Sweet Melody (Rock & Rodeo Romance #1) (10 page)

She opens her eyes. “So you get hit on by a groupie fangirl, and I get pancakes?”

I nod.

She places a piece of bacon and a scoop of eggs on top of a pancake. Cutting off another slice, she puts the huge bite in her mouth and mutters something under her breath.

Although her mouth’s full, I swear she says, “I think I’m in love.”

Me too, Mel. Me too.

I
t’s been less
than 24 hours since I dropped Mel off at her place. Since then, we’ve texted a bunch, talked on the phone for a couple of hours, and had a pretty sexual FaceTime encounter sometime after midnight.

I pull up to her driveway and park the truck behind what I figure is Bethany’s tiny Mini Cooper. Grabbing the gifts I bought for the two inhabitants of the place, I make my way to the door and knock on it with my boot.

No one answers. My phone’s in my back pocket, and I’ll crush the flowers if I shift them to my other arm to retrieve it. My boot kicks again a little louder. I press my ear to the door but hear nothing. Maybe surprising Mel this early on her day off was a really shitty idea. But since time isn’t on our side, I don’t want to waste one second.

I kick on the door repeatedly until something crashes inside. Feet stomp on the floor, getting closer to me until the locks jiggle and the door jerks open. Bethany stands in the doorway, her blonde hair in a tangled mess piled on her head, her oversized and tattered T-shirt laying off her shoulder and over a tiny pair of shorts, and a hand on her hip.

“What time do you think it is? I barely got my ass into bed.” She glares up at me.

Shit. Forgot that the two roommates might not be on the same schedule.

“Hey Bethany. You think it’ll be okay if I wake Mel up? Here, I got you these.” I hold out the bouquet of mixed flowers to her. “Thank you for packing Mel’s bag with all the protection.”

The cellophane crinkles as she takes the bunch. She looks at the flowers and back up at me. Her mouth stays in a slight frown, but her eyes sparkle a bit. “I hope you put them to good use.” She sniffs the flowers. “These are nice. What’s in your other hand?”

I show her the gold box. “Chocolates.”

“Well, shit. Aren’t you the perfect Southern gentleman, bringing gifts to your girl? And her roommate. You play your game well, Mr. Sexy Singer. I guess you can come in.”

Their place isn’t palatial, but it’s also not cramped. Simple modern furniture fills up the room without crowding it. My eyes scan for anything personal of Mel’s that will give me more clues to who she is.

It takes a minute for me to notice Bethany watching me. “I’m sorry. Guess I’m kind of invading here.”

She points to a hallway. “Mel’s bedroom is the one to the right. But first, you must answer some questions, mister.” She crosses her arms in front of her chest.

A laugh bubbles up my throat, but I swallow it. Mel’s petite roommate has her best interests at heart. And to win the favor of Bethany might help me figure out how to keep what I’ve just found.

“Fire away.”

“First question. Counting Mel, how many girls do you normally woo and dump?”

My cough nearly chokes me. For such a tiny thing, she’s kicked me in the emotional nuts.

“Hell of a question. Kind of insulting, too.”

“Don’t care. Answer it.” She stands her ground.

I frown. “I don’t pick up girls, if that’s what you mean. No groupies. No after show hook ups.”

“What the hell do you call the other night?”

That’s the same question Mac asked me yesterday. And I still don’t have a clear answer for the question.

“The truth is, I don’t really know. It wasn’t a one-night stand because here I am a day later, ‘wooing’ her as you say. And if I can convince her to take a chance, I have no intention of doing any dumping. I’m actually trying to prevent her from getting rid of me.”

Bethany nods, and her eyes soften for a second. She clears her throat. “Okay. Question two. What about you leaving for Nashville?”

God, Bethany. Personal much? She and Mac are two peas in a pod. I could shove her out of the way and go back to Mel’s room. But doing that will get me thrown out or have the game called off all together.

“I can see where moving away isn’t ideal for dating someone,” I start.

“So you’re dating Mel? You’re not just hooking up?”

“Is that the next question? Or part of the same one?” I counter. Before she answers, I continue. “Look, I’ve got limited time here, and I want to spend as much of it as possible getting to know her. She’s fucking incredible.”

These are words I should be saying to Mel, not her roommate. But in a way, saying them out loud helps me think through all the questions running around in my head.

“And with today’s technology, I see no reason why we can’t try to find a way to work things out if that’s where this is headed. All I know is, I’d rather try than to break things off now. Even if we only get a few weeks, the time with her will mark me.”

Bethany unfolds her arms. She opens her mouth once, but closes it as she stares at me. A small smile spreads on her lips. In a lower tone, she says, “Question three.”

I can’t suppress a small groan.

“Question three. You want a piece of advice from me to help you?”

My body straightens at the piece of good news. “Yes. Absolutely.”

“Don’t dick around with her.”

“That sounds more like a warning.”

She shrugs. “You can take it that way if you need to. She’s had enough disappointments in her life when it comes to relationships. They don’t come easy for her, and she thinks that it’s easier to be alone in this world than to deal with the pain.”

I nod. “She kind of hinted last night that she has trust issues.”

Bethany scoffs. “That’s a mild way of summing up a lifetime of crap. Her story to tell, not mine. Just…be up front with her. Be honest. I can’t promise that she’ll choose not to shut you out. But I think if she knows you’re not bullshitting her, then the choice is up to her. Got it?”

“Got it.”

“One more thing.” Bethany walks over to me. She takes the box of chocolates from my hand. “I’m the one who loves chocolate. Not her. And she hates frou frou flowers.”

Shit. Last night I practically ordered her to eat some and shoved it in her mouth.

“But now I won’t have anything for her when I wake her up.”

Bethany’s eyes slide from mine down my torso to my pants. “You sure about that? Rumor has it you have plenty to give her.”

My hands rake down my face. “Do you girls share everything?”

She laughs and plops down on the couch. “Not everything. But almost. Enough. Now go on and wake up your sleeping princess. I dare you. And try to keep the noise down to a respectable level.”

My cheeks burn. “I’m just waking her up.”

“Yeah, right. You show up here with gifts, and you’re just waking her up with no other agenda. I’m an adult with a healthy sex life. I’m glad you’re helping her to get healthy again, too.” She gives me a thumbs-up.

I groan and roll my eyes. “So you’ll be out here instead of bed?”

Bethany holds up a pair of headphones. “I’ll watch some TV and eat the chocolate some sexy man brought into our home. Besides, I owe her for a few nights I might have overused my own vocal chords.” She wiggles her eyebrows at me.

“I’m outta here. Room on the right, you said?”

She opens the golden box and pops a chocolate in her mouth. “Mm-hmm. Good luck. And Hunter?”

I stop in the hallway entrance. Almost got away.

She swallows the candy down and looks me dead in the eye. “If you hurt her, I’ll kick your ass. I might be tiny, but my knees are as hard and bony as the next person’s. Consider yourself nutless if you hurt my girl.”

With quick strides, I reach the back of the couch. Leaning over, I kiss the top of her golden head. “Thank you for looking out for her.”

She stops feeding herself another chocolate, and pulls the bouquet of flowers to her. Pulling out a yellow daisy, she hands it to me and winks.

I knock lightly on the door to the bedroom on the right, and wait for an answer. It takes Bethany yelling for me to stop knocking and go in to give me the courage to turn the doorknob.

Mel’s body takes up the entire bed. She’s spread eagle over the mattress, a light sheet covering only her lower half. Her arms reach out toward the edges, and one of her feet dangles over the far edge of the bed. Even her hair spreads out over the entire pillow, covering it in dark brown strands.

She wears an old concert T-shirt from a local band with ripped holes in it. With her body stretched out, the shirt barely covers below her breasts. The hint of string underwear peeks out from under a twist of the sheet. My whole body aches at the sight of her. I’m torn between alerting her to my presence and waking her up with my head between her legs. Both choices offer rewards and pitfalls. Either one might get me slapped.

I take the simple flower and run it down her nose. It twitches under the light tickle. She turns her head away from me. My fingers brush her hair off her neck, and the flower travels down her long neck. Her hand bats it away, and she rolls over with a grunt. Stubborn woman.

The sheet falls off her body with a kick. Her round ass presents itself covered only in a thin strip of fabric in between her cheeks. My hand itches to touch her smooth skin, palm her firm ass, and massage her plump flesh until she wakes up with my hand between her thighs.

Unable to hold back any longer, I reach my hand out and touch her shoulder, unwilling to get too personal.

“Mel.”

No response. My hand rubs her shoulder lightly and works its way down her back. Maybe I should crawl into bed with her and wrap my entire body around her.

“Mel, honey, wake up.” My voice rises to above a whisper.

“Too early,” she mumbles. Her hand strikes out and smacks my cheek.

“Ouch.” I rub the spot. It won’t bruise, but it wasn’t the lightest of touches.

Her body stiffens, and she rolls over, eyes half-opened. “Hunter?”

“Morning, sunshine.” My hand caresses my cheek in mock pain.

She sits upright, yanking the sheet over her body. “What the hell are you doing here? In my bedroom?”

I smile. “Told you that the next time we were together, I wanted to be able to see you in the light. Still gorgeous, by the way.”

Her hand reaches up to her hair to smooth out the mess she imagines. She’s sexy as hell, all disheveled and sleepy.

“Um, can you stay here while I go take of some things?”

I chuckle. “Sure.”

She climbs out of bed, dragging the sheet with her, covering her body.

“Mel?”

“Yeah?”

“I think you can leave the sheet here. I’m pretty sure I’ve seen what’s under there, and as far as I’m concerned, I’d prefer if you walked around naked anyway.” I wink at her.

She stares for a short second. With her signature crooked grin, she drops the sheet. In a few seconds, she shimmies her tiny panties down her hips and legs, and whips the worn T-shirt off her body. My mouth opens, and my eyes rake over her perfect naked form, my cock straining against my jeans.

Mel smirks at me, and walks out of the room, the door slamming behind her.

Note to self: Do whatever it takes to be the one who wakes up Mel every morning.

O
nce I clear
the doorway with my confident strut, I sprint to the bathroom. No girl wakes up in perfect shape with makeup in place, hair brushed out in perfect waves, and clean teeth. I multitask to make myself as presentable as possible.

What the hell is he doing here? We just got off our phones video chatting not that long ago. But then again, he has limited time to be able to wake me up in person. Maybe he gets a pass, although my room’s a mess. And dear lord, he better not open up the drawer next to the bed. No need for him to meet what’s been serving to get me off until the other night.

Someone knocks on the bathroom door. I spit the toothpaste out and open the door slowly.

“Let me in,” insists Bethany. She pushes her way in and shuts the door. “Um, you nekkid, girlie. That was fast. What, is he like a one-second man or something?”

I roll my eyes. “No. He surprised me. Then in my confused stupor, I stripped the clothes off myself. Can’t remember why, really. Although I did enjoy making his jaw drop.”

Bethany brushes out her hair. “Mel, I think it’s okay if you let yourself like him. He’s a pretty good guy.”

“Because he’s the lead singer to the band?” I take over the brush and finish working through her tangled hair while she applies a light layer of mascara.

She adds a nude lip gloss and smacks her lips. “Nope. Because he showed up at our doorstep this morning with flowers and chocolates. The chocolates were for you, but I straightened him out.”

My hand pauses. “He brought you flowers?”

“Yep. Guess you guys really benefited from my little gift in your bag. Anyway,” She takes the brush from my hand and taps my head, “Remember what I said to you the other night about not getting in your own way and giving things a chance. That still stands. Even more so now.”

I blow out a breath. “So where are you headed?”

She smiles and opens the door. “Let’s just say your man inspired me to go do some waking up of my own. Feel free to get as freaky as you need to.” She winks and leaves.

When I open the door to my room, Hunter sits on the edge of my bed. His eyes snap up to mine. To his credit, it takes a few sways of my hips as I walk toward him before he drags his eyes down my body.

“So. Chocolates and flowers?” I lean over and take one of his legs in my hands, attempting to make a boot removal as alluring as possible.

He nods, watching me. “Yeah. Bethany clued me in about chocolate. Sorry about the other night.”

“You’ll get no complaints from me.” I take his other leg to take off the left boot. “What’s the flower for? Tickling me?”

Hunter glances at the daisy in his hand. My hands rub up his legs, my arms pressing in slightly to accentuate my cleavage. His erection throbs, and I take my time stroking his cock. His breath hitches, and his eyes flick to my breasts in front of him.

“Arms up.”

Hunter sets the flower down and lifts his hands above his head. My fingers grab the edge of his shirt and pull it off. His head pops out the neckline, messing up his hair even more. There’s my bad boy. I’m rewarded with full vision of his sculpted torso. Shit, my fingers felt him up and down, but my imagination didn’t do him justice.

“I need to touch you, Mel.”

I shake my head. “Not yet. Soon. Right now, it’s my turn.”

With my phone, I sync some music to the Bluetooth speaker on my nightstand. Something soft and sensual to set the beat and drive him crazy. My hands travel with slow deliberation down each of the ridges of muscle toward the top of his jeans. I run my fingers around the edge of his jeans, and his muscles flinch. With a twist, his button comes undone, but I leave his jeans on.

“Lie down on the bed,” I tell him. “Hands behind your head.”

He slides back so his head rests on my pillow and follows my orders. The bed dips as I crawl onto it and straddle him, the heat from my awakened pussy rubbing against his lower abdomen.

“You’re right, Hunter. Doing this in the daylight has its definite benefits.”

I lean over him, skin to skin and feather his lips with light kisses, never deepening the touch. His tongue flicks out to lick me. He strains to keep his hands behind his head.

“Patience,” I whisper in his ear, and then bite his earlobe.

“You’re killing me,” he groans.

“And you dared to wake me up. Call it payback.” I lick and nip my way down his neck.

His shoulder still carries the mark of where I bit him before. I kiss it, and move down his body.

“Now,” I say, talking in between having my way with him. “In the light of day.” Kiss. “You can show off.” Nip. “Your well-toned body.” Lick.

I pull one of his nipples into my mouth. He growls, and moves underneath me. One hand escapes from behind his head.

I stop and sit up. “Move your hand right now, and this all ends.”

He bites his lip and shoves the naughty appendage back where I want it. My pussy throbs as I get off on his struggle. He had his turn at running the show. Now to show him what he’s gotten himself into.

Sitting back up, I let my hands and fingers roam over my body in sensual movements. They run through my hair, over my face, across my lips. Hunter watches me with smoldering eyes. I press my chest out and feel my own breasts already heavy from anticipation. His tongue darts out and licks his lips. I close my eyes as I roll my nipples into hard buds. My display may have started to rev his engines, but desire shoots through me. I close my eyes, enjoying my own touch, believing that I can be a sexy goddess in my own right.

Through hooded eyelids, I watch Hunter. The game is on to bring him to his brink and break his control. Bring out the wild animal in him to tear me apart. My hand eases down my abdomen, fingers splayed across my skin. His eyes stay glued on my fingers as they cross the threshold between my thighs.

One slow swipe across my folds, and some of my own restraint slips. My fingers caress my slick pussy back and forth, alternating with slow circles around my clit. When I hit my swollen target, my hips grind against my hand and Hunter.

“Holy Hell. What the fuck are you doing?”

I open my eyes. His teeth are gritted, the vein his neck pulses as he holds his head up to watch. Only the tips of his fingers remain behind his head.

“You said you wanted to see me in the light,” I pause, rubbing my arousal around. “So I thought I’d give you something to watch. Why, see something you want?”

With that last challenge, I push a finger inside my wet channel. A moan escapes me, and I bite my lip. I undulate on top of him, daring him to break and claim what’s his to take. He reaches out with one hand and grabs my hip. He lifts his ass up so his hard cock finds friction against me. But one hand still remains obedient.

The forefinger and thumb of my free hand circle my nipple and pinch it while two fingers enter me. My eyes close again, no longer concerned with the game.

“Hunter.” His name’s both a call out to the one who makes me this wanton and a plea for him.

He leans up on his elbows and growls. “Take off my jeans.”

Moving in quick compliance, I unleash his throbbing cock and tear his jeans off his legs. Half way up, as I’m crawling back on the bed, he grabs my arms and pulls me up to straddle him again. His mouth crushes mine as he grips me to him with fierce force. We attack each other with equal passion. He covers my face and neck with rough kisses. Taking my hand that was between my thighs, he licks it clean.

I take his hard length in my hand and hover over it, rubbing his head through my wet folds. The urge to impale myself on him overwhelms me.

“Hunter. Condoms. Drawer.” I point.

He stops devouring me long enough to grab one. He hands it to me, and pants a protest. “But you’re not ready.”

I guide his hand to the hot apex between my thighs and run his fingers over me. “Does that feel like I’m not?”

“Fuck, you’re drenched.” He wastes no time pushing two fingers deep inside, rubbing and stretching.

The condom goes on, and I waste no time. Directing his fingers to my clit, I look in his eyes and sink down on him. We both cry out expletives at the sensation. My tight pussy clenches him, the friction almost too much to take. My position on top drives me down. He’s deeper than he’s been before. I still, letting my body adjust. My muscles contract around him, sinking him deeper. Hunter drops back on the bed with a groan.

I lift myself up a bit, and drop down again, slowly. With each stroke, the pain subsides and pleasure sparks. This man beneath me does things to me I can’t fathom. I thought I’d felt sexy before, but nothing compares to how he makes me feel. The fact that he wants me, not just my body, makes me ache to please him. I want to be the one to bring him so much pleasure he won’t stop thinking about us, even miles away.

His hard grip at my hips takes over the rhythm, pushing me up and down. He thrusts inside me at the right time until we’re in perfect sync. Good thing Bethany left because no earphones are going to block out the loud noises we make.

“Fuck yes, Hunter.”

“Shit. So good.”

“Harder.”

He sits up, the switch in angle intensifying the sensation of him inside me. His greedy mouth covers my breast, and he sucks in my nipple. I grab the back of his head and urge him to take more. His teeth graze the hardened bud and bite down as he sucks it in.

“God, yes. More.” My head drops back.

He switches to give the same attention to my other breast. He moves his hand to finger my clit, and my inner muscles shake.

“I’m going to come,” I warn.

He applies harder pressure against me. “Do it. Come, Melody.”

As I explode, he pumps himself faster inside me, his own climax taking us both harder. We shake against each other, riding the wave. Before I’m ready, he moves me off of him and discards the condom. He flips me on my back, raises my legs over his shoulders, and dives his head between my legs. Small spasms ripple through me with every lick until another climax builds.

“I can’t,” I protest.

He doesn’t stop until another orgasm rips through me. His tongue laps up all my arousal as I lay spent with my arm over my eyes, stars bursting in front of them. The entire world falls away in my euphoric state.

Hunter’s finger traces the quote tattooed on my arm. His touch brings me back.

“What does ‘Wondrous Strange’ mean to you? It sounds familiar.” He moves my arm off my face and lays halfway on top of me.

“It’s Shakespeare. From
Hamlet
.” I open my eyes. His face hovers near mine.

He brushes hair away and waits for me to gather my thoughts. No man’s ever taken the time to care what any of my tats mean to me. Telling him isn’t off limits, but it feels foreign to share a piece of me that the whole world sees yet doesn’t understand.

“When I first heard the phrase, I simply liked it. Like it was wonderful to be weird or different. And that’s always been me. Took me getting older to understand the context.”

He studies the scrolled script. “What’s the context?”

“Horatio, Hamlet’s best friend, has just seen the ghost of Hamlet’s father. When he says it, he’s in awe of what he’s witnessed. In fear of it. Right after Horatio says it, Hamlet tells him that the ghost sighting’s proof that there are more things to marvel at in the world than we understand.”

I scrunch my eyes closed, worried that my nerd status negates me as a sex goddess. I’ve never been a huge book reader. But for some reason, Shakespeare does it for me. The difference in the language, how one statement can mean something else. And then the laughable proof that a lot of today’s books and movies are rip offs of Shakespeare’s plays. It’s like my own personal joke. That Hunter now shares.

He repeats the words again. “I like it. So for you, it went from celebrating how you felt different to…what?”

In a small voice, I confess. “To reminding myself that there might be more for me out there in the world. To believe in that. To believe in myself, that I could experience it.” Not even Bee knows this about my tattoo or me.

His warm lips cover mine in a slow, languid kiss. “Thank you for sharing,” he murmurs against them. His body covers mine, and I shift underneath him.

After a few minutes of our tongues dancing and our bodies writhing, he stops to look at me. Tenderness instead of desire reflects back to me. Yet it doesn’t quench the flames kindling in my belly. His cock grows hard against me again.

He grins. “I think I need to be inside your sweet pussy again.” His mouth’s dirty, but his eyes say something different.

If I branded myself with the belief that the world can offer me more, then why can’t I believe that so can this man? I wrap my legs around his waist, and open myself up in more ways than one.

“Bring it on, Cowboy.”