Текст книги "Double Time"

Автор книги: Olivia Cunning

сообщить о нарушении

Текущая страница: 5 (всего у книги 23 страниц)

Chapter 6

Trey had never had so much fun not having sex with a woman. They’d had burgers and beers while watching a ballgame in the back of the limo. Had he wanted to steal a kiss, rip off her clothes, fuck her senseless? Every second. But he’d somehow managed to behave. She’d cheered for the San Diego Chargers, and just to get her all up in arms, he’d pretended to be a fan of the opposing team. He hadn’t paid enough attention to the game to remember who had won.

After the game, they’d taken a walk on the beach. Talked. About music. He’d never met a woman who knew so much about music. He’d hung on her every word. Was it because he was thinking about the way her kiss tasted, the heat he’d discovered between her legs, the cute way she squinted in the sunshine when she looked up at him? Only about half the time. She was genuinely interesting. He wasn’t just pretending she was interesting to get laid. He’d talked to women this way when he had no interest in them sexually, but this? This was new for him. This being totally turned on by a woman he genuinely liked blew his mind. Why had he thought this was a bad thing? Because he’d always felt like he was being untrue to Brian, that’s why. Screwing around with people he didn’t care about didn’t feel important. Every time Brian entered his thoughts, Trey still felt guilty for liking Reagan so much. It felt like he was cheating on Brian. It seriously messed with his head so he made an effort not to think about Brian. With Reagan beside him, it was easier than he’d thought it would be.

He and Reagan found a skate park on the beach and she talked a couple of dudes into letting her borrow their skateboards. She ollied and kickflipped like a pro. Trey tried to keep up, but he hadn’t been on a skateboard in about ten years and it showed. The skater dudes were impressed with Reagan’s abilities. Trey knew they were all thinking about fucking her. He could see the hunger in their eyes. Even though Trey spent most of their skate park adventure scraping his bruised body off the ground in a most unimpressive fashion, she left with him—much to her captive audience’s dismay—and they’d continued down the beach.

She spotted a drink shack and lit up with excitement. “I’m thirsty. Are you thirsty?”

He needed a Tylenol and an icepack for his elbow more than a beverage, but how could he say no to that eager look on her face? “Yeah, sure. What do you want?”

“Vanilla shake.”

He bit back a quip about vanilla sex.

A Frisbee landed at Reagan’s feet and a big, slobbery, yellow dog barked at her excitedly. He wagged his tail and nudged the plastic disk with his nose.

“He doesn’t bite! Would you mind tossing that this way?” some guy yelled from near the waves.

Reagan gave the dog a scratch behind the ears and then tossed the chewed up bit of plastic toward the waves. She chased him a couple of steps and then stopped dead in her tracks. She glanced at the line at the drink stand and then at Trey.

“Go play with the dog,” Trey said. “I’ll get your drink.”

Her happy laugh was all the reward he needed as he found the end of the line.

While Trey waited for the cashier to make Reagan’s vanilla milkshake, he watched her throw the Frisbee down the beach for the Labrador retriever again and again. The dog’s owner was watching her almost as closely as Trey was. The dog was in total puppy love as she scratched him behind the ears, took the tooth-marked plastic disk from his mouth, and gave it another toss toward the lapping waves.

“Here you go,” the girl behind the counter said. “One vanilla shake. One cherry slush.”

Trey tore his attention off Reagan long enough to pay for their drinks. When he turned around, drink in each hand, he found Reagan laughing with the owner of the yellow lab. Trey hurried to her side. He wondered how many women the guy picked up this way.

“No he didn’t. Really?” Reagan said to the attractive, tan, and athletic dog owner. She had this way of holding one eye closed when she thought you were full of shit. It made Trey wonder what she looked like when she had an orgasm.

“Yeah. I thought for sure she was going to call the cops on me.”

Trey sidled closer to Reagan. She smiled at him when he handed her the vanilla shake, but she immediately turned her attention back to the dog guy. “So why didn’t she?”

“Riley didn’t mean to hurt her,” he said and turned to his dog. “Did you, boy?”

Riley took several backward steps, his tail wagging, and produced a loud WOOF! in agreement.

“He was just looking for love. Weren’t you, boy?”

Woof! Woof!

Trey slurped his slush as loudly as possible, hoping to regain Reagan’s undivided attention. A harsh, jabbing pain radiated up the back of his throat and pounded incessantly behind his right eye.

“Ah, God. Brain freeze!” Trey yelled and covered his eye with his free hand. “Fuck. Why does that hurt so bad?”

Reagan laughed at him. “Suck it more slowly next time,” she advised.

He had fifteen lines he could have used at that moment, but he had to keep things platonic between them for another hour or so.

“Are you okay?” she asked as she watched him wipe tears out of his eyes. He’d take a broken nose over brain freeze any day.

“I think I need to walk it off,” he said and gave the loser and his dog a pointed look.

“This is Scott,” Reagan said, misinterpreting Trey’s tell-this-guy-to-get-lost look.

Trey nodded at him without taking his eyes off Reagan. He’d never felt so possessive of a woman before. He didn’t even want Scott to look at her. The fact that Scott was using a dog as an excuse to flirt with her made him pretty lame in Trey’s book. Of course, if Scott had a medal of valor, five Olympic gold medals, and a Nobel prize hanging around his neck, Trey would have still thought he was lame. He was hitting on Reagan and Trey couldn’t touch her in such a way to make it clear that she was his. Trey had to be very careful not to give her a reason to blow him off. One more hour to behave. And then once he met her condition, all bets were off. If she tried to push him away again, he’d just have to take the upper hand and see how she reacted. He was starting to understand her signals. Maybe.

“We should probably head back to the limo,” Trey said, careful not to put emphasis on that last word. That would make him as lame as Scott. Trying to impress the girl with material possessions. He didn’t need stuff to impress a woman. But, hello, they had a limo at their disposal.

Reagan nodded and took a long sip of her milkshake. Her face twisted in pain and she covered one eye with her free hand. “Brain freeze,” she gasped.

“You should—”

“Suck it more slowly next time?”

“You can suck it as fast as you want.” He winced as soon as it was out of his mouth. He was so used to turning every phrase into innuendo it happened automatically.

Reagan laughed. “Don’t worry. I’ll suck it real slow. It will last longer that way.”

As turned on as he was by this woman, there were no guarantees he’d last at all. No matter how slow she sucked. He stared at her mouth as he took another slurp of his slush, holding the frigid beverage in his mouth to warm it slightly before he swallowed this time.

Reagan bent and gave the dog another scratch behind the ears. “No more humping elderly women in wheelchairs, Riley. It’s not nice.”

Riley barked and wagged his tail. Trey laughed.

“Bye, Scott,” Reagan said without looking at him.

Two points for the Trey-ster. Trey so wanted to take her hand and hold it as they walked away, but he had a little over an hour to keep his hands to himself.

“So I take it you like dogs,” Trey said.

“I love dogs. Do you have a dog?”

“I had one when I was a kid. He got hit by a car. Haven’t had one since.”

Reagan’s features softened with sympathy and she slid a comforting hand down his back. Damn, he was horny. Even that small contact had his cock at full attention.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “You haven’t had any pets since?”

“Just Eric Sticks.”

Reagan laughed. “I can’t wait to meet Eric. He seems like so much fun when I’ve watched interviews of you guys.”

“You’ve watched interviews of Sinners?” He wondered what she thought of him. He didn’t say too much during interviews. Their lead singer, Sed, liked to hear himself talk.

“I’m kind of obsessed with Sinclair.”

Trey completely understood that obsession.

“I love his sound. It speaks to me,” she added and took another draw off her milkshake.

“I honestly thought you were him at that audition. It’s amazing how much you sound like him.”

“I’ve been practicing. Could you introduce me to him? I promise not to turn into a gushing fangirl.” She covered her chest with one hand. “Much.”

“He’s used to gushing fangirls.”

“Are you?”

“Yeah. But I like it. Brian never did.”

“Thanks for the tip. I’ll try not to prostrate myself at his feet, kiss his boots, and repeat his name like a mantra to the rock gods.”

Trey wanted to make her repeat his name like a mantra to the sex gods. “You should play for him,” he said, trying to keep his train of thought from slipping. Not doing so well with that, thanks.

She paused, her bare toes scrunching in the sand. Damn, even that was sexy. When she didn’t say anything, he lifted his gaze to meet hers. “I’d rather play with you.”

Trey bit his lip, the urge to spill another come-on line overwhelming. He wasn’t sure, because the blood rushing through his head on its way to his cock was rather loud, but he might have actually produced a verbal groan of longing.

“You’re censoring yourself, aren’t you?” she asked and touched his chest with her fingertips. His heart thundered in his chest.

“I’m trying so hard to be good,” he admitted.

“Why?”

“I’m not sure. If you ditch me, I can easily find someone else to entertain me.”

Her features hardened and he knew he’d said the wrong thing.

“The thing is, I don’t want anyone else. I like you, Reagan.”

“How often do you use that line?” she asked.

“Never,” he said honestly.

She smiled and he was glad she believed him. “I was sort of hoping you’d stop trying to be good and just be yourself. I keep glimpsing this naughty guy and I’d like to get to know him a little better. I’m not sure why I gave you that platonic ultimatum. I’ve been wishing I hadn’t for the past three hours.”

“If I give free rein to my naughty side, I won’t be able to keep my hands off you.”

She cocked her head to the side, her gaze trained on his mouth. “What about your lips?”

“They’d be all over you too.”

“And your tongue?”

Now he was sure he groaned with longing.

She stared into his eyes as if contemplating her options. “Do you want to come back to my place? It’s not far from here.”

“I’d like that.”

“Just so you know, this doesn’t mean you’re going to get laid, Trey Mills.”

She was killing him here.

“It guarantees it,” she added.

Heat flooded his lower belly and spread to his groin. He wasn’t going to make it all the way to her place. He didn’t care how close it was.

He draped an arm around her shoulders and drew her closer, hurrying her toward the limo parked at the far end of the beach. Her warmth melted into his side as her arm moved to rest against his lower back. Her fingers brushed his side.

She nodded toward the waves. “Beautiful sunset.”

Trey glanced at the horizon. The sun had just kissed the ocean. The sky was ablaze with shades of pink and orange. He’d never been so happy to see a sunset in his life. Even though she’d recanted her stupid platonic ultimatum, he’d somehow made it through without dying from blue balls. Two points for the Trey-ster.

“I had fun with you today, Trey,” she said, “but I think I’m going to have a lot more fun with you tonight.”

“I think that’s a safe assumption.”

* * *

Reagan climbed into the limo and slid around the white leather seat to give Trey room to join her. Had she really just invited Trey back to her apartment? And promised him sex? Jeez, just because her pussy had been wet and swollen since he’d kissed her earlier didn’t mean it was a good idea to come on to him so strong. He had way more self-control than she did. When he ducked into the car, his long bangs obscuring one sultry green eye, and pinned her with a look of pure lust, she had no regrets. Other than dirty feet from walking barefoot down the beach and dog-germ hands. As much as she wanted to touch Trey, she decided she needed a shower first. That last coherent thought fluttered out the moonroof when he looked at her like she was his favorite cherry dessert.

The limo’s door closed behind him and he settled beside her. He leaned close so that his nose brushed her cheek near her ear and his warm breath tickled her earlobe. “Later,” he said in a low voice, “I’m going to make love to you slowly and appreciate every inch of that gorgeous body of yours, but right now…” He sucked a sharp breath between his teeth as if his own thoughts were torturous. “Right now I’m going to devour you.”

Eyes wide, she turned to look at him. His mouth captured hers in a deep, sucking kiss. His tongue flicked against the inside of her upper lip and she groaned, opening her mouth to his possession. His lips tasted of cherry and some unique flavor that could only be described as Trey-licious. She leaned into his hard body, pressing her breasts against his chest.

He shifted and she found herself belly-to-belly with him and sprawled across the backseat of the limo. He moved his thigh between her legs and pressed it firmly against the throbbing ache that longed to be filled by him. She squirmed, needing rougher stimulation, and felt the evidence of his desire against her hip. He tore his mouth from hers and met her eyes. “I want you,” he said. “Reagan.” He buried one hand in her hair and tilted her head back so he could move those sucking kisses of his to her throat. “Reagan.”

“I want you too,” she said breathlessly.

“Say my name.”

“Trey.”

He moved his hand to brush the straps of her tank top down until her breast was exposed. He flicked his tongue over one nipple and her entire body tensed.

His hands skimmed down her sides, drawing her tank top down to her waist. She got lost in a sea of sensation, unable to keep track of where his hands were, his lips, his tongue. She’d never been this excited in her life. Cool air bathed her crotch and she wondered when he’d managed to unfasten her pants. She lost track of that thought when his tongue flicked against her swollen clit. Her hips buckled and she cried out. He rubbed the flat of his tongue against her several times and then lifted his head. He reached for his cherry slush and took a drink. Reagan almost had time to collect her scattered thoughts before he lowered his head and dribbled a trail of frigid ice over her hot and achy flesh. She groaned when he lowered his head to warm her with the friction of his tongue and lips.

Within seconds her womb tightened and the first ripples of orgasm gripped her aching center. “Trey, Trey, Trey!” she chanted as she came, wishing he was inside her as her core clenched with hard spasms of pure bliss.

“You’re gushing,” he said as if in awe and started lapping at her freely flowing juices. “You taste so good,” he murmured, “Reagan mixed with cherry.”

Still trembling with aftershocks of release, she chuckled. The guy had a thing for cherry. He continued to lick and suckle her while he removed her pants. Her panties, which she had taken off back at Dare’s house, were still in her pocket. With nothing on but her tank top around her waist, she found herself mostly naked while Trey was still fully clothed. Didn’t seem quite fair. She wanted to see him. Touch him. Kiss him. Taste him, too.

She sat up in the seat and reached for his shirt, tugging impatiently at the fabric along his back. He caught her hands and locked fingers with her, his tongue still dancing over the heated flesh between her thighs.

“Trey,” she whispered desperately. “I want to touch you.”

“I couldn’t stand it,” he said. “After I come, you can touch me as much as you want. I’m much too excited right now though.”

His tongue plunged into her body. Twirled inside her. Withdrew. Plunged inside again. Twirled. Withdrew. She writhed against his face, unable to control the motion of her hips. Oh dear God, if he kept that up much longer she’d come again. He released one of her hands and softly, gently stroked her quivering belly. Her hand moved to his hair and tangled in the long silky strands. She tried to tug him upward, to direct him to her throbbing clit, but he resisted, still teasing her pussy with that talented tongue of his. She felt her tank top go taut against her waist. He grabbed her hand, did some fancy twist, and the next thing she knew her wrist was trapped at her side, imprisoned by her own shirt.

He lifted his head and said, “Don’t interfere,” before nipping her clit. Her entire body jerked. He flicked the sensitive nub with his tongue, sucked on it until she was writhing against his face again, and then switched to suckling her swollen lips.

“You’re killing me, Trey,” she said breathlessly. “Will you just fuck me already?”

He lifted his head and chuckled. “I thought you’d never ask.”

He wanted her to ask? If she’d known that, she would have asked ten minutes ago. He shifted back to kneel on the floor between her wide open legs. The cold air that bathed her slick heat reminded her how much she needed him inside her. She struggled to free her wrist from her twisted tank top and, once free, she sat up and reached for Trey’s belt. He was checking the pockets of his jeans frantically.

Reagan unfastened his belt and worked at the buttons of his fly. Trey had his wallet out and was digging around inside. When Reagan got his pants open, she reached inside and carefully pulled his cock out of his pants.

He shuddered. “W-wait,” he breathed.

His cock was magnificent—long and hard, tipped with a large, thick head that she wanted to suck almost as much as she wanted it inside her.

“Hurry,” she whispered. “God, I want you.”

“Fuck!”

“Yeah, fuck. That’s what I had in mind.”

He grimaced when she rubbed her thumbs over his cock head in wide circles.

“You wouldn’t happen to have a condom on you, would you?”

“Not on me, no. You’re supposed to put it on you and put it in me.” She chuckled.

“I don’t have one with me.”

She groaned. “Please tell me you’re joking.”

He bit his lip and shook his head. “I probably lost them one of the times I hit the deck at the skate park. Or when I bought our drinks. Or at Dare’s house. Or at the hospi—”

She released a frustrated breath. “Maybe there’s a drugstore nearby. We’ll send the driver in.” She peeked out the window and found they were in a familiar parking lot. “Oh, I’m home. I do have condoms upstairs.”

Trey breathed a sigh of relief. “Awesome. I’m dying to bury myself inside you.”

Chapter 7

When Ethan heard Reagan fumbling with her key in the lock of the front door, he glanced up from the boxing match he was watching on TV. Wide smile on his face, he climbed to his feet and prepared for her excited launch into his waiting arms. He probably shouldn’t love it when she was excited about something, but Lord he missed the feel of her body against his. As far as Ethan was concerned, any excuse to embrace Reagan Elliot was a good excuse.

The door swung open and she stumbled into the room, pulling some laughing guy into the apartment by his T-shirt. Barefoot, she tossed her boots on the floor near the entryway, which freed her hand to grab onto the guy with both hands. So she could pull his mouth against hers and kiss him hungrily.

Ethan’s smile faded. She’d brought home another dipshit who was in no way good enough for her. Ethan straightened his spine, prepared to use all six feet two inches of his muscular frame to its full, intimidating advantage.

Said dipshit wrapped both arms around Reagan’s narrow back to deepen their kiss and kicked the door closed behind him. “Where’s the bedroom?” he said against her lips. His hands moved to squeeze her luscious ass. Ethan stifled an angry growl.

Reagan drew away, took the guy by the hand, and took two steps in the direction of her bedroom when she noticed Ethan standing there. At least she had the decency to flush.

“Oh, Ethan,” she said. “This is… This is Trey. My, um, new…boyfriend?” She glanced at this Trey fellow and he smiled at her like the dipshit he was.

Boyfriend? When in the hell had that happened? Ethan would have known if she’d so much as gone on a date with anyone. She still confided everything to him. The dipshit, Trey, stepped forward, his hand extended in greeting. Ethan got his first good look at the guy and his gut clenched with a powerful longing. Wow. The man was sex incarnate. This guy was straight? Ethan had a hard time buying that. Ethan’s lust was never wrong. He could pick out a piece of hot tail from a mile away, and this guy was the hottest tail he’d ever laid eyes on.

“Hey,” Ethan said and accepted Trey’s hand. He could smell Reagan’s sex all over the guy, so either Trey was very confused or in denial. Or, in a perfect world, bisexual. “Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise,” Trey said, his gaze raking down Ethan’s body. Yeah, this hunk of hotness was not everything Reagan thought he was. She hadn’t been able to accept Ethan’s sexuality. She wouldn’t be able to accept this new guy’s either.

“How come you haven’t mentioned Trey before?” Ethan asked Reagan.

Her cheeks went pink again. The woman cursed like a sailor, but talking about her love interests made her blush. “Well, I just met him today.”

“Moving a little fast, aren’t you?”

Reagan scowled at him and then smacked him in the arm. “Shut up. If you try to mess this up for me I’ll shave your head in your sleep and superglue the hair to your balls.”

Ethan knew she’d do it, too.

Trey’s sexy green eyes began to roam the apartment. He draped an arm around Reagan’s narrow waist and rested his hand on her hip as if getting comfortable to stand there for a while. Apparently he realized that Ethan was on a mission to keep Reagan out of her bedroom for as long as possible.

“So tell me about the audition,” Ethan said to Reagan, trying not to stare at Trey’s mouth. The man had a beautiful mouth. A beautiful mouth that would look phenomenal wrapped around Ethan’s hard, thick…

Reagan’s eyes widened and she went animated. The way she reacted when she was really excited about something. Ethan loved to get her excited. “Oh my God, can you believe it? They liked my playing so much they didn’t even finish listening to all the contestants. I’m going out on tour with Exodus End in three weeks.”

“And Sinners,” Trey added absently. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a red lollipop. He unwrapped it and stuck it in that beautiful mouth of his. Ethan’s belly clenched and his cock stirred to life.

Reagan looked up at Trey in question. “Sinners?”

“Yeah, we’re co-headlining with Exodus End this tour.”

“You mean we’re going to be on tour together?” she said, the pitch of her voice rising with each word.

“Dare didn’t mention that?”

“No,” she squealed and bounced up and down on the balls of her feet.

Ethan chuckled. She was so adorable when she was excited.

“Such a fucktard,” Trey commented and tugged the sucker out of his mouth.

Ethan practically felt the tug of Trey’s suction on the head of his cock. Mercy, the man was sensual. And judging by the sidelong glance he offered Ethan, he knew it.

Reagan hugged Trey, her entire body trembling with excitement. “And just when I thought my day couldn’t get any better.”

“Your night’s going to get a whole lot better,” he murmured into her ear. “If we ever make it to the bedroom.” He lifted his gaze just enough to catch Ethan staring at him. He grinned crookedly and then sucked that lollipop back into his mouth.

Ethan stifled a groan. “So you’re in a band too?” Ethan asked.

Reagan spun around to gape at him. “This is Trey,” she said, shaking her head at Ethan. “Trey Mills. Ethan, get your brain out of cold storage. I talk about the guitarists of Sinners constantly. How talented they are. Do you ever listen to a word I say?”

Ethan racked his brain for a name he’d heard amongst Reagan’s ceaseless prattling about guitarists and could only come up with, “Brian Saint Claire?”

“Brian Sinclair,” Reagan said and rolled her eyes at him. “Brian’s the lead guitarist for Sinners. Trey is rhythm.”

Rhythm? Ethan bet the man knew quite a few things about rhythm, and if not, Ethan would be more than happy to show him.

Trey winked at Ethan, a knowing grin on his face. He pulled the sucker out of his mouth and gave it a few flicks with his tongue before sliding it back into his mouth through his tightened lips. In. Out. In. Out. The fucker was tormenting Ethan on purpose. Trey moved to stand behind Reagan and wrapped both arms around her waist. She leaned back against him and Ethan gritted his teeth. Ethan didn’t know why he didn’t just move on. Things would be a lot more tolerable if he didn’t still love Reagan or if he wasn’t attracted to men, but he had both problems and wasn’t sure what to do about it. Well, besides getting rid of these guys she brought home as quickly as possible. Funny, he didn’t think his usual intimidation tactics would work with Trey. Trey was probably well aware of Ethan’s instant attraction to him. Ethan wondered if Trey was attracted to him as well or if he really was just fucking with him because he found giving men blue balls amusing.

“You said something about finding me a job, too,” Ethan said to keep Reagan talking and out of the bedroom. He’d been doing piecework since he’d left the force. Some high-profile bodyguard work for celebrities and low-profile security at events, but nothing long-term. A more steady flow of income would be a welcome change. Especially since it meant he got to keep an eye on Reagan. He worried about her constantly. She was too reckless for her own good. Exhibit A was standing right in front of him giving that lollipop one hell of a blow job.

“The band thinks I’ll need a personal bodyguard. I think they’re—”

“Absolutely right,” Trey said. “Fans don’t usually intend to harm anyone, but they can get carried away. No one wants to see you hurt.” Trey pulled the sucker from his mouth and placed a series of gentle sucking kisses on the sensitive spot just below Reagan’s earlobe. Her eyelids fluttered, and she clung to Trey’s thighs with both hands. “He’ll probably spend most of his time trying to protect you from me,” Trey murmured in a sexy growl.

“Then he’s fired,” Reagan said.

Ethan cleared his throat. Trey stared him in the eye as he drew his tongue up along the side of Reagan’s neck. Ethan’s balls clenched. What a fucking bastard. He had to know that would turn Ethan on. Why was he torturing him?

“So what exactly will my duties be?” Ethan asked, trying to ignore the way Reagan was rubbing her sweet ass against Trey’s crotch. Ethan still remembered how well that ass fit his palms while she rode him. How hot and slick and tight her pussy felt as it slid up and down his length.

Trey paused and looked up at Ethan. “You talk too much.” He lifted his hand and stuck his half-eaten sucker in Ethan’s mouth. “Where’s your bedroom, Reagan? Or I could just bend you over that sofa there and finish what we started in the limo.”

Limo?

“This way,” Reagan said and grabbed a handful of Trey’s T-shirt. She tugged him into her bedroom and shut the door before Ethan could come up with another stall tactic.

Shit. Where were his sound-blocking headphones? There was no way he’d be able to survive listening to those sexy sounds Reagan made when she was getting it good. And Ethan had no doubt that Trey Mills was going to give it to her good.