Rock Angel (Rock Angel Series Book 1) (40 page)

Then he froze, his gaze riveted between her legs.

She winced, pulling her knees together. “The stylist did that. It’s a bikini wax.”

“You mean a Brazilian,” he corrected her, still staring at it in a near catatonic state.

“Whatever,” she snapped. “It hurt like hell, but it itches when it grows back so I’ve had to keep shaving it.” He pushed her knees apart again and ran his hand over the velvety seam, watching with great attentiveness as it opened under his touch.

She squirmed again. “Stop it! You’re embarrassing me.”

“Oh,” he said. “Okay.” Then his mouth dove between her thighs.

Her back arched and she could feel her body building up to a fervent pitch. She gasped, clutching the bedcovers, helpless under the powerful sensations unfurling within her.

He pulled his mouth away. When she raised her head, she saw he was gazing up at her from between her legs and she instinctively started to curl in, to barricade herself from his gaze.

He spread his hand over her navel, stopping her. “Don’t,” he said.

“I—I’m embarrassed,” she repeated, whimpering.

“Why?” he asked, with a touch of incredulity. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” He turned his head and bit the flesh of her inner thigh lightly, just enough to tantalize. “You’re so fucking beautiful,” he breathed and his mouth was back between her legs.

He slid his hand down until it rested on her sex, one finger gently teasing the tiny nub from which all the sensation emanated. “Come for me, angel,” he whispered, then his tongue was on her again, whirring like a butterfly’s wing.

She arched up against his mouth. Her hips took on a life of their own and she couldn’t catch her breath as she gyrated against him. A sudden heat deep in her belly alerted her that she was going to come and she shoved and rocked herself against his mouth until the heat exploded.

She fell back, gasping. He struggled out of his pants, then his long, lean body was sliding against her. She wrapped her arms and legs around him, reveling in the feel of his flesh. When he kissed her, his lips were salty, musky, and she knew it was herself she was tasting.

She felt his cock between her legs and tilted her pelvis up to meet him. When he stopped, Shan opened her eyes. His face was very close and he was watching her. “Why are you stopping?”

“Savoring the moment,” he said huskily. “I’ve been waiting a long time for this.”

She looked up into his beautiful eyes. “Not as long as I have.”


Exactly
as long,” he corrected her, then slid into her up to the hilt.

Then he was moving and thrusting and kissing her. “Fuck me, angel.”

She rocked back and forth, utterly lost in the feel of him inside of her. She felt her body swelling, building again, to an even higher, tighter pitch. She half gasped, half sobbed, and grasped at his back, hot and slippery, slick with sweat.

“Fuck, it’s good,” he groaned, bending her legs, twisting them, pulling them over his shoulders to push deeper inside of her. “Do you feel it, angel?”

She felt it, all right. “Stop,” she gasped, squirming. “Please, Q. I can’t. It’s too much.”

But he didn’t stop, just pumped harder, faster. She couldn’t move, she was immobilized as he pounded into her, waves of pleasure coursing through her. This was different, so different from the last time. He’d made love to her then, but this was fucking, raw and savage, even brutal, but he was right, it was so fucking good, and when she climaxed again it was with a sound somewhere between a screech and a howl, her nails digging into his flesh.

“Me too,” he gasped and a moment later he came, his body tensing as he threw his head back with an animal cry.

Then he stayed rigid, his eyes fixed over her head. He had the strangest expression on his face, something like astonishment mixed with rapture. “Are you okay?” she whispered.

He pulled his gaze from whatever vision held him captive and looked down at her.

“Holy fuck.”
He shook his head, staring at her with wonder in his eyes. He kissed her, then relaxed, his body sinking deep into hers.

 

Later, after they’d done it again, they lay entwined, dazed and spent. Quinn’s face was buried against Shan’s throat, his breathing slow and steady. She thought he was asleep, but he stirred when she trailed her fingers through his hair.

He rested his chin lightly against her breast, his lips curving into a languid smile. “Hi.”

She smiled, too, grateful he didn’t look horrified. “Sorry I woke you.”

“I wasn’t asleep. Just comfortable.” He rolled over, propped himself against the pillows, and held out his arms. Shan scooted into them, burrowing her face into his chest.

He chuckled. “You’re tickling me.” He slipped his fingers under her chin and raised her head to regard her warmly. “You look cute all rumply and tousled.”

“You’re pretty rumpled yourself.” She slid further beneath the covers and groped between his legs.

His cock was soft now, pliable, nothing like the stony, rigid shaft that had pounded into her a short time before. It wasn’t the biggest one she’d ever seen, or the thickest. It was long and elegant, though, just like the rest of Quinn’s body was, and it fit nicely in her hand.

Suddenly she realized that it was coming to life, stiffening and growing as she examined it. She looked up at him, surprised. “Again?”

He smiled in a most lascivious manner, then rolled over on his back and pulled her on top of him. As she began to move, he swept her hair forward so that her curls spilled around his face. “Just like a curtain,” he said dreamily, “blocking out the world.”

“What?” she asked, stopping, but he gripped her behind, moving her. He strained upward, matching her rhythm, until he tensed and emptied himself inside of her again.

Afterward he wound himself around her. He fit against her like a glove and a sigh of absolute contentment escaped her as she began to drift into an easy sleep.

Then she had a thought that woke her right up. “Are…are you going back to your own room?” she asked.

He opened one drowsy eye. “I wasn’t planning on it. Why, do you want me to?”

“No,” she said, feeling an odd little twinge, “but…never overnight.”

He snorted a little, nestling his face against her hair. “When has that ever applied to
you
? You’ve always broken all my rules. Never underage. Never overnight. Never—”

His eyes popped open, all evidence of sleepiness vanished.

“Shit,” he said. “
Shit.

“What?” she asked.

“Do you…” he began, and then hesitated. “I mean, are you—” He stopped.

“Am I what?”

“Never mind,” he said in a resigned tone. “You aren’t.”

“What?”

“On the Pill.”

“Oh,” she said. “No, I’m not. I have a diaphragm.”

He frowned. “I didn’t feel anything.”

“Probably not,” she said, “because I’m not wearing it.”

“Oh.” He fell silent. She regarded him narrowly.

“What about you? You’re the biggest safe-sex advocate I know.”

“You’re right.” He nodded, rolling over and staring at the ceiling. “I’m never unprepared. I have a whole box of condoms,” he added, “right in the next room.”

“I’m sorry, Q.” She was staring at him, her brow still furrowed. “I just didn’t think.”

“Me, neither. No point in worrying about it.”

“I think it’ll be all right,” she said, calculating the days since her last period in her head.

Suddenly he was tugging the covers away to press his bare flesh against her again and she could feel him getting hard. “Again? We already did it three times.”

“Let’s make it four.”

“On one condition. Go get those condoms, Mr. Marshall.”

chapter 36

Shan pulled the comforter over her nose. She was loathe to emerge from the soft fuzziness of sleep. The blanket over her brain was as comfy and warm as the one wrapped around her body. She felt safe, and contented, and…and…

Raw.

Holy shit!
Her eyes opened and shot to the other side of the bed.

It was empty. Quinn was nowhere in sight. He’d bolted.

Goddammit!
She knew that would happen.
She knew it!
And here she was, alone again.

She was damned if she’d sit here and wait for him to come back all ashamed and repentant, with that disgusting, guilty look on his face. She scrambled out of bed and pulled a T-shirt over her head, then grabbed her cut-offs from the chair she’d tossed them on the night before. Spotting her panties trailing out from under the bed, she snatched them.

She stared at the shredded piece of silk in dismay, then let it flutter to the floor. She pulled on the shorts, shoved her feet into flip-flops, then cautiously inched open the door.

The sitting room was empty.
Thank God
. She needed a shower—she reeked of sex—but she had to get out of there before he showed up. She just couldn’t face it, that guilty look.

She was halfway to the door when a sound froze her in her tracks. Her gaze traveled to the breakfast bar that led into the small kitchenette and she watched the top of a blond head come into view around the corner.

Quinn’s crystalline eyes appeared next. “Good morning,” he said.

She stared back at him mutely.

“Going somewhere?”

She found her voice. “Yes. I have to be someplace.”

He looked dubious, but didn’t ask where. “Don’t you want some coffee?” She heard a splash and a mug appeared on top of the breakfast bar.

She hesitated, then approached the kitchenette and perched on one of the stools. She kept her eyes on the floor as she sipped the coffee. The hot liquid cleared the last of the fuzziness from her brain and she sneaked a glance at Quinn.

He was staring at her intently, arms folded on top of the counter.

She raised the mug to her mouth in an elaborate show of casualness. Her elbow struck the edge of the counter and her hand jerked, spilling a bit of the hot coffee into her lap. She winced.

He continued to watch her, one eyebrow rising in a questioning manner.

Her temper snapped. “
What?

“Just wondering how long before you start wigging out on me.”

She elevated her chin. “I’m not wigging.”

He eyed her for another moment, then turned away. “You are.”

“I’m not,” she insisted, as he emerged from the kitchen and climbed on the stool next to her. He regarded her with amusement and she attempted a glare, but his grin was so engaging, his eyes so affectionately teasing, that she could feel herself beginning to relax. “Oh, all right. Maybe I’m wigging a little. I’m not exactly used to this.”

“Me neither.”

“Bullshit,” she said. “You wake up with a different woman every day of the week.”

“It’s rare for me to wake up with anyone at all. You know that. And waking up next to
you
? That’s definitely something new.”

She pointed her nose in the air. “No, it isn’t.”

“Fair enough,” he conceded. “I’ve never woken up
naked
next to you.” She flushed and averted her eyes again. “So,” he continued, “how are you feeling this morning?”

“I’m all right,” she said, “but a little confused. I mean, we didn’t talk about this at all.”

He rolled his eyes. “We’ve been talking about it for years.”

She saw his point and smiled. “But we didn’t talk before we did it. We just—jumped.”

“Well, that’s the way we do things, you and me.” He shrugged. “I always figured it would happen that way, although it didn’t really turn out like I thought it would.”

Her smile faded. “What do you mean?”

He grinned and wrapped one of her long curls around his fingers. “I didn’t expect it to be so mind blowing,” he clarified. “The last time was awesome, but last night—holy fuck!”

“You said before that it was mind blowing. Earth shattering.” She paused and bit her lip.

“Life changing.” He nodded. “But that was intense in a different way. Emotionally, I guess. Last night was about passion, don’t you think? All steamy and sexy and hot.
Dirty
hot.” His fingers slid down to her thigh. “It took me a little by surprise, that’s all. I didn’t expect it to be so…so…”

“I did,” she cut in. “I knew it would be good, because we’re good together.”

“Yes. We are.” His hand began stroking her thigh, very gently, then slid into her shorts.

His eyes shot up to her face and she thrust out her chin. “I couldn’t put them on. They were in shreds. They—”

Suddenly she was off the stool and on her back on the carpet, and he was on top of her, tugging at her clothes. She began to speak but shut up when he thrust his tongue into her mouth.

Then she stopped thinking, because he was inside of her again.

 

Hours later Shan was back in bed, curled against Quinn with one arm thrown over his chest. She kissed his shoulder and shifted to kiss his mouth, but stopped when she saw the look on his face. “What’s wrong with you?” she said.

He didn’t answer right away, but she could tell he had something to say. He was never good at holding things in, so she waited him out.

“I always knew you were going to fuck me up,” he blurted after just a few moments. “I knew it the very first time I set eyes on you. You should have had a hazmat label on your forehead.” He let go of her, got out of bed, and stomped over to the window.

“You’re mad at me?” She stared at him, mystified. “What did I do?”

“I’m mad at
myself
,” he corrected her, keeping his back turned. “I should never have let you in the fucking band in the first place. You were too goddamned young and I shouldn’t have gotten so involved in your problems, either, because
then
I felt responsible for you. And I definitely shouldn’t have talked you into moving out to LA,” he added. “Guitar players are a dime a dozen there. Why the
fuck
didn’t I just let you stay in New York, where you belonged?”

She drew back, stung. “Why the
fuck
are you yelling at me, Q?”

He ignored her, still railing. “Then I decide we ought to live together. What the fuck was I thinking? And then that day on the mountain. Christ,” he spat. “That was the worst mistake of all. Of all the things I shouldn’t have done, that was the thing I shouldn’t have done the
most
.”

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