Untwisted (14 page)

She sucked his fingers inside and made a sound of delight that seemed to reverberate through her body into his.

“Then I’d go into my room and I still wasn’t done. I’d grab a T-shirt and walk to the walk between our rooms and wait until I heard your voice. You’d laugh, and I’d have my hand on my cock. Pumping it into my fist, stroking so hard that I soaked my shirt.” He pushed his fingers deeper into her mouth and she sucked harder, right up to the knuckle. “You never knew how I wanted to fuck you back then, even though it was wrong. I wanted to be your first. Your only.”

Rather than speak, she shifted her leg up on both of his, spreading herself open for him. She knew that was an invitation he could never refuse.

But first, he had something to take care of.

He reached across her belly, the light pressure of his arm causing her to squirm. He grabbed a thin wand vibrator, the kind that would never satisfy her on its own. That’s why he’d chosen it. This would rev her up, and he would help her over.

“What’re you doing?” Her voice sounded muffled, thick. “I ache.”

“I know. It’s about to get better.” He flipped the switch and the low buzz triggered her shiver. She backed into him, rubbing against his cock, and he turned his grin against her throat. “How much can you take?”

“Nothing. Not one thing.”

Now he did laugh, helplessly. Her honesty at all times never failed to humble him. “You underestimate yourself, baby. But I never do.” He pressed the toy against her clit, careful to avoid the piercing, and she released a high, thin cry. “Careful,” he murmured against her hair. “Someone might hear you.”

“Let them,” she gasped.

“Naughty girl.” He nipped along her jaw, drawing in the vanilla and watermelon scent he’d loved since he was a teenager. She was summer and happiness and the life he’d always dreamed of, all wrapped into one. “Tell me what you want. Beg for it and I’ll give it to you. Anything you want.”
Everything
.

“Inside me. Please. Now.”

CHAPTER SEVEN

The man she loved was a sadist. How she’d never known this fact before she pledged to live with him for the rest of her life, she did not know, but boy, the knowledge was cold and cruel now.

He gave her what she asked for—sort of. He slipped something inside her, but it wasn’t his cock. The toy was so narrow that even her most vigorous clenching didn’t begin to alleviate the emptiness. She rocked upward, desperate for more, and he only grazed his teeth down the side of her throat while he bumped up the setting higher and higher. Until she clasped the sheets in sweaty hands and mumbled pleas she wasn’t even sure he could understand.

“I know. I know what you need, sweetheart.”

Somehow he was on the move again and she felt his mouth between her legs, playing with her piercing, taunting her clit, as he pumped the vibrator in and out. That wicked tongue stroking, licking. The pleasure tightened inside her, coiling hot, leaving her helpless to stop writhing while he drove her up to the cliff and left her hanging there.

And then when she was absolutely certain she couldn’t hang on another second, he replaced the vibrator with his thick, throbbing cock and shoved her into freefall.

“Come with me,” he whispered into her mouth, drawing her up into his arms. She still was, couldn’t stop. She shivered with endless spasms, incapable of doing more than holding on to him and moaning from the incredible assault on her senses. Only the feeling of him rearing back and slamming home one last time before he spilled himself inside her registered through the haze.

Afterward, he pulled off the blindfold and she blinked against the bright light of the suite. For a second, she marveled at how easy it was for her to get naked with him now, whether in full light or bright sunlight. No part of her was off-limits to him. He had her trust and her heart and her soul.

“Sleep,” he said against her cheek, and she was already nodding and curling into the silky sheets. Her body felt wrung out in the best way possible.

He turned off the light and rolled into the bed behind her, pulling her close. “Love you. So fucking much.”

Her lips curved. She couldn’t even admonish him for the curse when he swore like that. It was probably his way of bending the rules. “Love you more,” she murmured, lacing her fingers with his over her belly.

His warm breath on the back of her neck lulled her into rest. Just a nap. It wasn’t that late yet and they had so much to explore. She’d barely checked out the suite and God, they were in San Francisco, her favorite place in the universe.

The place where she’d be getting married. Tomorrow. With her best friend and her band and her sister—God—all in attendance. Her life wasn’t anything close a fairy tale, but right now it was doing a damn good job of resembling one.

Her bladder woke her. Naturally. She ignored the urge to pee for as long as humanly possible, and rolled over with a groan, pressing her face into bedding that smelled of Gray’s spicy aftershave.

Smelled of him, but he wasn’t there. His side of the bed was cool.

She shoved her hair out of her eyes and leaned up one elbow, squinting as she got her bearings. This wasn’t home. They were in San Francisco, at the Palatial hotel. In the tricked-out, impossible to believe penthouse suite. Sunshine trickled through the window, bathing her in a warm glow.

Morning already. Damn, she felt wasted, and she’d had nothing stronger than great sex.

She glanced around, taking in the antique furnishings and expensive trinkets that seemed to be everywhere. A crystal dish of mints on the nightstand. A cut glass water pitcher. A bunch of sex toys littering the thick cream rug.

A laugh escaped her. Oh yeah, they’d ordered sex toys instead of a late night snack. Hard to forget that.

And they weren’t alone. Her
sister
was with them. The girl who just happened to be screaming like a pissed off banshee in the next room.

Screaming was probably an overstatement. Slightly. Now and then low male tones that Jazz swiftly identified as Gray’s voice calmed down the screeching, only for it to start again along with the clinking of bottles. Someone was drinking. Maybe they both were.

Jazz shook her head. Stupid. Gray had never been much of a drinker, and he definitely didn’t touch the stuff now. Clearly she needed to head into the bathroom and take care of business so she could figure out what was going on before they killed each other.

She climbed out of bed and glanced around for her clothes. They seemed to be strewn in places other than where she’d left them, but she picked up her shorts, bra and shirt and headed into the bath. She’d change after she spoke to the combatants in the next room. It was her wedding day, so that meant she should—

She stopped and stared at herself in the mirror, barely noticing the smudges under her eyes or the wild bedhead. All she could think about was one word.

Wedding.

Wedding.

Holy-fracking-hell-wedding.

A wedding meant she would be married. An actual adult with actual responsibilities beyond taking care of herself. She’d gotten the first heads up that things were changing in that department when the pregnancy test came up positive, but this was a whole new ballgame.

This was the first day of the rest of her life.

At the renewed sounds of fighting in the other room, she sighed and hurried up. The first day of the rest of her life was starting like many of the days prior—with squabbling before breakfast—though the players were different. Nick wasn’t bitching about someone eating his cereal and Simon wasn’t laughing as Deak told him to put on some damn pants. She was used to those sounds. Heck, she even enjoyed them most days. The argument in the living room had a decidedly different tenor.

She washed up and pulled on her clothes, then stopped at the bathroom door. Something made her hesitate before pulling it open, and her lack of movement made it easy for her to hear Molly’s latest declaration.

“No money’s enough to stay to listen to this bullshit.”

Jazz wrapped her fingers around the knob, her spine turning to ice. Goose bumps popped up on her skin and she tightened her grip to keep her from swaying on her feet.

It couldn’t be what it sounded like. Molly was just spouting off, as Jazz could already tell she did regularly. She shouldn’t read more into it. What she needed to do was walk out there, tell them both to shut up, and find out what exactly was going on.

“Keep it up and you won’t be getting any.”

Jazz shut her eyes at Gray’s hushed voice, incapable of smothering the pained noise that escaped her. He was trying to be quiet, so she wouldn’t hear. His wife-to-be, the woman he loved enough to arrange weddings for without her say and pay off her estranged family members so she could pretend he had a normal family for one day.

She’d had enough pretenses for one lifetime. Probably two.

You wondered why she came with you. She hated you on sight, and now you know why. She’d intended to do just what Harper thought, but for some reason she changed her mind and then she wanted you gone.

Jazz dropped her forehead to the door, dimly aware of their voices in the other room. Nothing could be louder than the voice in her head.

Gray decided to make nicey-nice for the wedding—no matter what it cost. That money he’s been working his ass off for, taking him away from you, is now funneling into your sister’s pocket so she can tolerate one day in your presence.

She was so fucking naïve. Harper was right. Hell, she’d been too dumb to see Gray was on drugs for how long? Obviously burying her head in the sand was her favorite pastime, and she’d done the same damn thing with Molly.

Now Gray was trying to smooth things over, to make sure his investment stuck around for the full twenty-four hours. How many more songs would he have to write to make up for what he’d shelled out today? What was her baby sister’s asking price?

Whatever she’d demanded, he’d obviously thought the price was fair, because hey, they had a wedding to put on today. Anything to make it seem like everything was perfect for gullible little Jazz. Somehow she was supposed to smile and pledge her life to the man she adored while knowing he’d paid off her own flesh and blood.

God, how could she face Molly again? How could she face
him
? Clearly he’d already decided she needed to be coddled and protected from reality and they weren’t even married yet.

So much for being partners. For sharing a life. She hadn’t had a father, so he’d taken it upon himself to shelter and guide her because she was too dumb to face life as it came.

Swallowing the lump that tried to form in her throat, she turned in the knob and went back in the bedroom. After toeing on her shoes, she grabbed her purse. Once she’d ascertained that she had some money and her cell phone, she slipped out the door from the bedroom to the hallway she’d noticed yesterday. Apparently fancy suites came with more than one exit.

She’d just never expected to need to use it.

***

Gray was almost at the end of his rope. And when he reached it, he was pretty sure he’d wrap it around Molly’s scrawny neck and pull.

How could one teenager be so damn annoying?

He’d awakened about an hour ago after a very erotic dream starring his fiancée—who had been snuggled against his chest while he had said dream—only to find Molly sprawled out on the couch in the sitting area with an array of bottles from the minibar strewn around her and some kind of dirty movie on the TV. She’d claimed it wasn’t porn, though he never would’ve been able to tell judging from the sex act he’d walked in on.

She hadn’t even seemed properly ashamed to be caught drunk and watching almost-porn. At seventeen, if his parents had caught him in such a state he would’ve blushed down to the soles of his feet. Not Molly. She’d just offered him a bottle and announced he’d arrived in time for “the good part.”

Her reaction to his demand he pour out the rest of the alcohol—what hadn’t already reached her bloodstream anyway—and change the channel had been met with an array of angry statements, ranging from “you’re not my father” and “why don’t you go fuck my sister again?”

If he’d had to deal with Molly before Jazz’s pregnancy, he might’ve viewed the whole thing a bit differently. Less than a day spent in Molly’s company and he was seriously doubting his ability to be a father. He had to hope his kid wouldn’t be the devil spawn Molly seemed to be more often than not, but he wasn’t at all certain. Perhaps it was just part of the deal. Maybe parenthood meant wading into the hellfire without a flame-resistant suit.

Before yesterday he’d been fairly confident he could handle what came his way. Now? God, he so wasn’t ready.

Eventually he’d won the war of cleaning up the alcohol and turning off the TV, but Jazz’s sister’s mood hadn’t approved after her toys had been taken away. She’d alternately sulked and pouted and screeched, nearly driving him out of the room several times. Not that she’d been willing to let him leave. She seemed prime to fight, and because he wasn’t at all sure of what she’d do while unattended—she claimed to be in a band, so trashing the suite wasn’t out of the question—he’d stuck it out and tried to calm her down. And shut her up.

So much for that.

Now the night had bled into day and his plan to spend part of the morning spooning—and forking—with Jazz had gone up in smoke. Molly was still on a tear, and he couldn’t think for all the ranting.

He wanted a drink. A toke. Hell, a line. He fought not to acknowledge those desires, tried to pretend they didn’t even exist. But Molly seemed to bring them out in him. The scent of pot clinging to her clothes hadn’t helped on that score either.

The last thing a recovering addict needed was to be confronted by alcohol and weed. Not that he’d ever be able to appeal to Molly that way. She’d probably just wave her lit joint in his face and laugh.

He’d finally had enough. Molly seemed to want to burn off her aggression by picking fights with him, and he wasn’t going to help her. This was his motherfucking wedding day. If she kept it up, he’d tell her flat-out—no, he wasn’t paying her a dime, and she could find her own way back to San Jose, because her sister was way better off without someone so toxic in her life.