my boobs. I thought I might spill out at any minute. I was glad we were alone in the hot tub there, because I didn’t want to give any families with young kids an eyeful.”

  I chuckle. “I don’t remember it being hideous.” I remember it making me hard as a rock and needing to sprint back to the room so I didn’t embarrass myself, since she wore that before anything happened. “And we were there way past any kids’ bedtimes. Besides, the rooftop pool is also a bar, so it’s twenty-one plus. No kids to worry about there.”

  She shakes her head. “Still no. I didn’t bring it, so …” She shrugs. “Why? Is that where you’re planning on taking me for dinner?”

  “I thought we’d go to a restaurant, but maybe after.
For drinks and swimming and nightlife, why not?”

  Tilting her head to one side, she looks me over. “I guess I could go for that.”

  Rolling to my side, I drag her down next to me, wrapping one arm around her and placing a soft kiss on her lips, once again biting back the words that want to tumble out. I’m afraid it’s too soon. And I don’t want to scare her off. “We’ll have fun, I promise. Dancing with you in a bikini sounds like great foreplay, don’t you think?”

  Her breath hitches, and her voice comes out a rough whisper when she answers. “Yeah.”

  “Good.”

  I kiss her again, but keep it short and sweet, then climb out of bed, pulling her with me. “Let’s shower, then go eat.”

  She lets me pull her to sitting, but resists getting all the way out. “I don’t think we should shower together.” She laughs when I jut out my lower lip in an exaggerated pout. “The point of leaving the room is to give my lady parts a little break, right? If I shower with you, that defeats the purpose.”

  Backing across the room to the bathroom, I refuse to take my eyes off hers, pouting the whole time. When I reach the door, I stop. “You sure? I promise not to have sex with you in the shower.”

  With another laugh, she just shakes her head, her auburn hair sweeping over her shoulders. “Not this time. I need a shower by myself. And I think you do too.”

  I heave a sigh. “If you insist.” But despite all my pouting and sighing at not getting my way, once I close the door, I can’t help letting out the smile that’s been permanently etched on my face since we got here.

  This trip is the best idea I’ve had since our road trip in December. I’d hoped we could recapture our easy chemistry, and we’ve more than done that. From the moment she stepped into my arms in the airport, we’ve been crackling with it, but it’s deeper this time. More intense. More of a connection. More of everything.

 

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