Manhandled: A Rockstar Romantic Comedy (Hammered Book 2) (18 page)

BOOK: Manhandled: A Rockstar Romantic Comedy (Hammered Book 2)
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Breath.

His.

On me.

My fingertips went white around my lilac nail polish.

Then finally there was his mouth. Tongue as harsh as sandpaper on my oversensitive skin. He went deeper, touched everything, and sipped.

No—he drank.

God, I was so wet. My face flushed red at the way my body reacted. I flooded his mouth, heard the groans as he teased and tormented. He drew his knuckle through my slick folds to my clit and circled endlessly, patiently, and relentlessly.

My thigh shook as everything inside me clenched and released. We were alone, there was no one across the hall, no one on the other side of us. Thank fuck because I could hear the screams above the roar in my head. That couldn’t be good for the neighbors.

I swear I didn’t care.

I dropped my face between my outstretched arms, my hips raised to get away from his greedy mouth. I couldn’t take any more of it. Every atom felt as if it was going to fly apart. He didn’t stop. His tongue and fingers tormented and teased.

Finally he stood behind me, is chin damp as he stared at me in the glass. He reached around me and yanked me back against him, driving two fingers into me as he jerked at his pants behind me.

“Hurry.” I took one hand off the glass and he growled into my ear. I put my palm back on the cool window with a moan.

I moaned when his fingers retreated. No. I needed him inside me. The telltale crinkle flooded my blood with euphoria.

Yes. Yes, inside me.

I must have said it out loud because his voice rang in my ears. “Fuck, yes.”

Then he lifted me on my toes with the force of his thrust. I was so ready for him. I wanted this Quinn. The one that was a little too harsh, missing the gentle.

“Harder,” I said.

He slammed into me and my teeth rattled. So full. So much Quinn.

So much mine.

He drew my hands together on the window, lacing his fingers in between until we were twisted. His other arm held me steady, his fingertips circling, ever circling as he destroyed me.

Branded me from the inside out.

My nails dug into his fingers, into my own, my muscles clenched as I sobbed out his name.

My forehead fell forward on our tangled fingers as I took each thrust. He was so much taller than me and the angle was tough on him, but he didn’t relent. I reached onto my toes as much as I could until my calves cramped and my spine buzzed for mercy.

I didn’t want it though.

God, I didn’t want mercy. I’d never felt this alive.

Finally, I think he drew back and spun me around, wrapping my legs around him as we walked us toward the fireplace and the leather bench in front of it.

“We have a thing for benches.”

He laughed, his teeth and tongue scraping over my neck. He sat down with me astride him, fully seated inside me. “Oh, wow.” I rolled my hips and the veins in his neck bulged.

There.

He gritted his teeth and plunged deeper. Distraction threatened to take me under, back to the mindless place where I took and took. It was so easy to fall into that blackness of pleasure and letting my body just ride his storm.

I wanted to be his storm.

I wanted to watch him go blind for me.

I tipped my hips forward. I cried out at how deep he was, how he filled every empty place inside of me. Places I didn’t know were there. I curled my arms around is neck, my fingers in his hair and rode him.

Watched him as I took him again and again.

I watched him lose it. His eyes icy blue eyes so fierce as he tried to hold out. His fingers gripped my hips as he pulsed inside of me. The groan wrenched out of him as I squeezed around him. As I watched him come for me.

So beautifully savage.

So much mine.

31
Quinn


M
ercy
.”

I grinned as she crawled away from me on the bed. I’d rented out my house for so long I couldn’t actually remember the last time I’d slept in this bed.

Of course we really hadn’t done any sleeping.

I dragged her back under me and slipped my hand between the mattress and her slick thighs. Wet from me, wet from us, and so very wet from the string of orgasms I’d dragged out of her.

Still it wasn’t enough.

I’d hoped that if I made her scream my name all night I could get the overwhelmed feeling out of my chest.

Sex I could do. I was good at figuring out what pleased a woman and going after it like a sidewinder missile. I knew exactly what to do for Faith. Watching her break for me was addictive.

Breaking for her…yeah. Not so much.

I’d made the rest of the night my mission to leave her in a trembling heap. Maybe then she’d think twice about ditching me for a fucking concert, too.

I rolled us both to the side and dragged the head of my cock along her pussy. I looked down at us, her skin rose pink and swollen as she took me inside of her. I groaned, rolling my hips until my shaft scraped along her walls and I felt her quake.

I drew my fingers down where we were joined. So wet for me.

She reached up between us and anchored her hand in my hair. I stroked up and down her body. Belly to breast and up to her neck, then back around. I couldn’t stop touching her.

I couldn’t let go.

Finally all the times I’d denied myself to watch her go over had been one too many. She rolled into a ball, trapping my hand against her. As if that would stop me. I was high off the number of times she’d waffled between Warden and my name as I stroked her clit and thrust inside of her.

She wrapped herself around my arm as I curled around her and finally let go. I buried my head into the back of her damp neck and breathed through the searing release. She fisted around me, her cries finally turning to hiccupping shudders.

I held onto her, gentled my touch and kissed her neck, her jaw, her mouth. When I slid out of her, she twisted in my arms, her face in my neck, her body still tight.

I stroked her back until she unfurled, until I heard her breathing ease and finally until she drifted off.

I was so very fucked. I knew I was too close to her, but I couldn’t find the distance I needed. I wasn’t sure I’d ever be able to find it. That scared me most of all.

What if I wasn’t enough for her?

That last gift she’d received went beyond fan adulation. Profiling courses had been offered as part of the training with Aidan’s team. How to spot a threat and devise a way to protect our client was one thing, but there were a number of stalking cases that Roth Defense took care of in their bodyguard unit.

I didn’t generally work those. My specialty was long term defense for dignitaries, and the elite rich. They often required the tactical background I had. I had no real defense for the psychology of obsession.

Especially when each clue seemed to point closer to someone that’s focus was way beyond addiction and adoration. This fan going to every show told me they didn’t have a regular day job, but they also had to have the fiscal ability to travel and pay for tickets.

I’d seen the prices for Hammered’s tickets. Not exactly on the cheap end of the spectrum. Sure they could pay for the cheaper lawn seats on the outdoor venues, but that wouldn’t get them near the front of the house where the setlist were.

Especially since eighty percent of the physical copies had been labeled, Keys. Worrisome didn’t cover it.

I held onto her as the night turned to the pearl gray of morning. I hated to wake her, but we needed to get back to the hotel and get ready to leave for the next city.

The next few weeks were arrowing toward New York and my old stomping grounds. I managed to go home for most holidays, but an impromptu visit home was tempting.

Faith would need to be with me.

The idea of her meeting my folks was a little nerve racking. Especially since I had no way to turn off my feelings around her, and my mother was a damn hawk.

She’d figure it out.

But if I was in the area and I didn’t go home—well, there was no way I’d be forgiven. Ever.

It was going to be a rough few weeks.

Faith seemed to understand that she was going to be on a short leash, but I knew she wasn’t going to make it easy.

Why would it be easy anyway?

I pressed a kiss to her forehead and massaged the base of her skull.

She groaned into my neck. “No.”

“Time to go. Hell to catch when we get back.”

She sighed. “I already have five angry texts on my phone from last night.”

“Your people care about you.”

“I know. I have learned my lesson. Mostly.”

I propped myself on my elbow. “All the way.”

“There will be whining.”

“I figured.”

She wrinkled her nose at me. “Those shows are how I broke the monotony of touring.”

“Guess I’ll just have to find other ways to do that.”

She dragged her sheet up and sat cross legged. “I’ll be holding you to that.”

“Why don’t you make me playlists then. Your…what do you call it? Jukebox brain?”

Faith grinned. “I get to play teacher?”

I rolled out of bed and stood. “Don’t get so excited.”

“Oh, no. This is awesome. I shall school you by genre.” She rolled onto her knees, holding the sheet over her breasts as she inched across the bed. She reached up and put her hands on my chest, her eyes sparkling as the sheet slipped.

I groaned and lowered myself to her level. She curled her arms around my neck, giggling when I extricated her from the sheet and into my arms. “Shower.”

“Wait. Need my iPod.” She made grabby hands for her bag.

What did I get myself into?

The shower consisted of three songs from Metallica and a dissertation about the difference between mullet-rock and heavy metal. I had to admit her way of explaining things was hilarious.

“Have you thought of doing a podcast with this stuff?”

Her blue eyes got wider. “You think anyone would care?”

“You made me care. I had no idea Lemmy from Motorhead was so very important to metal.”

“Yes, but you’re humoring me to keep me
and
you sane.”

I tucked a towel closed at my hip. “Don’t forget the want to keep you naked thing.”

“Can’t forget that.” She fluffed her hair with a towel.

“Honestly, it would keep you from getting bored.”

“You’re correct.” She went onto her toes and kissed me. “Such a smart guy sometimes.”

It was probably the best thing I’d ever come up with. She threw herself into the idea whole heartedly. By the time we were back to the hotel she had a schedule of recordings and about twenty people who already agreed to do a vidchat with her.

She was mildly terrifying in her ability to get people to do things for her.

Myself included.

On our way to the hotel she sat up as we passed a strip mall. “Can we—”

“No.”

She sighed. “I need a notebook. Just the drugstore right there. No big. See?”

I pulled in. “Only because it seems to be empty.”

“That’s because it’s six in the morning, but yay for twenty-four hour drugstores.”

I opened my door and went around to her side of the car. I hustled her inside. She made a bee-line for the candy.

“Faith.”

“It’s on the way to the office stuff.” She plucked a bag of Starbursts off the shelf as well as a bag of Peanut M&M’s. She jogged down the end of the aisle to the back of the store. I lengthened my stride as she snatched two notebooks up and a package of pens in pinks and purples.

She spun around, her arms full. “Okay. Ready.”

There was no way to take them from her without dumping the pile, so I led her to the front with my hand at her back. She dumped her loot on the counter and chatted happily with the woman checking her out.

Five minutes later we were in the car and she was happily scribbling in her large, block print. She was so engrossed she didn’t notice we were at the hotel.

“Faith.”

“Can you just leave me in the car?”

“No.”

“Meh.” She stuffed her pens and the rest back into her bag, but left the smaller one out.

“You have to pay attention to your surroundings.”

She looked up from writing and walking, her eyes unfocused. She was already gone into some other dimension where music ruled her brain. “Right.” She closed the notebook and held it against her chest. “Let’s go.”

I honestly wished I’d had the idea sooner. Talk about making my life easier. We got onto the elevator and back up to our floor. Indie and Patrick were running herd on the rest of the band.

The door to her room shut behind her as she stood in the hall with her hands on her hips. “Faith Elizabeth Keystone.”

Faith hunched her shoulders. “She’s more intimidating than my mother,” she said out of the side of her mouth.

“She’s fairly terrifying.”

“That’s why she’s our den mother. Don’t let her know I said that.”

I schooled my features as Indie stalked down the hall, dragging her suitcase behind her.

She stopped in from of Faith. “What the hell were you thinking?” Then looked up at me. “And you…not bringing her back last night? What the hell kind of bodyguard are you?”

I tried to swallow down the idea that I was being scolded by a woman that was a foot shorter than me and weighed in at just over a hundred pounds. “I took her to a safe location, ma’am.”

She dropped her voice. “I know you two are more than bodyguard and client, but honestly…if you pull this shit again, you won’t have to worry about this crazy fan. I’ll kill you myself. Got it?”

“Understood.”

She pushed by us. “We leave in ten. If you’re not in the Escalades your ass will have to find your own way to Maryland.”

“See?” Faith looked up at me. “And you think you’re scary.”

“I heard that!”

“I love you, Indie,” Faith called after her.

“Love me on the plane, Keys.” She got on the elevator and stared down the hallway at us. “I already had to chew through a sleeve of Tums because of you two,” she said before the doors closed.

I cleared my throat. “We should get our bags.”

“Yeah. Good idea.”

BOOK: Manhandled: A Rockstar Romantic Comedy (Hammered Book 2)
4.84Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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