Hawk and Dove (Rock Star Romance Novel) (22 page)

I gasp as Trent’s hands work their way up the front of the
oversized sweater I threw on during my getaway. He lifts the thick garment up
over my head as tosses it away, bringing his hands eagerly to my breasts. My
head falls back as he kneads them tenderly. I reach around and unhook my bra,
tugging it away from my body.

I don’t want anything between us.

Trent pulls the straps of my tiny tank top down over my
shoulders and tugs down my top.

His eyes drink in the sight of me, straddling him topless. I
let out a little cry as he scoops me up into his arms, hoisting me up off the
bar. I wrap my legs tighter around his body, kissing every part of his face I
can reach.

He carries me across the jet, shouldering his way through
the back doors. They slam shut behind us, and I see that we’ve tucked ourselves
away into a surprisingly spacious bedroom.

I lower myself onto the soft carpet and lean against the
wall, pulling Trent hard against me. He leans into my body, his manhood
throbbing against me. We kiss earnestly, feverishly, even. I lift the hem of
his tee shirt, peeling it off his firm upper body. My skin meets his, as I tug
him closer, my breasts pressing firmly against his chest. I let my lips wander
down to the flat panes of his pecs, counting off each defined ab as I make my way
further and further...

A low moan escapes Trent’s throat as I back him up toward
the huge bed behind us. I guide him across the space, push him down onto the
mattress so that he’s sitting before me, his eyes blazing with reverent
wanting.

Meeting his gaze as steadily as I can, I whip open his belt
buckle and tug his jeans down away from his body, taking his briefs along as
well. His stiff, pulsating member springs from its linen sheath, and I don’t
even get his jeans fully off his legs before I wrap my hands around it. I can’t
help it, I need to feel him.

I work my hands up and down the length of him, as slow as I
can stand to. Trent arches his back, and I can feel him growing even harder at
my touch. Keeping my hands firmly wrapped around him, I wet my lips and lower
my mouth to the tip of his member. Ever so lightly, I kiss the bulging head of
his manhood, relishing the sharp intake of breath that escapes from his throat.
There’s no way I’ll be able to fit all of him in my mouth, but dammit if I’m
not going to try anyway.

Running my hands along his stiff shaft, I wrap my lips all
around the tip of him. He groans deliciously as I let my tongue glance against
the tender underside of him. Tracing long, luscious circles around his head, I
work my way down, pulling more and more of him deeper into my throat.

Trent buries his fingers in my hair as I lick and suck along
the length of him. I need both hands and my mouth to take all of him, and I
do—working every inch of his pulsing manhood. I lose myself in the taste of
him, the amazing sensation of feeling him in my hands, against my tongue,
between my lips.

“Ellie...” Trent rasps, “You’ve got me so close.”

That’s exactly what I wanted to hear. I lift my lips from
around him, letting my hands travel up and away from his stiff member. As much
as I want to keep sucking until he comes for me, filling up my mouth with all I
can swallow, I want to feel him inside me even more.

I push his shoulders down onto the mattress, straddling him
once more. He pops open the button of my jean shorts and slides them down over
my ass and legs. I hook my fingers into my panties and tug them off as well.
Looking intently into my eyes, Trent lowers his hand to my slick slit. A low,
rumbling moan rattles within him as he feels how wet he’s made me already.

I rest my hands against his firm chest as he runs his
fingers along the length of me. Trent looses two fingers and slides them slowly
up inside of me, pressing against the tender flesh between my legs. I close my
eyes, pressing down against his masterful hands.

I let out a cry of delight as he presses his thumb against
the throbbing, swollen need between my legs, rubbing me in just the right way.
I rock myself against his touch as he sends me hurtling toward bliss. I hold
out, savoring the build of my own ecstasy until I’m on the edge.

As I reach the apex of my impending pleasure, I knock
Trent’s hands away. He takes my cue and grabs for a condom. He tears the
package and slides the rubber onto his rock hard manhood. I push his shoulders
back onto the mattress again, straddle his hips, and slowly lower myself onto
his throbbing member.

We cry out together as I slide down onto him. His thick
stiffness parts the silky flesh inside of me, plunging deep into my body.

I look down at him in wonder as he presses ever further,
opening places I never knew existed. The feel of him inside me is dizzying, and
I need more. As much as I can get. I rock against him as he meets me thrust for
thrust. Leaning over his pounding hips, my breasts bouncing, I bring him
closer, and closer.

My mouth opens in a long, throaty moan as his thrusting body
presses up against that hard, throbbing nub—the very center of my pleasure.
Suddenly I’m back at the edge, poised on the brink of bliss.

“I’m gonna...I’m—” I whisper breathlessly. But Trent doesn’t
need any prompting. He lifts me ever-so-slightly away before pulling me down
hard onto his deepest, most forceful thrust yet.

Our faces screw up into silent howls of overwhelming
pleasure as we come together, crashing through wave after wave of utter bliss.
I let my head fall back as I bounce ecstatically on his final emphatic thrusts.
The rippling shockwaves of pleasure travel through me, searing along every cell
and nerve as I settle into the warm wave of orgasmic bliss.

I fall heavily against Trent’s chest, rising and falling
with his every heaving breath. We lay together, still connected in the most
intimate way, as our breathing becomes as one. Words don’t exist to describe
what happens when we meet like this. I never knew that the kind of desire
existed that only intensifies even as it’s sated. I don’t think I’ll ever be
able to get enough of Trent like this, though I’m certainly going to keep
trying.

The exhaustion of my wild flight from the festival begins to
overwhelm me. The long, emotionally-wrought drive, the confrontation of my
deadbeat father, Trent’s miraculous appearance, and now this, all slam into me
at once. Sleep descends, whisking me away to the dream world...

Chapter Seventeen

I listen to Ellie’s breathing as it slows, feeling her body
relax on top of my own. As gently as I can, I lower her onto the bed, slipping
free from our intimate point of connection.

I pull her against my chest, spooning her as she falls more
soundly asleep. Though I close my eyes as well, I know that sleep is still far
off. I never doze for more than a couple of hours at a time, after all.

Truth be told, I’m perfectly content to stay here with
Ellie, holding her as she claims some well-deserved hours of shuteye. It’s been
a longer day for her than I'm sure she’s used to. I tug her a little closer,
grateful that her long, desperate drive didn’t end in disaster.

Even more grateful still that she accepted me once I arrived
to ask her back. I honestly couldn’t have said when I started out whether she
was going to come away with me or not. Of course, now that I do have her here
with me, the next step in our journey is a total mystery to me. Once we get
back to the festival, what happens then?

I’ve just fired the one and only manager my band has ever
had, and we’re playing a huge show in less than twenty four hours. On top of
that, Ellie’s got a show to play right before ours, and she happens to be down
one half of her band. I doubt that Mitch is going to be waiting in Kansas for
her with a box of chocolates and an apology. Taking responsibility for his own
actions doesn’t seem to be his style.  

I can’t help but feel responsible for breaking up Ellie’s
duo. Sure, they would have gone their separate ways eventually, but they probably
would've gone a little longer without falling apart if I hadn’t come into the
picture. My presence forced Mitch’s jealousy to the surface, leaving Ellie no
choice but to reject him. I know she doesn’t blame me, but I still feel like I
need to find a way to make it up to her.

Then there’s the question of my own band. We had an
excellent show the other night, and the guys have been really patient with me
throughout the festival, but I don’t know how much more they’re going to
tolerate. They’ve already threatened to jump ship, and I know full well that
they weren’t messing around. That’s not their style.

I haven’t been a good band mate since I met Ellie. But
that’s not her fault, and it’s not because what we’re doing is wrong—it’s all
on me. I’ve got to make all of this right.

Part of me wishes that I could stretch this short flight on
into an eternity. Just stay here, curled up with Ellie, and never have to think
about the rest of the world again. I let my imagination supply a picture of us,
tucked away somewhere together.

For some reason, I picture a little house on a lake, with a
long dock running out into the water. I see us, lounging in beat up beach
chairs, nursing a couple of cool beers, our toes dangling down into the
water...if only things could ever be that simple.

Even if I really did want to leave my music career behind,
which I have to admit I emphatically don’t, it’s not like I could ask Ellie to
drop everything and run away with me. Her career is just beginning and who
knows how successful she’s going to become in her own right.

With a voice like hers, and the way she has with words, she
stands a good shot at becoming huge. I wonder if she even realizes how good she
is? Or whether she knows that she never needed Mitch in the first place?

I can’t even let her know how badly I wish we could just
exempt ourselves from all the music industry bullshit and do what we love to do
without all the extra drama.

As the sky regains its charcoal gray, pre-dawn color, an
idea occurs to me. There’s a way I can help Ellie without forcing her out of
the game before it’s even begun. It’s incredibly risky, and it may very well
blow up in my face...but it might work. I rest my arm against Ellie’s and give
her a little nudge, trying to draw her back out of sleep. She snuggles in
closer to my body, unwilling to be roused.

“Ellie,” I whisper, kissing her lightly on the cheek,
“Ellie, we’re almost there.”

“OK,” she mumbles. She has no intention of waking up just
yet.

“I have an idea,” I tell her, “For your show.”

“I don’t have a show anymore,” she sighs, still mostly
asleep, “Mitch left.”

“I know,” I tell her, “That’s the thing. I think I know
someone who can replace him.”

“Who?”

“Me,” I tell her, “I could play for you instead.”

A moment passes as her slumbering mind finally shakes out of
its stupor. She cranes her neck, looking intently into my eyes to see if I’m
serious. But there’s no ambiguity in my intentions. I’m one hundred percent
serious about this.

“Trent,” she says, turning to face me, “My music is completely
different than yours. And there’s not enough time to learn it, anyway.”

“I know how to play things other than hard rock,” I tell
her, “And I don’t think that Mitch’s instrumentation was quite as complicated
as he led you to believe. I can pick it up, easy.”

“But what about...you know. Your image, or whatever?” she
says uneasily, “I feel like you’re going to get enough shit from your fans now
that we’ve been seen together. But if I turn you into my backup guitar?
There’ll be a riot.”

“I’m not worried,” I say.

“I am,” she replies, “You’re not the one they’re going to
hate for it.”

“Who is ‘they’?” I ask.

“Everybody,” she says anxiously, “Everybody in the world is
going to think I’m just a fame-hungry hanger-on, using you for your success.”

“Is that what you’re doing?” I ask.

“Of course not,” she says.

“Then why does it matter?”

“Because I’m not used to this,” she says, “I’m not used to
being the target of people’s interest and ire. I need to be taking baby steps
here, not running full speed ahead into public disapproval.”

“Ellie,” I say, “You’re forgetting one very important thing
in this equation.”

“What’s that?” she asks.

“The fact that you’re one of the most lovable people most of
the world will have ever laid eyes on,” I say.

“You...think I’ve lovable?” she asks slowly. My heart starts
to beat faster in my chest. I hadn’t meant to bring the “L” word into all of
this, but now that it’s hanging in the air between us, I can’t very well back
down either. I take a deep breath and meet her rapt gaze.

“I think you’re incredibly lovable,” I tell her, “Which is
why, I suppose...that I'm falling in love with you.”

Not exactly the most graceful speech of my life, but I don’t
have time to dwell on it. Her mouth hangs up just the tiniest bit, and for a
second I worry that she’s going to tell me to shove it. But then her lips pull
up into a contented bow, a smile of pure delight.

“I suppose it turns out that I'm falling in love with you
too,” she says with a smile.

A big, dumb grin spreads across my face, and I hug her
tightly against me. For a decade, I’ve been cultivating my tough, crude,
unsentimental image for the rest of the world. Who would have thought that one
small town girl could have cracked that rocky exterior right open?

Somehow, she’s managed to see straight through the layers of
false bullshit, straight to who I am really am. And even knowing that, she
still cares about me.

“I think we should do it,” she says.

“Do...what?” I ask, perplexed.

“Play together,” she says resolutely. “I think it’s a great
idea.”

“That’s more like it,” I say, “It’s going to be amazing,
you’ll see. It’s going to be great.”