Rock the Boat (7 page)

Lark glances behind her, making sure there’s enough room for her to lay down without falling on the floor. When she’s semi-comfortable, or as comfortable as you can get on top of a speaker, I slide my hands up her calves. Goosebumps quickly break out all over her skin. By the time I reach her thighs, she’s practically shivering. I love how each tiny tickle of my fingers elicits a different response.

“You’re so beautiful, Lark. These legs are going to feel so good wrapped around me.” She stays perfectly still, waiting for me to devour her. But I take my time, making sure she understands how much I want her—how this isn’t some spur of the moment decision. I’ve been thinking about her beneath me since she walked through the doors of the lounge. We may have just met, but I plan on getting to know each and every inch of her—tonight.

She moans when I reach the edge of her panties. I pull back the thin strip of lace with my teeth, making her body tense. I could easily pull them all the way down and over her heels like this, but I don’t have that much patience left inside me. They need to come off, and it needs to happen quickly. She’s as surprised as I am when I grip them between my hands and split them down the middle. The red satin rips open, revealing her completely bare pussy.

My tongue darts out, eager to sample the smooth skin. Lark sucks in a breath, her entire stomach contracting from only the tip of my tongue. “Relax, we’re just getting started.”

“It’s—it’s been awhile.”

Before I continue, she needs to know she’s going to leave here fully satisfied. I move up her body and tell her, “Tonight is about you. Just feel, Lark. Feel how much I want
you
.” And fuck do I want her.

“Okay,” she says, just as I move farther down her body. This time, I don’t take it as slow. She’s hanging on the edge, and I need her to hold on a little longer.

Placing a kiss under her belly button, her eyes blink lazily as she waits to see what I’ll do next. I wait her out, curious if she’ll beg for it, but when her raspy voice floats through the air breathlessly, I lose control. “I want you, Easton.” Just hearing her say
my
name, instead of his, has my dick so hard it’s pushing painfully against my zipper.

I have her right where I want her. Right where she belongs. “Stay with me gorgeous.”

“I’m here,” she whispers. She squeezes my hand that’s splayed across her stomach. I take it as my go-ahead to continue. Blowing softly on her pussy, she releases the breath she was holding. “I don’t even know you. You never told me where you’re from or how old you are,” she rambles, her chest rising and falling faster than before.

“Do those things matter?”

“Well, no, but it would make this seem a little less reckless.”

Smiling against her skin, I lift my head. “No matter how fast or slow we go, the fact that I’m from New York won’t really change what I’m about to do to you.”

I wait for her to argue, but when she doesn’t, I dip my tongue into her. Her entire body stiffens, but I can tell my greedy girl wants more. Her hand finds the back of my head, gripping me tightly as she rocks against my face. Lark tastes exactly as I imagined—as sweet as they come. “That feels so good. Please don’t stop.”

The only time I do stop is to replace my mouth with my fingers, rubbing small circles around her clit, still never entering her. Her hips buck against my hand when I find her sweet spot. She sits up far enough to wrap her fingers around the back of my neck, pulling me closer until her lips are attacking mine. Her tongue flicks against mine, greedily.

With my free hand, I pat the air around me until my hand finds the drum sticks lying on top of the stool next to the speaker. Larks’ so focused on my mouth and the pleasure I’m giving her, she has no idea what’s coming.

I suck on her tongue one last time before pulling my mouth away from hers. She whimpers, the loss unwelcomed, but she doesn’t have time to argue because I push the top of the first stick into her mouth. At first she’s hesitant, but once she realizes this is for her own benefit, she wraps her mouth around the end of it, sucking hard. All I can do is imagine what her lips would look like wrapped around my cock. “That mouth, Lark.”

She looks up at me, her innocent eyes betraying the little vixen that she’s become. Her mouth sucks even harder, her tongue swirling around the tip of the stick, no doubt showing me what it would be like if I was in her mouth instead.

“You’re so damn sexy,” I tell her before I pull the stick of her mouth. She holds onto it a moment longer before letting it go with a pop of her lips. I trace a trail down her chest, between her breasts and over her stomach until I reach the top of her skirt that’s bunched around her waist. I could take it off, but I leave it where it’s at. Still rubbing her clit with my left hand, I push the stick into her drenched pussy with my other.

Even though she watched every inch the stick has traveled, she still gasps when it enters her. “Do you want more?”

“Yes, I need more, Easton.”

I grab the other stick off the stool and repeat the exact same trail down her body. This time when I get to her pussy, I run the tip over her aching clit. Her head falls back, knocking against the speaker. Her hands frantically grasp the sides as she braces for the orgasm that’s about to rock her entire body.

I work each stick into it’s own pattern—in and out, around and around until I’m positive I’ve created the perfect song. “Your body is my favorite rhythm, Lark.”

“Easton, I can’t. I’m so close.”

“You can, Lark.” And she does as soon as I push the second stick inside of her. Her hips buck and she thrashes her head from side to side. She pants through each wave of her orgasm as she tries to absorb it. It’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen—my drumsticks inside of her, her chestnut curls spread out around her head, and her heels clenching me so tightly, I’m going to be left with marks on my back.

Once she stops shuttering, she lays in silence for a minute before sitting up and covering herself. “It’s a little late to be bashful, don’t you think.”

She rests her head against my stomach while I stoke the back of her head, my fingers tangling in her thick hair. “I’m not—I’m just trying to figure out what the hell just happened.”

I tuck the drum sticks in my back pocket, and lift her chin with my index finger. She hesitates, but I wait until she looks me in the eyes, never wanting her to feel ashamed for making music with me. Finally, with her chilling, blue eyes, she sees me. “I think
we
just happened, Lark. And it was fucking perfect.”

She blushes like she’s trying to comprehend what it must have been like from my perspective. “I’ve never—I don’t know what came over me.”

I did warn her I’d make her forget his name. Maybe now she’ll realize I’m not joking when I say those things. But regardless, I want her to own what happened. I stroke her cheek, making sure she understands when I tell her, “Don’t apologize for taking what you need. I’ll give it to you.”

She nods her head, but the blush still creeps down her neck and across her chest. “I feel like saying thank you is weird.”

“Then don’t say it. I don’t expect you to thank me for making you come.”

“Okay. We’ll just have an unspoken agreement that whatever that was, it was really good.” I try not to laugh because I don’t want her to shy away from me. In no way would I ever make fun of her, especially after being intimate, but her sudden innocence and the way she can go from sultry to angelic in a matter of minutes is like a drug. A drug I could quickly become addicted to. She only makes it worse when she asks, “Now what?”

“That’s up to you. There are no rules when it comes to hooking up.”

“Oh, I guess I assumed I would return the favor.”

“No expectations. No assumptions. Remember?”

“Right,” she whispers.

Leaning in, I hand her torn panties back to her before kissing her hard on the mouth. Our tongues meet briefly and while it would be so easy to finish what we started right here, I use every ounce of willpower I possess to walk away from her. This can either be the start of a fun as hell week, or the ending of one of the hottest nights I’ve had in a really long time. I decide to leave the choice up to her. “I’m in Room 309. Come find me when you want more.”

The tequila isn’t responsible. There’s a good chance I had more than a little bit of liquid courage coursing through my veins when Easton laid me down, but I knew what I was doing, and I wanted as much as he was willing to give me.

No matter how much I wanted it, I expect to feel guilty when I hop off the speaker, but I’m actually more relieved than anything. It may have been extremely out of character for me to hook-up with a guy I’d only known for a little over an hour, reckless even, but as soon as I spotted him at the bar, I knew I was in for the ride of my life. I didn’t give away the fact that I recognized him as the lead singer of Midnight Fate. I was afraid if I made too big a deal out of it, he’d think I only wanted him because of who he was.

It wasn’t his celebrity status that drew me in, it was the way he looked at me—like I was worth having. Whether or not he would screw me over tomorrow, I’d at least be completely worthy of this moment. It was evident in the sincerity of his eyes as he spoke to me while playing with the bar napkin in front of him. He looked up at me every couple seconds, hanging onto every word I said. Easton was interested, but his mystery scared me a little. Why would someone as successful as him be hiding away on a ship when he could be living a life of luxury elsewhere? There was no easy answer—at least nothing that made sense. What could have happened to make him run away from the rest of the world?