Rocking Her Heart

by Melanie Shawn

  Of course, he really should’ve. Considering how special she was, how she always pushed him, both consciously and unconsciously, to be his best self – yeah, he should’ve known that being with her would be utterly spectacular.

  “Jet,” she breathed, “Is this real?”

  He nodded. “It’s more fucking real than anything in my life.”

  She stepped forward. Just a tiny step, but it carried her close enough to him that he could feel the heat from her body radiating out to his. Even through their clothes, the sound of her heartbeat thundered between them.

  A groan escaped his throat. “God damn, Abby, I’ve wanted this for so long.”

  She closed her eyes and her head dropped back. His eyes locked onto her pulse throbbing in her neck, mesmerized by how fast her heart was beating. And he was the one who’d set it racing like that. Pride swelled through him, deeper and more satisfying than anything he’d felt, even at selling out Madison Square Garden.

  He wanted nothing more than to grab her to him, tear off her clothes, and claim her right there – but he exercised every single bit of will he could muster, holding back until he could get the answer to one question.

  “Abs,” he croaked, spitting the words out between ragged pants, “are you sure, abso-fucking-lutely sure, that you want to do this?”

  She grinned. “Are you kidding me? I’ve been abso-fucking-lutely sure I wanted to do this since we were in, like, tenth grade.”

  For some reason, he found the idea that she’d been carrying around unconsummated desire for him as long as he had for her to be not only extremely fucking hot…but also kind of comforting. Like, through all the years, the time and the distance, they’d been experiencing this powerful thing together. This thing that only they had in common, like an invisible but powerful thread that spooled out over the miles, connecting his heart with hers.

  It made him feel just a little less alone in the world.

  He planted his hands on Abby’s waist, squeezing her tiny frame in his strong grasp and pulling her against him. He felt the outline of her shapely body against his taut muscles and his dick jumped in his pants.

  He dipped his head and pressed his lips to hers. He moved them slowly, sensuously, taking his time so that he could soak in every sensation, each tiny movement of her mouth against his, of her body pressed to him. He wanted to remember this, not just for a while, but forever.

  He ran his hands up and down her body as they kissed, enjoying every luscious curve and flat plane. She was perfect. She’d lived in his mind so long as the idea of beauty that he worshiped every part of her.

  For so long, that worship had occurred from afar, only in his dreams. Now he had the chance to explore every part of her with his hands, his mouth, his fingers and tongue. He wasn’t about to take that chance for granted. He planned to take his time and commit every detail of her luscious body to memory, no matter how tiny.

  Their kisses deepened and he wrapped his arms around Abby, pulling her close to him. His cock was tight and throbbing against the constraints of his jeans. He wanted nothing more than to rip them off and set that monster free – but he forced himself to slow down. There was all that discovery to do. He wanted to savor it.

  He pulled back and planted kisses down the side of her jaw, and then trailed them slowly down her neck. She smelled amazing, like vanilla and strawberries. It made him wonder how delicious she was going to be when he finally got to taste her.

  “God, you feel so good,” he groaned. “You smell so good, you taste so good. Is there anything about you that’s not fucking amazing?”

  She steadied her ragged panting breaths and then replied, “There might be. But I haven’t found it yet.”

  They both laughed, but his laughter was cut off low in his throat when she reached between them and took hold of his dick. He couldn’t feel each and every move of her hand because she grasped him over the thick denim fabric of his pants. But he could feel enough. Oh, fuck, yeah. He could feel enough.

  She moved her hand up and down on his fabric clad shaft and gave a light moan. “God, you’re big,” she gasped.

  He reached behind him, groping for something to hold onto so that he wouldn’t topple over. That’s how lightheaded he felt. He didn’t know whether it was more the movement of her hand or the sound of her words that made him so unsteady on his feet. It could’ve been either, they were both fucking hot.

  When he had his balance back once again, he took a small step forward so that they were standing so close he could feel her breath on his skin. He slid his hands up the front of her shirt, taking her breasts in his grasp and massaging them the same way she was doing to his dick.

  The thin fabric of her blouse and bra did absolutely nothing to mask her hard nipples poking through. It wouldn’t have been possible to tamp down those rock-hard buds.

  He felt them poking against the skin of his fingers and palms every time he brushed against them in his movements, and he could trace the jagged rhythm of her breath by how often his hands traced over those sensitive buds.

  He leaned down and kissed her again, and this time the intensity between them multiplied tenfold. It was like an electric current flowed between their tongues, sending sharp jolts rocketing through him every time they pressed together.

  He tore his mouth away reluctantly. Immediately after they broke apart, it felt wrong not to be connected with her. He had to rectify it. He leaned back down and started kissing her neck again, tracing shapes and paths with the hard tip of his tongue.

  He moved down steadily, getting drunk on the slightly salty taste of her skin, now coated in a thin and glistening sheen of sweat. Oh, yeah. He could definitely see himself getting addicted to Abby. At least it would be the least destructive of his many addictions. In fact, it might be the thing that finally freed him from the rest.

  His mouth reached the neckline of her shirt, but instead of stopping or even taking it off, he just kept kissing his way down. He was in the grip of an unstoppable momentum now, powerless to do anything about it.

  He cupped her breasts in his hands, holding them up from below and squeezing slightly, stretching the fabric tight so that her distended nipples poked through even more obviously than before.

  He covered the first one hungrily in his mouth, soaking the fabric of both her blouse and bra almost immediately as he suckled the sensitive tip with his hot mouth.

  She tangled her fingers in his hair, creating a tidal wave of tingles that raced across his scalp and down the back of his neck, continuing down his body until they settled in his cock.

  When she tightened her fingers, the tingles verged on light pain. Fuck, he wasn’t sure, but he thought he might like that even more.

  He pulled back to move his head to her other breast but was struck still for a moment by the unbelievably sexy sight in front of him. On top of her breast, the distinct patch of wetness over her nipple turned the fabric almost translucent, giving him a full and beautiful view of the dark circle underneath, topped by the sweet hard tip of her nipple.

  “God,” he groaned. “Gives a whole new meaning to the idea of a wet T-shirt contest.”

  She laughed, the sound raspy and thin. “Even at a time like this, you have a smart-ass comment. I tell you one thing – I’ve never entered a wet T-shirt contest. But if I did, you can bet your ass I’d win.”

  He matched her hoarse laugh. “Even at a time like this, your competitive streak rears its ugly head.”

  Her fingers, still knotted in his hair, pulled his head back just a little so that he was looking up into her beautiful face, which was wearing a small and self-satisfied smirk. “Hey,” she said with a wink, “I can’t help it if I’m the best at everything I do.”

  He returned her smile. “No arguments here.”

  Then, before she could say anything else, he captured her other nipple in his mouth through the fabric of her shirt, swirling his tongue around and around it until nothing was coming from her mouth but soft, pretty moans
.

  He slid his hands underneath the hem of her shirt, sliding them up over the silky skin that he found there. His breath sped up until he was nearly hyperventilating. She was so soft, and warm. The stuff dreams were made of.

  Taking advantage of the grip she had on his hair one last time, she pulled him back and looked into his eyes. There was a fire of intensity in hers that was new. Whatever she was about to say, he knew that he wouldn’t dare argue with it.

  “I want to be naked with you. I can’t wait anymore. I need that. Now.”

  Well, damn. Fire or no fire, he’d never have argued with that.

  With frantic, fumbling fingers they undressed each other, tossing their clothes aside like unwanted candy wrappers in their haste to get to the treats underneath.

  As each piece of clothing slipped from her creamy skin, his cock grew and throbbed. How was it even physically possible for one woman to be so stunning? It wasn’t like she had one or two good features. Every part of her body was the damn epitome of luscious beauty.

  Her neck was long and swan-like, her breasts full and perky, her belly flat and smooth, her hips tight but gently curving, her legs slim and elegant.

  She was a fucking goddess.

  When they were completely naked, she tilted her head slightly and looked up at him, her eyes half-lidded and a playful smile tugging at her lips.

  “So, Rock Star,” she whispered, the sound low and husky and dripping in sex, “please tell me you carry condoms around in the pocket of those $500 jeans.”

  Chapter 6

  Abby

  Abby’s knees trembled as she pressed against Jet’s body, and she was grateful his arms were around her. She didn’t know if her lust-weakened legs would’ve held her up on their own.

  She wondered if she was in the grip of a particularly vivid fever dream. Hell, it wasn’t as if she’d never had sex dreams about Jet before. They’d been, in fact, a pretty regular staple of her REM life for years. And if this was one of those, well, hats off to her subconscious for coming up with it because it was fricking amazing.

  Jet’s strong, sure hands traveled down her back and grasped her ass, lifting her off the ground and into his arms. She giggled at the sudden surprise of it all, throwing her legs around his waist and snaking her arms around his neck.

  God, he made her feel as light as a feather and as treasured as a princess. She’d never felt quite so special as when she was in a room with Jet, even before this spectacular development between them, and even before he was a rock god. There was just something about him and the way he looked at her. Even when they were competing, even when they were busting each other’s balls – hell, she’d argue especially when they were competing and trash talking – it was like he looked straight into her and truly saw her, in a way that was deeper and more complete than anyone else in her life.

  That connection between them was honestly the sexiest thing about him, and turned her on even more than his incredible abs, or ass, or pecs…

  Although, she thought as she ran her fingers over the hard ridges of his muscles, all of that stuff is pretty damn spectacular, as well.

  Jet, still carrying her seemingly effortlessly in his strong arms, kissed his way down her neck. His lips sent such shuddering pleasure through her that she tossed her head back in abject ecstasy.

  “Oh, God, yes,” she breathed, her eyes squeezed shut, better to focus on all of the sensations racing through her bloodstream, filling her body and soul with the most intense and spectacular feelings she’d ever experienced – and that was what finally convinced her that there was no way this could possibly be a dream.

  Because, hell, if her nighttime imagination was, in fact, capable of conjuring up something this freaking incredible, surely it would’ve been giving her this gift every single night when she closed her eyes. Why in the world wouldn’t it?

  No. This was not something that her brain was capable of generating on its own. This was the kind of magic that only Jet Valentine could create.

  She dropped her feet to the floor and turned to face the wall, bending forward and placing her hands against it for support. Jet moaned as he grasped her hips in his hands, positioning himself at her entrance and thrusting into her.

  Damn, she had dreamed so many times of him claiming her like this, pounding into her soft, welcoming wetness. It was a million times better in reality than it had been in her fantasies.

  “Oh, God, yes, fill me up!” she cried, pushing her own hips backward to meet his thrusts.

  She felt a sudden need to be with him in a way that was more intimate than what they were doing right then. She wanted to feel his entire body pressed against her, to have him hold her in his arms and be free to wrap her legs around him and pull him toward her.

  She glanced back at him over her shoulder. “Come on,” she urged, straightening up a little and reaching back to lay a hand on his arm. “Let’s go over there. I’ve got some blankets that a few crates were wrapped in when they arrived from an estate sale. We can lay down.”

  He followed her as she led the way past a few storage shelves to the pile of blankets.

  It certainly wasn’t a luxury mattress. Hell, it wasn’t even a bearskin rug in front of a fireplace. But she didn’t think that either one of them were about to be in a position to think about the accommodations at all, much less complain about them. She smiled to herself. Yeah, she had a pretty good idea that both their bodies and their minds were about to be occupied.

  Abby dropped herself down on the pile of blankets and laid back, opening both her arms and her legs to him.

  He knelt in between her legs and positioned himself at her opening. He paused to look into her eyes. “You’re really sure?” he asked, even though she could see it killed him not to just go ahead. It touched her heart that he had to make absolutely certain she was on board with this.

  And she felt the same way, really. She didn’t want to risk losing a lifelong friend (and rival) over sex.

  Even if it was shaping up to be the best damn sex of her entire life.

  She reached up and tangled her fingers in his hair. “I’m as sure as I’ve ever been about anything,” she said, and neither her voice nor her eyes wavered one iota.

  He nodded and thrust into her.

  Fuck. Having him inside her was like a melting pot of every amazing thing she’d ever experienced in her life. Riding a roller coaster. Eating mac and cheese. Drinking a fine aged merlot. All of that and more was contained in the sensation of being penetrated by Jet.

  As he pounded in and out of her again and again, a fire grew in her belly that she knew could only be quenched by climaxing with Jet. She wanted them to ride that wave together, and be spilled out onto the shore at the same time, breathless and panting and holding each other.

  He pulled back and looked at her face, studying every inch. “How close are you, Abs?”

  She laughed, laying a hand along the side of his face. “I was just waiting for you.”

  He laughed right along with her. “Well, the wait is over.”

  They crested the peak together, clinging to each other like ports in their storms. And when it was over, they lay quietly, still clinging to each other.

  “Shit, you know what I just realized?” he asked, breaking the peaceful silence. His voice held surprise, and a little hint of wonder.

  “What?”

  “That only thirty-six hours ago, before my life imploded, I never could’ve imagined that we’d be laying here like this, together. That we would’ve done what we just did.”

  Trepidation filled her. What was he trying to say? That he regretted it? Shit. Had she just lost a lifelong friend over sex? Carefully, she said, “And…how do you feel about that?”

  He stared into her face, brushed her hair back from her forehead, his eyes intense. He kissed her, even more passionately than when they’d been in the throes, just moments before.

  “God, Abby,” he rasped, his voice straining and tight. “I wouldn’t tra
de it. There’s nothing in the world that could get me to trade it.”

  Chapter 7

  Jet

  “So, then I told Madison she had to invite Taylor or Ashley wouldn’t come, but Madison was like, ‘If Ashley doesn’t come, then Brianna will think it’s too lame to come,’ and I was like, ‘I know, right,…that’s kind of like…the point,’ and she was like, ‘but Brianna won’t come if Taylor comes.’ You know. Because of that whole thing with Austin.”

  There was a pause in Mila’s stream of chatter, which had been going on for the entire five-minute walk from their house to Main Street Eats. It was about time – Jet was impressed by how long she could go without taking a breath. He knew she wanted to be a singer. With a set of pipes like that, she was well on her way.

  As the pause stretched, though, he glanced down at her. She was looking up at him expectantly.

  Oh, shit. Was he supposed to make some sort of judgment about the whole thing?

  As much as he’d been enjoying the sound of his little sister’s voice, he had to admit he hadn’t really been paying attention. It wasn’t that the soap-opera-meets-reality-show antics of the kids at Valentine Bay Middle School didn’t interest him. They didn’t, obviously, but that wasn’t the problem. It was that he legitimately couldn’t keep up with the speed of information flowing from Mila’s mouth.

  He decided to just grab onto the last name he’d heard and hope for the best.

  “Hmmm,” he said, doing his level best to sound like he’d considered the situation and took it seriously. “It really sounds like Austin is the main problem, then.”

  Mila stopped in her tracks, just a few feet from the front door of the diner. Jet’s heart dropped down into his gut. Had he said exactly the wrong thing?

  She spread her hands wide in front of her. “I know, right? Oh my God. Yes! Thank you! That is exactly what I keep trying to explain to Madison, and she just won’t get it!” Mila threw her arms around his waist and gave him a quick but powerful hug. “That’s why I’m so glad you’re here. You just understand things!”