Sinful Ever After (Sinful Serenade Book 5) (12 page)

"About six. You feeling more rested?"

I nod. Sort of. My body is more relaxed, but my mind is still racing. No matter how many times I try to tell myself it's not possible, that I should just wait for my next period, I don't quite buy it.

"You're not going to believe this," he says.

"Believe what?"

He closes the door and presses his back against it. "Meg and Miles are getting married."

That's great! My lips curl into a smile. "Really? When?"

"In Vegas. As soon as possible."

I laugh. Of course, Drew is wearing a judgmental expression. He doesn't approve of them rushing.

"Why you looking at me like that, Kendrick?"

"No reason."

"They should figure out their shit. He asked us if we'd come early. He thinks Meg needs your help."

And Drew wants our vacation together. I want that too. I want a long, pregnancy-scare-free vacation.

His voice drops to something supportive and sweet. "What are you thinking?"

I clear my throat. It sounds like this wedding is happening in the next few days. This can wait. "We should go. Can we fly in tonight?"

He nods. "You sure that's it?"

No.

"Kara?"

I press my lips together. "It's probably nothing."

"Doesn't look like nothing."

"It can wait until after their wedding."

"Don't see why they can't set a date and send out invitations like normal people." He sits on the bed next to me. He leans in close enough to whisper. "Sweetheart, what the fuck is going on? You've got the weirdest look in your eyes."

Do I? I force myself to make eye contact. There's all this concern in his dark eyes.

Usually, I hate when people look at me like that. But not when Drew does it. When he does it, I know it's because he cares, because he loves me.

This
can
wait until after their wedding. It's probably nothing.

"It's romantic," I say. "Our wedding will still be nice. On the beach, with the sun shining behind us."

Of course, if I am pregnant, I'll be ready to burst in June.

And I'll have a newborn in September. If everything goes according to plan, I'll graduate this spring and start teaching this fall.

But if I'm pregnant...

Even with strict anti-discrimination laws, no one hires pregnant teachers. And nobody respects women who get a job then take maternity leave right away. Every female teacher warned us—people will give you shit about being pregnant and about taking maternity leave.

Even elementary school teachers, the ones who devote their lives to small children, get shit about having babies during the school year. As if they can pick a delivery date like magic.

Shit.

Teaching jobs are hard to come by. If I don't get hired right away, it might be two or three years before I find another gig.

Teaching may not pay as well as being a rock star, but I love it. I love middle school students. They're just starting to blossom into adults, and they're amazed by all the new ideas in books like
A Separate Peace
,
To Kill a Mockingbird
, and
Romeo and Juliet.

Drew is staring at me with all this concern in his eyes. It must be obvious I'm worried.

I run my fingers through his short hair. "You jealous, baby?"

"No. I just don't like them interrupting my plans."

"Yeah?"

He pats the bed. "I was gonna spend a lot of time right here."

"We'll have a bed in our hotel room."

"Not the same." He stares into my eyes. "There's something you aren't saying."

I nod.

"What is it?"

"It can wait. Get the tickets to fly to Vegas. Tonight, if we can."

"You sure?"

"Yes."

––––––––

D
rew

Fucking time zones.

I'm groggy on the flight and in the cab ride to the hotel. But I'm not groggy enough to miss that something is very fucking wrong.

Kara is tense. She tries to smile every time our eyes meet, but she's not pulling it off.

After we check in, she mumbles something about wanting to unpack, and she practically locks herself in the bedroom—the suite has a main area and a separate bedroom.

I give her half an hour to unpack then I take a shower. There's a chance I'm tired enough I'm reading this all wrong. The hot water feels amazing on my aching muscles. Not as amazing as her hands feel. Fuck, it's been too long apart. I need every drop of her.

When I'm done, I wrap a towel around my waist, and I join Kara in the bedroom.

She's sitting in the bed in the dark, covers around her waist. Her blouse hugs her more than ample chest in a way that looks hot as fuck but supremely uncomfortable.

Her big, brown eyes are filled with frustration. Her shoulders are up to her ears. There's tension in her jaw and neck.

Still, she licks her lips as she takes me in.

"You should lose the towel," she mumbles, her voice thick with desire.

My cock stirs at the thought of wiping away all her frustration with my body. God knows, I want her eyes rolling back in her head as she comes.

We have to deal with this—whatever it is—first.

I’ve never been good at relationships before. I've loved Kara since forever, but it took a while for me to figure it out. I was sure I was bad for her. I tried to protect her from everything, including me, but it didn't work.

She needs me.

I need her.

It's been eight months now. I still worry that I'm going to fuck it up sometimes. I haven't yet.

Mostly, it's good.

Mostly, it's better than fucking anything.

I wrap my arm around her. "Hey."

I want all of her. I want every thought in her head. I want to take the weight of every burden that weighs her down.

She nestles into my chest. Her breath is warm against my skin. "You smell good. But kinda girly."

"Used your soap."

"I thought so." She presses her lips to my chest. "If I asked you to fuck me until I stopped thinking, what would you say?"

I run my fingers through her long, dark hair. "We should talk first."

"Yeah, I figured." She looks up at me, her eyes heavy with a mix of frustration and desire. "For a rock star, you're really uptight."

"You're just figuring that out?"

She shakes her head. "You know, I hate Batman. Why doesn't he do something productive with his money instead of dressing up in spandex and hitting people? If he spent half that energy working on education in Gotham city, that would do a lot more to deter crime."

I laugh. She's trying to bait me. "Because Gotham City is corrupt. He can't trust the establishment to use the money for good."

"He could run a charity. Something. I think he prefers the city overrun with criminals so he has a reason to kick ass."

"I don't look to him as a role model."

"Uh-huh."

"When I was seventeen, maybe."

"You're not proud of yourself for beating up assholes?"

"I'm always going to protect you and Willow. You're not going to talk me out of that."

She's still baiting me. I do realize I'm easy to bait. My temper has a short fuse. But I'm never going to apologize for protecting the people I love, even if they prefer non-violence.

As far as I'm concerned, any guy who touches Kara doesn't deserve hands. Or breath.

My hand finds the neckline of her shirt. I play with it until her eyes are closed and she's purring lightly. I want to know what's wrong, but she's not going to talk until she relaxes.

I lay Kara on the bed and lie next to her. Immediately, she shifts her body toward mine, hooking her leg over my hip and cupping my cheek with her palm. The tenderness of her touch makes me warm everywhere.

Damn, her body is soft. Her tits pressed against my chest is heaven.

My cock stirs. It's impatient.

She lets out a soft gasp. "Already?"

I bring my hand to her ass to pull her closer. God damn, our bodies feel good like this. My hands want to stroke every inch of her skin.

My hands are greedy fuckers. They want her coming again and again.

As badly as I want to pin her to the bed, hike her skirt to her waist, and plant my head between her thighs, I need to make sure she's okay first.

I press my palms into her upper back, over her shirt, and pull her body into mine. "What's wrong?"

She shakes her head.

"Kara. Whatever it is, I want to help."

Again, she shakes her head. Her hand goes to her cheek. It's hard to make out her expression in the dark, but it looks like she's crying.

She sniffles. A sob breaks through her throat.

"Fuck." She wipes her tears and buries her face in my chest.

Her eyelashes brush against my skin. I can feel her tears against my chest. She's really crying.

I need to make that better.

I bring my hand to her chin and tilt her head so we're eye to eye. "Talk to me."

She wipes her eyes and stares at her palm like it did her wrong.

I've seen it do her very, very right a number of times. Blood rushes to my cock as I replay the image of her fucking herself for my viewing pleasure.

Can't go there yet.

I squeeze her hand.

She sighs with pleasure as she rubs her crotch against mine. "You're still hard."

"You forget the part where I fuck you
after
you talk to me?"

"That's a when. It's the chronology, so it's a when."

I laugh. "Ms. K is correcting my grammar."

She nods. "I... I don't know what to say." A sob breaks up her words. She blinks away a tear. The break only lasts a moment. She brings her hand to my waist and buries her face in my chest. "I'm not seducing you very well."

"You've done better before."

She laugh-cries. I pull her closer. I need to soothe her somehow.

My hand goes to the back of her head, cradling it. "What is it?"

"I've been moody the last few weeks."

"Me too. It's hard being apart."

"But you're always moody, Drew."

Feel like I should take offense to that, but I can't exactly argue.

"And I've been craving red meat." She presses her palm against my stomach.

"You've been hanging out with Willow." My sister has been a vegetarian since she was nine or ten. She's not pushy about being meat-free, but she does so much cooking that people end up eating vegetarian when they're around her. "Same thing happens to me."

"No. It's more than that." Kara looks up at me. Her eyes fill with guilt. "I can't do this to you."

"What is it you think you're doing to me?" I shift my hips to press my crotch against hers. "Besides this."

"I'd love to help with that." She sighs. "But... I don't know if I, if it's..." She trails off. Her eyes close.

"What is it you think you're doing to me?"

She shakes her head.

Damn. I know Kara has a hard time letting people, even me, in, but this is a whole other level.

"Are you leaving me?" I ask.

"Of course not." She slides her arm under the crook of my neck. Her gaze stays on my chest or maybe my stomach.

"Are you cheating on me?" I ask. Only to prove a point. That's far out of the realm of possibility.

"No." Kara breaks our touch. She shifts to the edge of the bed and stares into my eyes. "How could you say that?"

"If you aren't leaving me and you aren't cheating on me, it can't be that bad."

"Oh."

"Now, Kara, what is it you think you're doing to me? Besides making it hard to resist fucking you." I bring her hand to my erection.

She sighs with pleasure. "Are you sure about this talking thing?"

"Unfortunately."

She finds the zipper of her blouse, undoes it, and pulls the top over her head. "Still?"

I take her in slowly. Damn, my hands want on that soft skin. Want to cup her lush tits. Want to toy with her nipples until she's purring. Want to feel her fleshy thighs pressed against me.

Kara is nothing like the women our label hires to pose in our music videos. All sixty-one inches of her are curvy perfection.

I never realized how much I like women with a little meat on their bones until I caught sight of her in a tight dress.

Way back when we were kids, she was the first girl who didn't seem icky. She was way more than
not icky
. God knows how many times I fucked myself thinking of her.

Her eyes are wide with lust. "Please, Drew." She reaches around, unhooks her bra, and slides it off her shoulders. "Please fuck me first."

I shake my head. My body has other ideas. One hand goes to her ass. It finds the hem of her skirt and stays there. The other goes flat against her back, pressing her body closer.

Fuck, I love the way her chest feels against mine.

This time, I sigh with pleasure. I want to fuck her. I want to wipe away the pain in her eyes any way I can.

"If that's really what will make you feel better." I pull her closer. "Then take your fucking panties off."

She nods, but there's still a tear in her eye.

I run my fingers through her hair. "We're a team. Whatever it is, you don't have to carry it on your own."

I loosen her watch and slide it off her hand. She wears it to hide the scars on her wrist.

Kara used to cut. It killed me when I found out.

But I made it all about me. I should have thought about how it killed her. I got so fixed on how
I
failed her instead of thinking about how I could make things better.

Right now, she needs my understanding.

I trace the scars on her wrist. As far as I'm concerned, they're battle scars she earned being strong for everybody else.

I bring her wrist to my mouth and plant a soft kiss on her skin. She purrs. Her lips part with a sigh. I can practically hear her begging.

"Made myself a promise that night you told me you used to cut." I look into her big, brown eyes. "I already fucked it up a few times, but I did promise myself that, from now on, I'd be there any time you needed someone to be strong for you."

She stares back.

"I'm gonna do my best to stay true to that."